The Resistance gathered before sunrise, torches flickering against the cavern walls. The elder dipped his fingers in ash, tracing twin spirals on the twins' foreheads.
"Today, una go learn how to carry di resonance wey dey inside una blood," he intoned.
The cavern hummed. The serpent mural glowed faintly, as if listening.
Kafé's training began with water. He stood at the lagoon's edge, his mark glowing as currents bent around his hands. Each movement felt natural, like the lagoon itself answered his call. Waves rose and fell in rhythm with his breathing.
Taye's training was fire. Sparks danced at his fingertips, flames licking the air. But the fire was wild, threatening to consume him if he lost focus. Sweat poured down his face as he struggled to control it.
Imade refused to be left behind. She trained alongside them, learning to fight shadows with iron and grit. Her defiance inspired the others, her rod striking with precision born of survival.
Zoba guided them through hidden paths of Tark Island, teaching survival tricks and warning of Red Shadow's spies. "Lagoon dey my blood," she said quietly. "I don lose family to his raids. If una wan survive, trust me."
The island itself seemed alive during training. Vines curled tighter when the twins' marks flared. Birds scattered whenever Taye's fire burned too hot. Even the lagoon waves rose and fell in rhythm with their resonance.
At night, the Resistance performed chants around the serpent mural. They sang of dawn and dusk, of balance and ruin. The twins felt their marks pulse in rhythm with the chants, binding them deeper to prophecy.
But shadows crept at the edges of Tark Island. Nets tore mysteriously overnight. Fires burned out without reason. Children whispered of a cloaked figure seen across the lagoon.
Zoba's pendant glowed faintly, warning of danger. "The Red Shadow dey close," she whispered. "Even here, his eyes dey watch."
Taye struggled with his fire, frustrated. "If na me be dusk, maybe I go destroy everything."
Kafé gripped his shoulder. "No. We go choose our own path. Dawn or dusk, we go stand together."
Imade raised her rod. "And I go stand with una. Prophecy no fit scatter us."
As the twins trained, the serpent mural shifted. Its twin heads glowed brighter—fire and water—clashing briefly before settling. The cavern trembled, dust falling from the ceiling.
The elder frowned. "Balance dey fragile. If una no master una power, serpent heads go clash… and world go burn."