Africa Leveling

The dense air of the Evil Forest seemed lighter today. It was a rare moment when the group could take a break from their usual battles with supernatural forces, strange villagers, and themselves. The weariness on their faces had started to dissipate, replaced by a kind of curiosity they hadn't felt in a long time.

Jajwok, Olamsuri, Kipkemboi, and Kit Mi Kai had stumbled upon an old village that none of them remembered seeing on their travels. The village was bustling with activity, filled with laughter and music—completely unlike anything they'd encountered since entering the forest. The scent of spiced meat and fresh bread wafted through the air, drawing them closer.

"What is this place?" Jajwok asked, his eyes wide as he gazed at the colorful banners and stalls.

"Looks like some sort of festival," Kipkemboi replied, tilting his head as he surveyed the scene.

Kit Mi Kai remained silent, his expression as unreadable as always. But something about the energy of the village intrigued even him.

An elderly woman, with a face lined like old parchment, approached the group with a knowing smile. "Welcome, travelers," she said in a rasping voice. "You've arrived just in time for the Festival of Forgotten Stars."

"The Festival of what?" Olamsuri raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

"It's a celebration we hold once every hundred years," the woman explained. "For a single night, we honor those who have been forgotten by the world. Lost souls, fallen heroes, those who have faded from memory."

Kipkemboi frowned. "Sounds... a bit sad."

"It is not a festival of sorrow," she corrected. "But of remembrance. Those who have no one to remember them find peace here."

Something about the words struck a chord with Jajwok. Forgotten souls? He glanced at his companions. How long would it be before they, too, became forgotten in this strange, chaotic world?

"Do they have food?" Jajwok asked abruptly, snapping out of his thoughts. He hadn't had a proper meal in days, and the smell of roasting meat made his stomach growl loudly.

The old woman chuckled softly. "Indeed, young one. Feast, enjoy. Tonight, you are not warriors. You are simply guests."

Without another word, she shuffled off into the crowd, leaving the group standing there, slightly bewildered.

"Well, I'm not one to turn down free food," Kipkemboi said with a grin, already heading toward the food stalls.

Jajwok eagerly followed, while Olamsuri and Kit Mi Kai trailed behind, more cautiously observing the surroundings.

The village was a maze of small thatched houses, open squares filled with dancers and performers, and booths where villagers sold trinkets, food, and drinks. Children ran through the streets, their laughter echoing like birds in the air.

As they ate, a loud, rhythmic drumming began in the center of the square. A group of dancers in bright, flowing costumes moved in sync with the beat, their feet stomping in perfect harmony.

"They're good," Olamsuri noted, watching the dancers.

Kipkemboi nodded in agreement. "I didn't think we'd see something like this out here. I thought everything in this forest wanted to kill us."

"Maybe they still do," Kit Mi Kai murmured under his breath, but even he couldn't ignore the festive atmosphere.

As the night wore on, the stars began to appear overhead, twinkling brightly against the backdrop of the dark sky. The villagers started lighting candles and lanterns, each one representing a forgotten soul. Soon, the village square was illuminated by hundreds of small flames, casting a soft, golden glow over everything.

Olamsuri, intrigued by the festival's meaning, approached the elder woman once again. "You said this is a festival for those who have been forgotten. What happens to them?"

The old woman smiled, though this time it seemed more wistful. "Each soul forgotten in the world becomes a star in the sky. And tonight, we call upon them to watch over us, just for a little while. In the morning, they will fade away once more, waiting for another hundred years."

Olamsuri looked up, gazing at the countless stars above. "That's... beautiful, in a way."

"Yes," the woman agreed. "It reminds us that nothing, not even death, is the end. Memories live on, even if only in the stars."

A peaceful silence fell over them as they looked up at the sky.

---

Meanwhile, Jajwok had wandered off on his own, his curiosity leading him toward the outskirts of the village. As he explored, he came across an old stone monument, weathered and cracked with age. It was covered in strange symbols and carvings, none of which he could read. But something about it drew him closer.

As he approached, a faint glow began to emanate from the monument. Jajwok hesitated, unsure of whether to back away or go closer. His instincts told him to turn around, but his curiosity won out.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against the cold stone. The moment he made contact, a vision flashed before his eyes—a battlefield, bodies strewn across the ground, and in the distance, a single warrior standing tall, his face obscured by shadow.

Jajwok staggered back, pulling his hand away from the monument.

"What the...?"

Before he could process what had happened, a figure appeared next to him—a man, dressed in ancient armor, his face weary and scarred. He looked down at Jajwok with a tired smile.

"You're the first to find me in centuries," the man said, his voice echoing in Jajwok's mind.

"Who... who are you?" Jajwok stammered.

The man raised his hand, signaling that he meant no harm. "I am no one. Just a forgotten soul, like so many others. But tonight, the stars shine for us."

Jajwok blinked, the realization dawning on him. This man was one of the forgotten. A star, walking the earth for just one night.

"You fought in a war?" Jajwok asked, gesturing to the man's armor.

"Yes," the man replied simply. "But it was long ago. Now, I am just a memory."

Jajwok wasn't sure what to say. He had seen so much death, so much destruction, but something about this man's calm acceptance of his fate unsettled him.

The man gave Jajwok a sad smile. "Do not mourn for us. We are content with our place in the stars. But remember this: no one is truly forgotten, as long as someone remembers their story."

With that, the man faded, leaving Jajwok alone once more. He stared at the monument for a long time, the man's words echoing in his mind.

Back at the festival, the others had gathered around the fire, sharing stories and laughter. Jajwok returned quietly, sitting down next to Olamsuri without a word.

"Where did you go?" she asked, noticing his silence.

Jajwok shook his head. "Just... thinking."

Olamsuri raised an eyebrow but didn't press him further.

As the night wore on, the group found themselves relaxing in the warmth of the fire, the sounds of the festival continuing around them. For the first time in a long while, they felt at peace, even if it was just for one night.

Above them, the stars twinkled brightly, a reminder of the forgotten souls watching over them.