The morning after the Drumfather's fall, Obade awoke to silence not the suffocating silence of fear, but the calm of a breath finally released.
The river gleamed under the sun, its surface still holding the faint shimmer of vanished shadows.
But for Aleshọ́rú, the battle was far from over.
The Summons
Late that afternoon, the elders gathered in the village square, their faces grave.
An ancient voice echoed through the wind the voice of the Echo Keepers' ancestors.
Aleshọ́rú felt it in her bones: a call to the Trial of the Ancestors a sacred passage that would test her resolve, spirit, and worthiness to be the Echo Queen.
"This is the final step," the eldest said. "To protect Obade, you must face the past of our lineage, and answer for the silence we kept."
The Path Beyond
That night, by the riverbank, Aleshọ́rú prepared herself.
The moon hung low, its light casting silver trails across the water.
She stepped into the river, the cold biting her skin but her heart steady.
As the water swallowed her knees, a whisper rose from the depths a chorus of voices, both kind and accusing.
They pulled her deeper into the watery veil, into the world between worlds.
The Echo Chamber
Inside the river's spirit realm, Aleshọ́rú found herself surrounded by shimmering faces ancestors who had once held the drum's power.
They spoke without words, showing visions of past mistakes and buried truths.
They showed her the price of silence, the blood spilled in the name of peace, the broken promises whispered into the river's flow.
The Choice
The final test was clear.
To truly protect her village, she must choose:
Embrace the full burden of the Echo Queen accepting the silence of her voice, forever bound to the river's memory.
Or reject it, keeping her voice but dooming the village to repeat history's cycles.
Her heart ached. She thought of Ola's sacrifice, of Ifeoma's spirit, and of all who had been lost.
Acceptance
Aleshọ́rú knelt by the river's spirit.
With tears mingling with the river's water, she whispered her vow:
"I accept the silence.
I accept the burden.
So that none may suffer as they have."
The ancestors smiled not with warmth, but with solemn respect.
A soft light enveloped her, and her voice was gently folded into the river's song.
Return
When Aleshọ́rú surfaced, dawn was breaking.
The villagers waited silently.
Though she could no longer speak, her eyes shone bright with resolve.
She gestured to the river, then to the village.
Her message was clear:
The Echo Queen was still here guardian, protector, and keeper of the silence.