Chapter 302. OVERWHELMED
Chapter 302. OVERWHELMED
Zafaru stepped forward once, lowered himself, and took a knee in the middle of the shattered impact field. He crossed both fists against his chest in an old southern salute and lowered his head. When he spoke again, his voice echoed through the canyon walls.
"I, Kai, General of War of the South, welcome the last of N’folu... and greet the Chief of N’folu as is rightfully yours." Silence followed. Long enough, Sagiri could hear Zaira snoring. He could not have predicted that it could happen in a thousand years. But it was, and the general of the South was accepting him and taking a knee to him.
Then one warrior behind him took a knee. Then another. Then another. Within seconds, all one hundred elites had lowered themselves and crossed their fists to their chests. Above them, the reaction spread. Soldiers along the canyon walls slowly lowered their bows. The archers knelt. The defenders above the cliffs followed. Then the warriors standing atop the massive gates of Thazir knelt as well until row after row bent in the same salute.
Weapons remained in hand but lowered in respect. The entire canyon changed. A place that moments ago had been prepared for war now bowed before Sagiri.
Then N’varu fell to his knees beside Sagiri in the same beat and followed in the pledge.
"I welcome the last N’folu and the last keeper!!"
The whole squad followed dramatically, of course, but Sagiri could feel their relief and joy for him.
"We welcome the last N’folu and rightful chief of N’folu
Sagiri did not know what to do, and for a moment, he just stood there. He could not believe what had happened. He was just getting ready to fight with all he had, and now they were accepting him?
They tried to kill him twice and now...
Just like that?
Sagiri felt something rise in his throat. An emotion he did not know he had been holding for so long. It felt as if some weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He didn’t want to fight with the South most of all. Perhaps there was still a long way to go in terms of acceptance, but the kai of the south had taken the knee to accept him, and that meant leaps for him.
Kai remained kneeling with his fists crossed over his chest, and the canyon stayed completely still. Then a voice rose somewhere among the elite warriors behind him. "We welcome the last N’folu." Another joined. Then another. Soon, the sound spread through the formation and climbed the canyon walls. Soldiers on the cliffs repeated it. The archers above repeated it.
The warriors standing atop the gates lowered their heads and joined in the chorus until the entire canyon echoed with a single uniform sentence. Spoken with acceptance.
"We welcome the last N’folu and chief of N’folu as it is rightful!!"
Sagiri stood in the middle of it with burned robes hanging from his shoulders and Nokai resting quietly in his hand, and suddenly something inside him shifted in a way no battle ever had. He realized, without knowing when it had happened, that he had already prepared himself to be rejected.
Somewhere during the last years away, he had accepted that if he ever returned, he would have to force his way in. Fight his own people. Break his homeland apart just to stand on its soil again. He had carried that weight so long he no longer noticed it was there. But now they were kneeling. Welcoming him. Calling his tribe’s name without resentment. Without hesitation. His fingers tightened around Nokai, and for the first time since arriving, his chest hurt in a way burns and blades never could.
Suddenly, he understood something small and devastating: he could go home. He could walk the lands of N’folu again. Stand where they had stood. See what remained. Say goodbye properly. He did not have to steal that farewell anymore. He lowered his head slightly and closed his eyes for only a moment as the chants continued around him, and emotions he did not know he had been carrying finally became too heavy to ignore.
His eyes watered, and a tear fell from his eyes, hitting the ground before him. He was sure the kai could see it, but he did not care. He could now walk the south without having to fight his own people.
The chants continued to roll through the canyon "N’folu... N’folu..." steady and accepting, and Sagiri remained standing in the middle of them with his head lowered slightly and Nokai hanging loosely in his hand. Then, suddenly, Nokai snapped. The blade jerked violently backward in his grip with enough force to twist his arm, and Sagiri staggered a step before catching himself.
Well, someone also chastised him at that moment.
"Don’t dare fall now and embarrass me. Act with honour." It was Kaka Asakana.
The sound stopped, but the general did not rise yet. Sagiri stood there breathing once, then again, and realized with quiet surprise that Nokai had not reacted to danger. It had reacted to him. To the sudden release. Sagiri took another step back. His legs felt strange. They felt so heavy he wished he could sit down on the ground and weep, but the Kaka would beat him to a pulp.
He stared ahead and understood something he had never allowed himself to think.
He was tired.
He was emotionally tired, and he had been for a long time.
Tired of carrying Nokai. Tired of arriving ready to fight. Tired of expecting resistance. Tired of preparing to cut down anyone standing between him and what mattered. Tired of being ready every second to prove he belonged somewhere. Somewhere along the past two years, he had stopped expecting doors to open and started believing every place would eventually force him to draw his blade.
He had come to the capital with Kiuga’s plan, yet deep down, he knew he had to draw his blade, and he was ready to break through its gates, ready to bleed for a chance to stand on N’folu land. Perhaps he only carried a little hope because his friends believed there could be another way.
And yet now, nobody was making him fight.
The realization hit harder than the fireball. Sagiri stood in the middle of the kneeling canyon, and for the first time in years, he did not know what to do with his hands if they were not holding a weapon.
"All this time... I thought the South no longer had a place waiting for me." Sagiri’s voice echoed slowly when he finally spoke.
"I came to say goodbye to N’folu. I have been so unfilial not sending you all off all these years!!" Sagiri cried
Short silence.
"I didn’t expect to be welcomed." He added, and there was sniffing behind him and somewhere in the crowd of soldiers. "I was willing to shed more blood to come pay you my respect. How unfilial of me... to wield a weapon and call myself a N’folu." Sagiri’s body shook with grief. Grief filled the place. Whether his or everyone else’s, he did not know.
Silence stretched as Sagiri shook with grief but fought to stand still.
"Now I can come and finally do my filial duties, oh N’folu, even though I am an unworthy descendant. You will not be forgotten as long as I am alive. I can finally dance for you under the stars and say goodbye..." Sagiri’s voice broke, and his shoulders shook.
"N’folu will never be forgotten!" The general said, and everyone chanted. Another long moment went by as sagiri fought between grief and control until he finally breathed.
"You may stand..." He fought to say in a steady voice.
The general stood with a salute, and the soldiers followed.
"Open the gates!!" Zafaru announced.
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