FOLLOWING THIS INITIAL lesson, Okafor guides Zakkai to another wing of the building where he is given a room of his own. The accommodations are simple, even lacking by the exiled prince's standards, nothing more than a small square box containing a cot and a corner desk. The tiniest wardrobe of all time stands ajar to one side, and only a slit in the wall allows any light through. He can hardly see it as anything more than a cell.

However, they quickly proceed from here, as it is now time for an afternoon meal. Okafor insists that he has a previous commitment—perhaps with the mother of that daughter he somehow has, Zakkai muses—but does leave him in the care of another initiate who knows his way around the base.

So Zakkai strides alongside the stout student who had been battling the lanky giant when he had first entered the practice chamber. He carries himself with a joyous demeanor, a smile always on his lips and a twinkle always in his eye. So far, he prattles on about how privileged they are to have Okafor as a teacher, leaving little chance for the prince to interject.

"Oh! I have been quite rude. I never introduced myself. I am Rafiki, but they all call me Rafi for short. What is your name?"

Zakkai swallows, rounding another corner and finding another equally drab hallway beyond. "I am Prince Zakkai, son of King Dahudi and exile of the land of Esraya."

"Esraya, eh? Never heard of the place. Is it far from here?"

"Exceedingly far. I trekked for two months to reach Zafanya from there."

"What an adventure that must have been!"

"You could say that."

Rafi purses his lips. "What compelled you to journey here, I wonder?"

"I had little choice. As I said, I had been banished from the land I was born to rule."

"My question is more or less a curiosity on why you chose Zafanya specifically."

"I could find no place to call home any closer."

"Ah, I see. In that case, I assure you of our warmest welcome. There is room in the Zafanyan heart for anyone seeking shelter."

"A fact for which I am most grateful." Zakkai says. "I pray I may one day return the favor."

The pair ascend two flights of stairs and find themselves in a new section of the base, much warmer of lighting and richer in decoration. They stride along a railed walkway overlooking an open courtyard, then pass through a doorway opening to another large chamber. Here, about a hundred men sit at tables in groups and eat heartily while engaging in spirited conversation.

Against the back wall proceeds another line of about a dozen who stop at periodic openings and are served portions of rice, vegetables, and meat to fill their platters. The piquant aromas coax Zakkai closer, and sure enough, Rafi also turns to take a spot in the back of the line.

Zakkai follows Rafi's lead, taking a metal platter from a pile on a square table. They each put a piece of flatbread on the dish and step forward, waiting their respective turns to be served through the windows leading to a kitchen on the other side of the wall. As he had seen from afar, Zakkai's platter is soon weighed down by a serving of spiced rice, a generous spoonful of root vegetables and a grilled half of a plantain, and lastly, a pinkish cut of beef.

Rafi strides over to a table toward the corner of the room, where two men already sit and two empty seats remain. As he sets his platter down across from Rafi, Zakkai locks eyes with a familiar youth whose hostility stops him in his tracks. It is the very same young man who had apprehended him about a week ago in the market.

"Look who it is," the youth says, his near-black eyes narrowing. "A thief now sits among us."

"I have not yet taken a seat," Zakkai protests, watching Rafi plop down across the table. "And perhaps I should avoid such hostile company."

Rafi scoffs. "Nonsense. We are all students of Okafor, so we ought to make peace with one another. Zakkai, this is Ejike the disowned nobleman, and Ejike, this is Zakkai the exiled prince. You two have more in common than you probably realize!"

The introduction itself is an insult, but Rafi must be too foolish to pick up on this. Zakkai and Ejike remain interlocked in a death stare. Tension builds between the two, manifested in the clenching of their jaws. Meanwhile, Rafi obliviously crunches on flatbread in Zakkai's peripheral.

"Pleased to meet you, Zakkai." Ejike spits, but the disdainful manner in which he draws out his name is indication enough of his insincerity.

"Likewise," Zakkai lies as he finally takes a seat.

Rafi directs their attention to the towering man he had been bested by earlier that day. "And this is Jabari, my brother from another mother."

Jabari shoots Rafi a good-natured grin. "I am in no way related to this pig. Welcome to our table, Prince Zakkai."

"We do not use titles at this table, Jabari," Ejike scolds. "We are simply students of Elder Okafor. No more, no less."

"Of course. I only intended to be respectful."

"A gesture I wholeheartedly appreciate," Zakkai says with a pointed glance at Ejike. "Evidently, Zafanyan noblemen are not taught proper manners."

"And evidently, Esraya's royalty are not instructed on the immorality of stealing."

"My fellows, my fellows," Rafi calls out, "food this delicious is not to be eaten in hostility. Let us put aside our differences and seek common ground."

The common ground the table finds is not conversational in nature. Instead, all four dip their heads and scarf down their meals in silence. Rafi hums in enjoyment of the delicacies on his platter, but aside from his droning, silence reigns supreme. Zakkai and Ejike exchange a glare here and there without speaking further.

Rafi clears his throat later on, when only three bites remain on his plate. "So, Zakkai, what is Esraya like, I wonder? Surely a land two months' journey away can hardly resemble the nation I am familiar with."

"I cannot speak with certainty on the prosperity of this nation, this empire, rather, but Esraya wears her wealth proudly, unlike Zafanya. She is a bustling hub of commerce and trade on the east coast, much cooler than here in temperature, but full of abundance and luxury."

"Ah, it is on the eastern seaboard, then. Is Esraya the mightiest country in the region?"

Zakkai shakes his head. "In the east, might is not what makes a nation great. Esraya is the dominant power, but her supremacy is based on facilitating trade and managing the flow of currency. We in the east maintain militaries strictly for defense, as seizing territory and conquering neighbors are never needful objectives."

"Zafanya is no bully of her neighbors either, you must understand. But a great many countries rely on our military might to fight off the wandering pillagers who ravage the savannah."

"You refer to the Kalguri, I assume."

"The Kalguri are certainly notable as a threat, but they are not alone," Rafi says. "There are many tribes who turn to raiding and violence when their fortunes dwindle."

Ejike smirks. "Our exiled prince here would be quite welcome among them."

"Ejike, you are most unkind. Seated among us are two men of noble bearing. Neither of you would find a welcome home among such brutes."

"If you insist. I believe Elder Okafor has mistakenly allowed a spy into our midst."

Zakkai glares. "I am no spy!"

"Then why are you here?"

"I was cast out of the land I was to rule! Just as you apparently were."

"I was cast out because I was found to be a bastard son," Ejike growls. "I did nothing wrong. My mother did."

"And yet here we are."

"Yes, here I am stuck at a table with an insolent spy because my teacher had no heart to turn him away."

Rafi clears his throat. "My faith in Elder Okafor remains unshaken. If he sees potential in our new comrade, then so do I."

"As do I," Jabari speaks up. "I have no cause for faith in you yet, Prince Zakkai, but our teacher is a man as wise as he is kind. It is him that I trust."

"Trust all you want," Ejike says. "I require evidence."

Zakkai abruptly shoots to his feet. "Excuse me for a moment. I must gather my thoughts."

Leaving the table behind, Zakkai storms back out the door to the dining hall, enraged thoughts swirling in his head. This troublemaker Ejike has a way of finding ways to dig deeper and deeper under his skin with every word. How dare a bastard of all people question his integrity, his loyalty? His folly is the height of ignorance.

He wanders back down the path he and Rafi had taken to reach the dining hall, coming to the railed walkway spanning over the open courtyard. For a long minute, he gazes vacantly down at the spiral patterns on the tiled flooring below. The swirling designs are most mesmerizing.

Then a door clicks open beneath Zakkai, and he snaps to attention. Two figures in flowing robes amble across the courtyard, which he immediately recognizes as Elder Okafor and the one they had called "Ayodele" in the council chamber. The pair garbed in scarlet and green respectively speak in hushed tones, yet the echoes of the chamber carry their voices to Zakkai's ears.

"I still comprehend none of what has happened in these past few days, Desta," Okafor admits to his companion. "I know what I saw, but I have no clue what it all means."

Desta smooths out his beard in one hand while nodding thoughtfully. "My prayers on the matter have been unceasing. My conviction only grows stronger that we are seeing the fulfillment of the final prophecy."

"The prophecy foretells of a time of peace and unity spanning the entire continent. Yet we are seeing a time of peace broken and divisions renewed."

"Sometimes a limb must be removed so the body may live on."

"Do you truly believe a final war is upon us? That once we emerge victorious, we are destined to go forth and bring that peace to the remainder of the continent? These things are too great for me to accept."

"Too great for us, but not too great for our God."

"You may be right, but I have my doubts."

Desta slows to a stop and peers down at Okafor, half a head shorter than himself. "In all my days, I have never seen a true coincidence, Enu. Have you?"

"Truthfully, no. What seems to be a coincidence in the moment becomes clear upon later reflection."

"I see no coincidence in the fact that this boy wanders into our fold from a far off land, and only days later, you encounter a man risen from the dead. These are signs of a peculiar time, an unprecedented time. The end may be upon us."

"Do you truly believe...?"

"This boy you have taken under your wing may well be the fulfillment of the last prophecy."

Okafor takes a step forward, taking them closer to a door on the opposite side of the courtyard. "If this is so, I am not worthy of the task. You saw how Chukwudi turned out."

"Our weakness cannot obstruct the Lord's will, Enu. All your years of trial and tribulation may have been designed to prepare you for this moment."

"And yet I am not ready."

"Yet you must be." Delta's voice is solemn now. "You must stand up for the boy. He will face difficulties from his peers and our comrades in the Council alike. If he is destined to fulfill this prophecy, the devil will throw everything in his power at the boy to obstruct his path."

"You may be right. And if you are, this is the greatest battle ever set before me."

"Take courage, for out of any man I have fought beside, you are the one who has faced the least in the way of defeat."

Okafor's reply is lost to Zakkai as he passes into a room on the other side of the courtyard and the two elders shut the door behind them. Still, his curiosity reaches a fever pitch. He puzzles over this prophecy the pair speak over. What does it foretell, and how could he possibly fit into it, possibly even fulfill it? Is there truly some grand destiny he is set to fulfill?

Perhaps his banishment from Esraya and stumbling into Zafanya is nothing short of a miracle, the working of the Almighty to bring peace to the Teiporan continent. Maybe Prince Zakkai is the greatest man to walk the face of the earth. He holds his head high as he heads back for the dining hall, filled with a renewed sense of importance.