POV: Adeola, Moremi, Wale, Femi, Damilola, Tunde
Theme: Rescue, Identity, Fire Rising Beneath Ashes
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Under the Moon of Ayo
POV: Adeola
The night air of Ayo was thick—like smoke before a fire. Adeola crouched behind a vendor cart, watching torch-bearing patrols march past.
They had entered the kingdom under the cover of darkness, disguised as spice traders. But now, just beyond the palace gates, he felt something unfamiliar.
Something deep.
Something like home.
Ayomide knelt beside him, eyes scanning the horizon. "We have until dawn," he whispered. "After that, the markets open. We'll be exposed."
Adeola nodded. His heart beat faster—not out of fear, but because something within him stirred each time the wind carried the scent of the palace.
Wale stepped from the shadows.
"Your comrades are alive," he said, face unreadable. "Moremi is being held beneath the northern wing. Damilola... she's under Durojaiye's roof."
Yemi narrowed his eyes. "And what about the boy?"
Femi.
"He escaped," Wale replied. "For now."
---
Chains and Shadows
POV: Moremi
Moremi lay on a cold floor, her wrists bound.
The stone beneath her felt like the grave.
When the door creaked open, she didn't flinch—but her breath caught. Tunde entered with a smirk carved across his face, and behind him… a monster from her memory.
Durojaiye.
His smile hadn't changed.
She fought to remain calm as they dragged her before them.
"This one," Durojaiye muttered, "has fire. But fire can be tamed."
He reached toward her—but Tunde grabbed his hand mid-air and twisted it.
"Don't touch her again," Tunde growled, voice low and dangerous. "She's mine."
Moremi's skin crawled.
She would rather die than belong to either of them.
But in that moment, her eyes locked on a soldier in the back. His posture. The scar across his brow.
Her heart skipped.
"Wale…?" she whispered to herself.
Could it be?
---
The First Kill
POV: Femi
Femi's breath echoed in the narrow corridor.
Blood dripped from his dagger—his first kill. Two guards lay crumpled behind him. His hands trembled, but not with fear.
With purpose.
"I won't lose her again," he muttered.
He darted into the kitchen halls, heart pounding, until—
"Adeola!" he cried as two cloaked figures emerged from the smoke.
Adeola pulled him into the shadows, followed by Ayomide. "Are you hurt?"
Femi shook his head. "They're alive. Both of them. They're in the dungeon and… in Durojaiye's estate."
His eyes burned. "He's the one who ruined her."
Ayomide placed a hand on his shoulder. "Then let's make him regret it."
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Sisters in Chains
POV: Damilola
Damilola's wrists ached, but her spirit held fast.
When the guards brought Moremi into her cell, she broke down—not from weakness, but from relief. Their embrace was brief but eternal.
"Durojaiye hasn't changed," Damilola whispered.
Moremi's jaw clenched. "Then he dies. Tonight."
They held hands in the dark, warriors in silence.
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The Lockdown Begins
POV: Tunde
Tunde's rage was like wildfire.
One of the guards had gone missing. Another reported shadows in the north wing. He stood atop the palace tower and roared:
"Seal the gates. Lock the markets. Torch the slums if you must—find them!"
Steel clashed below as soldiers poured into the streets.
House to house. Family to family. Innocents dragged into courtyards.
"Anyone aiding the rebels will burn," he declared.
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Message in the Wind
POV: Wale
In a hidden loft above the tannery district, Wale wrote on a strip of cloth, soaked it in oil, and tied it to a hawk's leg.
"Get this to Yemi," he muttered.
The bird flew into the night sky, rising above the chaos.
Wale turned to the rebel informant beside him.
"They've triggered the storm. Now we ride it."
---
The Fire Awakens
POV: Adeola
The rebel squad regrouped near the temple ruins.
Torches flared in every direction, and shouts of war echoed through the alleys.
Yemi unsheathed his blade. "We split up. Three teams."
Bayo tightened his gauntlets. "Get in. Get them out. Leave the rest to me."
Adeola looked toward the palace.
Somewhere beyond those walls, Moremi was chained. Damilola was suffering. Femi had bled for them.
And he felt it again.
That pull. That whisper. That fire in his bones.
"I don't know why this place calls to me," he said to himself, "but I'm done running from it."
He raised his hood.
"We ride at midnight."
t know that just beyond the tree line —
his sister stood.
> The Lost King © 2025 by (Idris Bilal Adavize).
This is an original work protected bycopyright. No part of this story may be reproduced or used in any form without the author's written permission.