For Ahia, the seventy-two hours following the Vow were a slow descent into a fever.
Without Geta's presence to ground her, the Huenergy leakage returned with the force of a physical assault. Every time Libaax—miles away in the Citadel—signed a death warrant, reviewed a border conflict, or felt the crushing pressure of the Investiture, Ahia felt it. It was like a phantom limb that only knew how to ache.
She spent the second day in the private study of Elder Zara. Her Yellow Aura was so frayed it looked like smoke.
"I found nothing in the public records," Ahia rasped, her fingers trembling against her lips as she paced the small, terracotta-walled room. "The static... it has a signature. It's not 'global noise,' Elder. It's a pulse. A single, rhythmic pulse."
Zara watched her student with deep concern. She saw the way Ahia's 88% Empathite was turning against her, making her a martyr for an emotion that wasn't hers.
"There are scrolls," Zara said softly, her voice heavy with the weight of a secret. "They are kept from the young Masanis because they speak of the Pillar of Karmic Law in ways that defy our current order. They speak of the Ifunanya."
Ahia stopped. "The Sighted Love?"
"It is more than love, Ahia. It is a convergence," Zara explained, pulling a dusty, black-bound scroll from a hidden niche. "It is when Chi pairs two souls to balance the Ase of the world. One is the Pillar, the other is the Anchor. But it is forbidden knowledge because of the risk it poses. When a high level King is paired, he is no longer just a ruler. He is now a man with a weakness. A man whose Heartstate can be manipulated through his partner."
Ahia reached for the scroll, her eyes wide. As she unrolled the ancient parchment, her breath hitched.
"When Aura meets Aura, the Leakage shall cease, and the Two shall become the One Sight."
Ahia slumped into a chair. Ofcourse the Prismatic White. The color of the energy that had been drowning her. The color of the King of Kings.
Akogwa, The Citadel
While Ahia was uncovering the cosmic nature of her pain, the Citadel was a hive of preparation. Azure Oba stood in the center of the training grounds, his seven-foot silhouette casting a long, blue-tinted shadow as he watched Libaax strike a training dummy with a practice staff.
Libaax was moving with a terrifying, fluid grace, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.
"You're going to break the staff, not the enemy," Azure rumbled, stepping into the ring. He didn't use a weapon; he simply stood there, his massive Blue Aura acting as a natural shield.
Libaax stopped, his chest heaving. His Prismatic White Aura flared brightly, then settled. "I'm fine, Azure."
"You're counting the minutes," Azure said, his voice blunt and devoid of the "prince charming" worship the rest of the world offered. "Tell me about her. The Masani. Is she really all that... all this?"
Libaax leaned on his staff, looking toward the horizon where Orizu lay hidden behind the hills. "Her name is Ahia. She doesn't know who I am. She just thinks I'm a man named Geta with a 'quiet spirit.'"
Azure let out a short, dry laugh.
"A quiet spirit? You? The man who can level a city with his severity of the sword?" He shook his head, his expression softening into the look of a brother. "You're playing a dangerous game, Libaax. The Ministry of Media has spent years making you a hero. If you fall for some girl who sees the man and not the sky you might find you don't want to be a covering anymore, you will lose your purpose."
"Maybe that's the point, Azure," Libaax replied, his icy eyes meeting his friend's gaze. "Maybe being a distant king is what's killing me."
Azure didn't push it. He knew Libaax's history—the years of running, the blood debt of the Usurper, the lonely climb to the throne. If a girl with a Yellow Aura could give him peace, Azure wouldn't stand in the way.
"Go to your Vow," Azure said, turning to walk away. "But remember: Aye and Zamani are watching.
"And the Investiture doesn't wait for love."