"One blood, two thrones. One truth, two paths. Beware the crown that does not share." Writings of the High Seer of Dakira
The brothers stood side by side before the Grand Council of Dakira. The gold-veined marble floor beneath them once reflected power and pride. Now, it echoed with uncertainty.
Adiro, draped in a royal blue robe lined with his mother's ancestral patterns, kept his voice steady as he addressed the council.
"I do not seek to rule Dakira alone. Nor does Niko seek to conquer Oremi. We ask for your blessing and your trust to build a new alliance."
The room remained silent.
Elder Malan, the oldest council member, narrowed his eyes. "You ask us to share our throne with the son of our sworn enemy."
"Our parents tried to end this feud," Niko said calmly. "They died for it."
"And yet," said Commander Zara, her arm still in a sling from her duel with Adiro, "many in Oremi still call for Dakira's destruction. Do you deny this?"
"No," Niko said. "But they are misled. As yours are."
The air grew thick with tension.
Adiro stepped forward. "Give us one moon cycle. Let us lead together in one month. If there is no change, if the kingdoms do not move toward peace, then I will surrender the claim."
Murmurs filled the room.
"A bold promise," Elder Malan said. "But remember in one moon, we judge not just your words… but your blood."
Back in Oremi, word of the brothers' return spread like wildfire. But not everyone welcomed it.
In the Hall of the Flame, the high court of Oremi, nobles gathered in secret.
"He is his mother's son," said Duke Taaru. "A Dakiran in Oremi's heart."
"And his brother walks our soil," added Lady Jilani. "Is this not invasion wrapped in silk?"
One figure stepped forward from the shadows , cloaked, veiled, his voice sharp.
"There is another," he said. "Another heir. One who carries the blood of both kings… and none of their softness."
Lady Jilani frowned. "And who are you?"
The figure removed his hood.
He was no older than Niko or Adiro, but his features were sharp, angular and eerily familiar.
"I am Zuberi," he said. "Son of King Mensah of Dakira… and a woman your courts forgot."
Gasps echoed.
"If peace fails," Zuberi said, smiling faintly, "I will be the crown both kingdoms deserve."
That evening, Adiro and Niko walked the gardens where their mother once met with foreign dignitaries. The moon hung above like a silent witness.
"They still don't trust me," Niko said, plucking a leaf and turning it in his hand.
Adiro nodded. "They don't trust anyone. Not after so many years of blood."
Niko stopped walking. "And what if the prophecy is wrong?"
Adiro faced him. "Or what if it's incomplete?"
Niko looked up. "Then we finish what they started."
They clasped forearms. But something unspoken lingered between them, the creeping fear that unity might come at a cost neither could bear.
That night, Adiro returned to the royal study and placed his mother's pendant in a small carved bowl beside the hearth.
The flames flared unnaturally bright.
A hidden compartment beneath the floor cracked open.
Inside was a scroll wrapped in black silk, the final writings of Queen Zina.
He opened it slowly.
"Two born of fire shall unite. But one born of shadow shall strike when they kneel. Trust not the voice that sounds like yours. One crown must bend… or both shall break."
Adiro's chest tightened.
"Trust not the voice that sounds like yours…"
Was it a warning about Niko?
Or someone else?
Zuberi stood at the border between Dakira and Oremi, where an ancient fortress lay in ruin. Now, it was occupied by soldiers loyal not to kings, but to coin and revenge.
He wore a robe of red and silver colors no king had dared combine in over a century.
Behind him, a captain approached.
"The people are listening," he said. "Many believe you."
Zuberi smiled. "Let them. We were forgotten. Cast aside."
"What now?"
Zuberi turned toward the horizon. "Now we bleed their hope. And take what should've always been mine."
As part of the ancient rites, Adiro and Niko entered the Temple of Fire a ceremonial chamber beneath the palace where kings once pledged loyalty to the ancestors.
They knelt before the flame and placed their right hands in the heated basin, a symbolic test of purity and purpose.
The flame flared blue the rarest sign.
A sign of shared destiny.
The priests murmured in awe.
But outside, a messenger stumbled into the temple with blood on his chest.
He collapsed at their feet, whispering only one word: "Zuberi…"
The next morning, the brothers stood before a joint assembly of Oremi and Dakira elders.
"We've confirmed Zuberi's claim," said Baba Ekun. "His mother was a noble exile, cast out before her pregnancy was discovered."
Elder Malan trembled with fury. "Another heir? This will tear us apart!"
"Or it will test us," Adiro said. "Zuberi must be brought in peacefully."
"You think he'll kneel?" asked Lady Jilani. "He wants the whole kingdom. He's already taken the border fortress!"
Niko stepped forward. "Then we go to him. Together."
But the room had already begun to divide.
Whispers became arguments.
Old wounds reopened.
And the fragile hope of unity began to splinter.
Alone in the royal chamber, the brothers stood once more before the old prophecy scroll.
Adiro read the final line again aloud.
"One crown must bend… or both shall break."
"What does it mean?" Niko asked quietly.
Adiro looked at him.
"It means only one of us may lead. And we must choose before someone else does."