When Armad saw Ikenga's painting, he was dumbstruck and lost his composure. His fight with Ikenga last year kept coming back to haunt him.

"Do you know the gifted one?" The young man asked him, observing his expression.

Armad quickly recovered and shook his head. "I've only met him outside the prison once."

The young man raised an eyebrow in surprise, before finally catching his breath and asking Armad, "how did you meet? Are you his follower as well?"

"No, I didn't even know he has followers and I am certainly not one of them. And why would he unite followers even? Is he preparing for war or something?"

The young man smiled. "Yeah... that's the question everyone has been asking during the last year. No one has the answer except the gifted one himself and his top five commanders. But like I told you, he's expected to come here today, and even if he doesn't, he will appear this week to explain his intentions to his followers."

Armad decided to hear his old rival out. Although he didn't know him much, he felt there was something about him, a secret of pol that wasn't usual. Ikenga had spent a year in the prison already, which meant he came to the prison shortly after the jinzidal, or maybe even before the jinzidal. Although, that would mean he could enter and leave the prison freely. Then again, there was something amiss about it all.

"Sailári," Armad said. "Do you think I can join the crowd when Ikenga came?"

The young man burst out laughing. "Sailári? That is to say, in all five of my names you only remember that. Well, it's fine. But I have to tell you that Sailari is the name given to me by my stepmother and my mother doesn't like it. I have a younger sister named Ranâ Ƙísa Hurura Inshala Yaqa Dása. She likes calling me Sailari when our mother beat her. It was her retaliation."

The young man laughed again, remembering something that had happened in his childhood, before finally answering Armad's question. "Yes, you can come with me and join the crowd. The followers are so many that no one will even recognize you."

Armad nodded. "Well then, I'll be joining. By the way, why do you and your sister have many names? If I remember correctly your name is Indimi Iyka Sailari Citta Abati."

The young man sighed. "In my tribe, when a child's born they can have many names ranging from one to a hundred. The right to name a child is given to everyone who lives in the same house as the child. For example in my family of five, my father gave me Indimi, my mother gave me Abati, my grandmother gave me Iyka, my stepmother gave me Sailari, and then our servant gave me Citta. And my sister has six names after I was born."

The young man led Armad to his tent. "Let's get ready before the gifted one arrives."

On their way, sailári burst out laughing as he remembered something. Armad intended to ask why he was laughing but decided against it. But the man still explained. "I remember a friend who was born in a large family. His names were seventy-seven. When we went to school, it took about half an hour for his names to be called."

Armad was realizing the multi-cultural diversity of the seven worlds. He'd never heard of something like that in his entire life.

Once inside the tent, Sailari threw some bread to him. "You haven't eaten for a week but your body doesn't show, are you okay?"

Armad stared at the bread. He didn't feel hungry or thirsty at all. Did turning into lightning negate his need for food? But, of course, that wasn't something he could tell anyone. It was the characteristic of the great kings of djinns and it would be difficult for him if people knew about it. So he just smiled and threw the bread in his mouth but didn't give Sailari any answer. Sailari didn't mind it and just continued the conversation.

On that day, Armad knew almost everything about the small tribe of Náru. Ikenga didn't show up on that day. So was the next day and the next, for three days they waited. Word had spread about the gifted one coming and so the place was packed with people. Every day, Armad would go into the surrounding forests and test his skills, further studying the wall and planning how to escape. But that didn't stop Sailari from spending more time with him. The man just liked to talk and it seemed very few of the prisoners were willing to listen to him as Armad had.

On the fifth day, Armad became tired of waiting and was preparing to leave when suddenly the criers announced that the gifted one had arrived. The prisoners flocked out of their tents to see the gifted one. Armad stood in the crowd with Sailari, watching. It was then that Armad realized how many people were there. It was a mammoth crowd deserving of a jinzidal King. How was Ikenga able to gather that many people?

Soon Ikenga appeared wearing a red cloak and carrying a new sword on his back. He looked much bigger than before. But Armad could see he wasn't any bigger, it was his pol that was making him look big to the eyes of lesser men. Even so, Armad closed his eyes to feel the man's pol. However, he felt nothing, it was as if Ikenga had no pol at all. He recalled what Babara told him about how some of the elites hid their pol so no one would read them or know about their presence. Such elites could come and go without anyone knowing about them.