The Boy with a Stitched Mouth
The soil beneath the staff continued to bleed.
Not mud. Not water.
Blood.
The elders gathered once more — none of them had ever seen such a thing. The Ku’t Nji wind had gone still, but what it left behind was a question too heavy to ignore.
And that night, the boy with the stitched mouth returned.
🌘 The Dream That Burned
Muutfwang could not sleep.
He tossed and turned until his eyes drifted shut. But the moment they did, he was back under the great Ngwan Kum tree, now alive and burning with blue fire.
The boy — Mangle — stood under it, the same vines across his lips, but this time, they moved.
Not like lips.
Like snakes.
They wriggled, and then fell off — revealing a mouth full of smoke.
He spoke for the first time:
> “I was the promise.
Direp broke the circle.
Now you must finish it... or the hills will finish you.”
Muutfwang stepped back.
> “What circle?”
Mangle pointed to the bleeding staff, now glowing red.
> “Three must stand.
One must fall.
Or all will be taken.”
⚔️ The Circle of Three
The next morning, Muutfwang called for a meeting with Da Kamshak and Na'Toh.
> “He said three must stand. One must fall. What does that mean?”
Na'Toh looked away.
> “The priesthood was made of three flames — the Caller, the Keeper, and the Drum Voice. When Direp silenced the Drum Voice by sacrificing Mangle, the circle broke.”
Da Kamshak added:
> “You are the blood of Direp.
You are now the Keeper.
I am the Drum Voice.
But we are missing the Caller.”
Muutfwang asked:
> “Then who is the Caller?”
Na'Toh slowly turned toward him.
> “That is what the wind is choosing...”
⚡ A Dangerous Arrival
As the conversation ended, a young girl stormed into the compound.
She wore torn gwosh long beads and had the mark of Lu Kum on her left shoulder — a symbol no one had been given in 80 years.
Her name was Kanshak.
She claimed to be from Chanso, but had no memory of how she got to Panyam.
When the elders approached her, she whispered:
> “The spirits sent me.
I woke up with the horn in my hand.”
In her grip was a carved horn identical to the one in Ngwan Kum.
And before anyone could stop her, she raised it and blew.
🗣️ The Voice Returns
The ground trembled.
The wind screamed.
And somewhere in the distance, the Ngwan Kum horn — again — blew on its own.
This time, the sky cracked open, and a rain of ash began to fall.
All across Mwaghavul land, the soil turned black.
🔚 End of Episode 6
> Next Episode: “Kanshak, the Marked One”
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