Bomani perched discreetly behind a large rock, looking at his map and surveyed the area where they had stopped. He looked at Farra intently, “This must be the place.”
Farra sat next to Bomani quietly peeking over his shoulder, while Pupa was busy digging into the ground after a small animal he had seen. The clearing was dismal and isolated. It was obvious that the “X” on the map represented the strange hut they saw before them.
The hut lay at the northern end of Forbidden Expanse, south of the large mountainous border of the Edge Mountains. It was separated from the rest of Madunia, and only accessible through the pathway taken by Bomani and Farra to get this far.
There was not much to be said about the hut’s upkeep, but it was surely decorated and adorned. It was perhaps the most decorated hut Bomani had ever seen, and also probably the worst decorated at that. It was made of adobe; the clay brick walls were covered in odd trinkets and sparsely decorated with bones. They could not quite decipher all the species of bone that hung along the worn and weather-beaten hut, but at least one kind was human.
“It looks so creepy. You sure it’s in there?” Farra asked.
“Not exactly, but that’s what it says on the map, and I don’t see anything else around here.”
“It’s got bones all over it. I’m not going in there.”
“So,” he replied, “don’t.”
Bomani looked at her with a smirk and winked. Then, like an athlete, he hopped over the rock and headed for the hut.
“Wait!” Farra called to him in the loudest whisper she could manage; her timid eyes peeked at him from over the rock.
Bomani stopped for a second and turned to her. “What?”
Farra did not respond.
“Well, are you coming or not?” Bomani demanded.
Farra shook her head.
“Suit yourself,” were Bomani’s last words before he proceeded. He moved cautiously against the side of the hut. He pulled his spear out, but left his shield mounted on his back and slowly made his way to the door. He took a moment to look back at Farra, who seemed too terrified to even move. Even Bomani was a little apprehensive as he reached out to open the door.
Before his hand touched it, the door suddenly flew open! Bomani jumped back defensively and held his spear. A decrepit old woman stood before him. Her cloak was overly decorated in trinkets, feathers, and bone, much like the hut.
“You have something against knocking?” she asked as she glared into him. “It’s not polite to walk into someone’s house. Haven’t you any manners?”
“Huh?” the startled boy replied.
“Prowling, around outside isn’t the way to go about it either.”
“Sorry, Bibi.” Bomani used a word often used to mean Madame; he had never seen anyone dress in such a way, it caught him off guard. His uneasy fear of her caused him to be more polite than usual.
“Well,” asked the old woman.
“Well what?” Bomani asked.
“Well, do you want to come in?”
“I think so. I think I’m supposed to.”
“Supposed to, eh? Sounds like destiny. Are you trying to tell me that it is your destiny to come inside my home?”
“Uh, according to this map, yes. Yes, it is,” Bomani said as he reorganized his thoughts.
“Well then, since you seem to be so sure, come on in.” She held the door open with a gnarled and knobby hand and waited for him to enter. Bomani walked past her and went inside the dim hut. The old woman started to follow him, but then she paused and looked back over her shoulder.
“Well?” she said, calling out to Farra loudly, in a strained and unpleasant yelp, “You’d better come too. And bring the dog.”
Farra stood up from behind the rock sheepishly and looked down at Pupa.
“Wolf,” Farra corrected.
“Woof?” the old woman shouted to Farra as she approached. “Are you a dog too?” she asked mockingly.
“Uh, no Bibi. It’s Pupa here, he’s a wolf, not a dog.”
“I have some news for you little girl, a wolf is a dog. And since you’re so intent on identity, don’t call me Madame, it’s too formal. My name is Hagga.”
“Yes, Bi...—I mean, Hagga.”
“Humph. Like I said, are you coming in, or not?”
The inside of the hut was more horrid than its exterior, but it seemed to be four times bigger. In the middle of the main room sat a huge cauldron. The air felt thick and damp, and it carried the oddest smells. Bomani could not decipher whether the smells were coming from the strange animals she had caged around the room, or from whatever was boiling in the cauldron.
“I put on a fresh pot in preparation for your arrival,” said Hagga.
“What do you mean, in preparation? How did you know that we were coming?” asked Farra.
“I am a shaman, I have been known to know certain things. I have always known that you would come. It is in the prophecy. But, I didn’t know that you would be here today, on this particular day till, oh.... a week ago. You were right, boy. It was your destiny to come inside. You just didn’t know it yet.”
“How could you have known that? I just found out a couple days ago,” asked a very skeptical Bomani.
“Ah, but they knew,” she said and pointed upward. She drew a handful of strange rocks from her raggedy garment, and threw them onto the ground. She gazed upon them for a moment and spoke again. “Two young ones, they say. One born of the moon and one born under it.”
The words sounded unpleasant as they fell on Bomani’s ears, because he did not understand them. He dropped his face in his hands and shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“What is your name, boy?” asked Hagga.
“The prophecies didn’t tell you that? Don’t you already know what my name is?”
“Don’t trifle with me, boy. I’m too old for it.” As she spoke, she grabbed a few glass vials from a rickety shelf, and sprinkled small portions in the bubbling broth that simmered in the large cauldron.
“His name is Bomani, I am Farra, and this is little Pupa.”
“Yes, and you are an Anifem, aren’t you. I see your mark is not yet complete. Ah, just begun in fact. In time, your powers will grow.” She leaned over and looked at Bomani. “This one thinks he already has all the power in the world. There is always room to grow, boy. Otherwise, what’s the point?”
Bomani was impatient, and he was beginning to feel agitated by all of this conversation. He had not come this far just to talk, or meet new people. He wanted the Ifa Scepter.
“I don’t understand. Do you have the Ifa Scepter?”
“No! What would I do with a thing like that?” Hagga laughed. “That kind of power is not intended for one person to possess.”
“You mean it isn’t here?”
“Why, of course it isn’t here. Do you think I would be selfish enough to keep something like that to myself?”
“I really don’t know what to think.”
“You should have more faith in Hagga,” Hagga said.
“But aren’t you Hagga?” Farra interrupted.
“That’s right! I am!”
“Then this map is useless,” said Bomani. “Why did Anu have a useless map?”
Hagga continued to add ingredients to her stew. Bomani could not identify what most of the ingredients were, but there were a few items that he could make out. She added various animal bones, a live nuka, a hairless rodent-like creature whose skin produced a yellow, slimy, film that made it difficult to handle once caught. It was amazing that Hagga was able to pull the creature from its cage with her twisted fingers. Bomani turned his nose up, but made no comment.
“Was the map actually given to you?” Hagga asked.
“Hmmm, actually no. I sort of took it.”
“Wait,” said Farrah. “You stole the map?”
Bomani looked at her, but did not answer.
“Then
who are you to complain — a thief,” said Hagga. “Or perhaps just a young, troubled boy trying to prove himself to the world.”
“But he said it was the map to the Ifa Scepter. Whether I took it or not doesn’t change that. Besides, I am the King’s son. I am entitled.”
“No one is entitled to steal. Let me see that map.” She snatched the map from Bomani. “Ah, I see. Yes, yes, yes.”
“What is it? What do you see?” Bomani asked.
“There is nothing wrong with your map, child.”
“I am not a child, I will be King someday.”
“To be so foolish as to speak to Hagga in such a manner, makes you very childish.” Hagga reprimanded him. “Besides, this map doesn’t lead you to the Ifa Scepter.”
“What do you mean, it doesn’t lead me to the scepter? But, Anu — he said…”
“Silence! This map, impatient one, it is supposed to lead you to me.”
“How does that help us?” asked Bomani.
“Oh, just let her finish, Bomani,” said Farra.
Hagga spit into the pot three times, bowed her head before them, and then continued, “Because, boy, I am the map to the scepter you seek.”
Bomani choked back his repulsion and asked, “Then you know where it is?”
“Yes, I do. This is not the end of your journey, boy. This is just the beginning. To get what you want, you must travel much, much, further than Hagga’s little hut.”
“Aw, further?” Farra sighed.
“Yes, a lot further. What makes you children think you are strong enough for such a task?” Hagga asked.
“Do you think we are strong enough?” Farra asked.
“Don’t answer questions with questions, child. It’s rude.”
“But I must find it!” Bomani demanded, “I have to find the scepter.”
“What is so special about the Ifa Scepter anyway?” asked Farra.
“Ah, a history lesson. Regarding the future and prophecies, you come to Hagga. For the past, you must ask the Griot.”
“What’s a Griot?”
“A Griot knows all things of the past. He is a verbal library, the keeper of our ancestry, a historian, and my husband.”
She pointed to what seemed to be a wall. “Hey hubby, wake up! We have guests. They want to ask you something.”
Bomani followed her finger to the wall but saw nothing, and then in the dimness of the poorly lit room amongst the horribly decorated wall, he saw two eyes materialize in a slow and surreal flicker. They were both startled and confused because just as quickly as the eyes materialized, they disappeared. Farra grabbed Bomani’s arm. This time he did not push her away and secretly he was glad to have her nearby. Then, a distorted image stepped forward and pulled away from the flatness of the wall into the third dimension. Bomani gasped and then realized that it was an old man. He had been standing there sleeping the entire time. Like his wife, he was also very wrinkled and haggard and he had to be more than six feet tall. He towered over everyone else in the room, and like Hagga, he was dressed in clothes that seemed as though he had worn them for a hundred years.
A sash made of decayed rat femurs draped across his tall, withered frame, and Bomani was flabbergasted. It took him a moment but after he collected his courage, he walked right up to the Griot and asked, “Are you the Griot?”
The Griot glared down at Bomani and nodded as he gave an affirmative moan.
“Hi, Mr. Griot.” Farra greeted him hesitantly. “Can you tell us of the history of the Ifa Scepter?”
The Griot’s eyes closed. He began to murmur in a deep, low voice in a foreign tongue that Bomani could not understand.
“What’s he doing?” Farra whispered.
“Sometimes a Griot cannot simply deliver a piece of history,” said Hagga. “He must go through it from the beginning until he arrives at the moment one is looking for.”
He began at the beginning of time, when the God Olorun lowered a gold chain from the sky. He told how Obatala climbed down this chain and proceeded to create the dry land. He traveled through the creation of man and man’s history, as he knew it, until he arrived finally at the Ifa Scepter, then spoke in a manner in which they could understand.
“Ah,” said the Griot, “Here we are, the Ifa Scepter.” He placed his staff into the cauldron; an image appeared as he spoke:
Well after the beginnings of creation, yet well before all that you know came to be, the god of harvest, En-Kai, who rules over rain, vegetation, and blessings, took pleasure in providing man with what he needed. The plentiful land always produced enough to keep their bellies full and the people strong. The people were grateful and gave praise to En-Kai, and all of the gods that touched their world.
Generations passed. The people began to forget where the good harvest came from; they took the gods for granted and they stopped giving thanks. The people had completely forgotten that it was En-Kai that made their land so fertile. The angry god decided he would forsake man. He then took his nourishing hands off of Madunia, and the land became infertile. The people soon begged and pleaded to the gods, but the gods said, "Why should we provide for you when you are so quick to forget us?"
So a pact was made, and together the gods and man forged the Ifa Scepter. And from then on, man was required to actively use the scepter to communicate with the god of harvest. Man later learned that the scepter carried other attributes as well. He later learned that through the scepter, man could gain power. It is for this power that men of greed have sought after it, for many would selfishly use it to gain power for themselves.”
In the image of his cauldron the Ifa Scepter sat in a cave in a large, dark clearing, lit by the shimmers of thousands and thousands of small diamonds and other colored jewels embedded in the cavern walls. Beautifully, they reflected the light of the Ifa Scepter…
Chapter 6
CRYSTALS, STAFFS, AND POWER
The Ancient Lands: Warrior Quest, Search for the Ifa Scepter Page 8