Until the elder stepped forward.
He looked at Kaya silently, then raised a hand—
And gently touched her head.
The next moment—
He spat.
Right there, onto the ground near her feet.
Kaya didn't flinch.
Because she understood what it meant.
It wasn't disgust.
It was a test.
A tribal tradition perhaps, to taste sincerity from submission. Or maybe just his own strange ritual.
But he had seen her.
Really seen her.
And now, she had passed.
Kaya said nothing.
She didn't rise or defend her pride.
Because this wasn't about pride.
It was about survival.
And as she stood there, the cool breeze ruffled her hair.
Hearing her previous words, all three—Sparrow, Cutie, and Vayu—stood completely still.
For a moment, just a brief moment, they were stunned.
Not because they believed her.
But because the way she spoke—the crack in her voice, the way her eyes shimmered—it almost looked real. For a heartbeat, they saw vulnerability.
And then it disappeared.
