Post by komasa on Jan 11, 2006 17:07:27 GMT -5
The dry leaves rattle, the sere grasses sway and writhe, whipped by the hot winds. The dry season is upon us, but the arid winds carry more than dust...great change is coming to the tUbi Grasslands and the Shombe are not prepared. Barely men, they have sent us forth to learn the truth of the darkness, borne upon the winds. Many of the great warriors of the Shumaza clan, our tribe, were lost fighting the great malata tree that drove us from our grazing lands and now Fumo and the clan elders tell us that we are the best hope remaining for our people.
The poison oracle has seen much in the death throes of his chickens, though I do not understand his words. How can we possibly help the Shumaza when he claims that we are not destined to return in the lifetime of the people of our village? He foretells of a long journey ahead of us, six young men barely blooded, that will lead us into the spirit world. Somehow this journey is fated to be a spiritual journey, and it would seem that the oryx has declared itself to be our guide.
I do not question the guidance given by the oryx, I only wish I knew where it was leading us and what it expects from us. So many people seem to know something of who we are supposed to be and what lies ahead of us, but all they give us are cryptic words and half-spoken truths. Even my guardian, Chumisa--our guardian, Runako and me--has indicated that our people were in the midst of an important quest through the grasslands when slaughtered by the entare, but she refused to speak of that quest. She would only say that our true purpose would make itself evident.
But now I have no reason to doubt Fumo's predictions. It has become evident that Bedaga the Trickster, orisha of roads and journeys, has taken a marked interest in us for we are no longer in the grasslands of our home. We've trusted the omens and the readings, and we've trusted the oryx, and now a short walk from our village has led us deep into the rainforest.
I am proud of my brothers to see how much more accomplished we have become. Just a few short moons ago we were green boys sent out to earn our names, but now we are capable and confident. Like me, they trust the oryx to lead us on and show us the path that lies before us. It reappeared to us as we were being stalked by three hyenas. We made short work of the hyenas, and afterward, without questioning, my brothers and I followed the oryx to the circle of stones. One after another we all stepped into the circle and vanished, only to reappear in this strange, new place.
We stepped from the sere grasslands into the midst of a shallow stream, flowing through the heart of the deep jungle lands. There is life here, teeming life, it is unlike anything I have ever seen in the harshness of the grasslands. And we are surrounded by trees and thick vegetation, and all manner of creatures lurk in the shadows. And all manner of strange creatures dwell in the villages as well.
It would seem that the oryx has led us to a place called Mounchili-a place unlike any other I have ever seen. The village exists as much underground and in the treetops as on the ground. With the Tembu live the strange wakyambi elves and the agogwe, tree dwellers and ground burrowers, all living together. I cannot imagine why the oryx brought us here. These people are nothing like us. This place is nothing like home. How are we to find answers amongst people who cannot even begin to understand life on the grasslands?
Komasa of the Mbanta
The poison oracle has seen much in the death throes of his chickens, though I do not understand his words. How can we possibly help the Shumaza when he claims that we are not destined to return in the lifetime of the people of our village? He foretells of a long journey ahead of us, six young men barely blooded, that will lead us into the spirit world. Somehow this journey is fated to be a spiritual journey, and it would seem that the oryx has declared itself to be our guide.
I do not question the guidance given by the oryx, I only wish I knew where it was leading us and what it expects from us. So many people seem to know something of who we are supposed to be and what lies ahead of us, but all they give us are cryptic words and half-spoken truths. Even my guardian, Chumisa--our guardian, Runako and me--has indicated that our people were in the midst of an important quest through the grasslands when slaughtered by the entare, but she refused to speak of that quest. She would only say that our true purpose would make itself evident.
But now I have no reason to doubt Fumo's predictions. It has become evident that Bedaga the Trickster, orisha of roads and journeys, has taken a marked interest in us for we are no longer in the grasslands of our home. We've trusted the omens and the readings, and we've trusted the oryx, and now a short walk from our village has led us deep into the rainforest.
I am proud of my brothers to see how much more accomplished we have become. Just a few short moons ago we were green boys sent out to earn our names, but now we are capable and confident. Like me, they trust the oryx to lead us on and show us the path that lies before us. It reappeared to us as we were being stalked by three hyenas. We made short work of the hyenas, and afterward, without questioning, my brothers and I followed the oryx to the circle of stones. One after another we all stepped into the circle and vanished, only to reappear in this strange, new place.
We stepped from the sere grasslands into the midst of a shallow stream, flowing through the heart of the deep jungle lands. There is life here, teeming life, it is unlike anything I have ever seen in the harshness of the grasslands. And we are surrounded by trees and thick vegetation, and all manner of creatures lurk in the shadows. And all manner of strange creatures dwell in the villages as well.
It would seem that the oryx has led us to a place called Mounchili-a place unlike any other I have ever seen. The village exists as much underground and in the treetops as on the ground. With the Tembu live the strange wakyambi elves and the agogwe, tree dwellers and ground burrowers, all living together. I cannot imagine why the oryx brought us here. These people are nothing like us. This place is nothing like home. How are we to find answers amongst people who cannot even begin to understand life on the grasslands?
Komasa of the Mbanta