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CHAPTER 38

The sound of the ikoro had woken her. It was rare. That wooden gong was never beaten unless something bad has happened or was about to happen. It was hard to tell which of the two was in play. But one thing was certain. The ikoro was a drum of the spirit. It was never sounded in vain. The last time she had heard its sound was a long time ago. She was probably ten or eleven years old then. The kingdom had lost the greatest diviner, the Dibia of the seventh generation.

Ejima hurried towards the sandy path, making her way to the village square. The day was young, but the fact that she didn’t see anyone on her way to the square, made her wonder if the enemy had wiped out the entire village. For all she could tell, the village could have turned into a ghost town. Not even the noise of a domestic animal could be heard. Silence and emptiness had mended the crips of the birds.

Ejima rested her hands on her sling as she roamed the narrow path. As a novice in the shrine, she w

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