Origins of an African Elemental

by Alicia McCalla

  He screamed aimlessly into the jungle, “Iniko Mattata, I will avenge my father. I will kill you in retribution! I swear it.”

  Iniko nursed her forehead as the mate bond showed her the image that Kuumba’s eyes blazed the same as his father’s, and he now carried the sharp bone-tooth sword.

  The mate bond snapped shut.

  When the noise quieted, she shed tears, clutched her sweet baby to her chest then quickly and quietly crossed to the other side of the lagoon to safety. Iniko vowed she would never abandon her child as she’d been abandoned. Her Zawadi would always know a mother’s love.

  As long as Iniko had her war sword and dagger, her child would be protected from this ancient evil.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Iniko

  10 years later...

  Dirt flew in Iniko’s eyes from the dusty chaos. She remained hidden in a shallow cave with her child. Demon-infected slavers with puss-filled mouth lesions hauled screaming girls—all magic bearers for their clan—as if they were fatty meat.

  Iniko knew those slavers were searching for her. The goddess had come to her in a dream while she slept in the community hut, and made her flee with her child into the chilly night. Her daughter, Zawadi, was important to the earth goddess and needed special protection.

  The goddess was clear that Iniko and her daughter must hide. But Iniko’s muscles twitched with every scream, aching to spring into battle.

  Her daughter’s elemental magic hid them away in a protective bubble, but she didn’t know how long it would last for the two. Zawadi was strong, but at ten years old, she was still just a child. Iniko took a frustrated breath. She wished she had her own magic, but her lot in life was to be a guardian of magic.

  She was a warrior.

  Iniko gripped the handle of her machete-like war sword, the same that Mawu, earth goddess, gave to all guardians. Her hand burned to use the Akofena war sword.

  Iniko’s stomach writhed as she watched the little priestesses battle grown men and lose. They didn’t possess enough elemental magic to control the Obayifo demon-infected beasts.

  She choked back her war cry as she watched the slavers restrain one girl to drain her of her life force and magic. The youngling’s final screams rattled her soul.

  Her daughter’s magic flickered.

  Iniko turned in concern. The cave was barely large enough for one person to hide. Her baba would be safer—if she protected only herself. Iniko heard more screams on the other side of the village. It made her sick that the villagers who had shown her kindness were victims. They treated her better than her adopted family.

  Iniko appreciated the acceptance of the villagers, and she wanted to fight for their survival. She believed in protecting loved ones and family.

  Her sweet baba was all she had left from her broken marriage. There was a time when Iniko was loved and revered, but once her husband accepted the dark passenger and became one of the vessels of the Guhruhi, the ancient evil that the great mother warned her about, their lives changed.

  She’d been on the run from him for more than ten years, and she knew her once beloved Kuumba would not stop until he killed her and turned their child into his trokosi slave wife.

  “Mama, I can’t hold it,” Zawadi said, exhausted, sweat beading on her brow.

  With Zawadi’s strength failing, Iniko knew she had no choice but to ignore the goddess’s command to hide. She could be of more help by clearing the village of the Obayifo vermin.

  “It’s fine. I will stand and I will fight. Protect yourself, baba. When I have killed them all, I will return for you.” Iniko put her dagger in one hand and her Akofena war sword in the other. The war beads around her waist and ankles rattled as she bolted out of the cave and into the bloody scene within the heat of the day.

  A blond-haired Obayifo slaver emerged from the clustered palm branches surrounding the village shrine. His glowing demonic eyes fixed on her as he wiped the bloodied saliva from his chin. He stormed towards her like a rabid hyena.

  She let out a battle cry and charged the slaver. The rancid odor of decayed flesh burned her nostrils as she jabbed his belly with her dagger and shoved him back with her other forearm.

  He stumbled, and she kicked him the rest of the way to the ground. The Obayifo slaver moaned, rolling back and forth in dazed confusion. He tried to get up, but Iniko was warrior goddess fast. She raised her Akofena war sword and landed a blow between the white man’s head and neck.

  Blood released like a gory spring, but he was still not dead. He writhed around like a wounded antelope. Iniko hacked, finally severing the man’s head from his neck. With righteous fury and dismay, she turned towards the wails of the little priestesses.

  Iniko was a guardian, and it was her fault that these inhuman beasts were here. She’d kill them all with her own hands.

  Iniko hacked her way into a heavy death toll.

  She kicked in doors of the windowless huts and searched for Obayifo slavers to kill. As she wove her way through the connected compound, the stench of the festering flesh threatened to turn her insides. These beasts seemed possessed by a more powerful magic than she’d seen. Wiping the world clean of this evil felt like liberation and justice.

  The sun sank behind the village in the grasslands. Iniko sensed her baba was safe, but there were too many Obayifo slavers for her to focus. The coolness of the dry season’s night brought chill bumps on her arms. Hopefully, she could retrieve her daughter and they could rest, soon.

  Iniko heard the new war cries from guardians arriving from another village. She was not alone, and they were a welcome sight among the never-ending Obayifo in the coming darkness. Iniko worried why these heinous beasts were so strong and in such high numbers.

  She wiped the blood and sweat from her face with the back of her arm. Her beads clattered—she took a cleansing breath and kept killing.

  The new guardians set fire to the corpses while the others continued to battle. The combined Adinkra symbols on the war swords brightened the center of the overrun village. Mawu’s warriors fought valiantly against the demonic darkness. Amidst the smoky firelight from the burning bodies, Iniko heard war chants combined with the beating of the Akan drum and became enthralled within the battle, moving to the sounds of her own Agzobo war dance.

  Her strength was high until a knot of pain in the center of her forehead brought her to her knees. Iniko received a powerful vision of her sweet baba being captured by the Obayifo slavers. Her heart sped up. She shook off the prophetic dream and raced towards the cave where she’d left her Zawadi.

  Iniko ran, jumping over broken clay pots, shattered lives, and the destruction of a once-prosperous village. As she rounded the corner, she was stopped by a blinding sight.

  Her breath caught in her throat. She dropped her shoulders and her battle-worn hands. She stood a few feet from her husband. His tall, dark body was chiseled and glistened like that of a god, but his eyes glowed crimson and his fingernails looked like long spiky talons.

  Something small within Iniko gleamed with pride. Her Kuumba was a force to be reckoned with. He was a strong warrior and a powerful magician. Iniko watched him lead the white men and crush his opponents using his bone-tooth sword and dark magic, but her pride burst when she realized he’d captured their child and had her roped and chained like a slave. Something inside her soul ruptured.

  The despair in her daughter’s eyes drove Iniko to her final resolution: she’d have to kill her husband if she ever wanted to be free.

  Iniko held her head up high, raised both arms in battle, and bolted toward her husband with the rage of a warrior’s freedom song and the strong conviction of a mother protecting her child.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Kuumba

  The evil force slithered within Kuumba’s mind.

  “Slaughter. Kill. Drain,” the Guhruhi whispered.

  Kuumba squared his shoulders. He was a descendant of Eshu, son of a fetish priest and bearer of great magic; he had been bred for thi
s chaotic purpose. He’d made one simple mistake he needed to fix.

  He smiled.

  “Retrieve your magic. Kill her.” The Guhruhi showed him images of what he could become. Kuumba relished the visions of himself as the one and only vessel of the Guhruhi. He held his head back and laughed. He wanted revenge, but he also needed all the potency of his magic, which meant his wife must die. The Guhruhi demanded more sustenance, and he would get it. Kuumba allowed the darkness to flow through him as it fed and mangled the already dead bodies of the villagers. His fangs dropped down, and he became drunk with the power of chaos.

  When he found his wife, he would taste her slowly, savoring her. She’d slipped through his grasp many times, but he knew he was close to her. He could feel the magic calling out. It wanted to reconnect.

  The Guhruhi wanted it too. It needed to feed. Its appetite kept growing.

  Kuumba looked down at that little priestess they’d found hidden in the cave. When he put the weight of his gaze on her, she cringed and held her head low. Her power was spent, but her fierce independence made him pause. Her almond-shaped brown eyes reminded him of Iniko. His stomach flip-flopped and burned. No one in his bloodline ever birthed girl children. Eshu’s magic made it so none from his male lineage could birth girls.

  The old wound reopened. Iniko had obviously slept with another and birthed this girl child while they were newly married. She’d tried to trick him into believing this was his child. The knowledge of his wife’s treachery boiled. He’d vowed to kill Iniko and make her girl child his trokosi slave-wife to atone for Iniko’s sins.

  He smiled--to himself. Kuumba relished his final retribution, just like he’d murdered Iniko’s adopted family for tricking him into taking the blood ritual that made him share his magic and created the mate bond to a deceiver.

  The little priestess raised her eyes to his as tears threatened to release, silently pleading with him. He remembered Iniko’s eyes and his youth. His heart softened. When he first saw Iniko, she was a shining beauty with a quick wit and the demeanor of a loving goddess. Everything about her warmed his soul. He had to have her. Her honey-colored skin and brown eyes captured his heart. He’d give her anything, and when the Akan Queen Mother came to him with the blood ritual, he took it freely. No matter what his father warned.

  He’d wanted to protect Iniko in any way he could, so he shared his magic with her. Her safety was ensured, and she would pass it down his bloodline to his sons.

  He smirked, then peered angrily at the little girl with Iniko’s eyes. There would be no sons. Iniko had made her death bed, and he’d make sure she’d lie in it. When he killed her, then his magic would return to him. He’d have all the power he needed to become the one eternal vessel for the Guhruhi. He could return to his father’s trokosi shrine and rebuild it as a magical center of power.

  “Make the girl your trokosi slave wife now.” The Guhruhi writhed, making Kuumba’s muscles contract and expand as it slithered underneath his skin, causing him stinging pain.

  “We must drink of this magic.”

  Kuumba’s head swam with anxiousness. A bright light in the darkness of the night headed his way. He heard a feminine war cry and was struck by an instant reconnection. The mate bond flared, and he found himself lulled into a calmness he hadn’t felt in years.

  Iniko’s essence washed over him, and for several seconds, the spidery tentacles of the Guhruhi engulfing him like choking cords withered back, losing the hold that it had over his body, mind and soul. For the first time, he opened to her emotions. He knew this was a misunderstanding. He wanted to forgive her and shed the evil by walking into the bright light that was Iniko’s love. The misty mass of the Guhruhi slid up to his brain and caused it to swell, sending searing pain throughout the inside of his body. The Guhruhi would not be so easily replaced. Kuumba grabbed his head and dropped down as blood leaked from his nose.

  “We must have that magic. Kill her so we may suckle and savor the end.” The Guhruhi slithered and burned.

  Kuumba was torn. He wanted all of his magic, but he doubted what he’d believed about his wife’s treachery. As Iniko drew closer, he watched her mow down his Obayifo slavers, and for a moment he wished for her to kill him so she could live her life in peace.

  The Guhruhi took possession of him, violently. Kuumba was no longer in control. He watched from the recesses of his mind as the Guhruhi stood up, called forth air magic and blasted Iniko into a nearby mud hut, crushing her battered form underneath the structure. The Guhruhi held his head back, allowed the elongated teeth to drop down and laughed deep from his belly.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Mawu

  Mawu tossed in her cosmic slumber. Her daughter was in trouble. She tried to awaken, but the spell would not be broken. She must remain in the universe’s dream state for three hundred years to replenish the magic. She was trapped until a young priestess in the new lands reawakened her.

  But Mawu had other abilities in this dream state. She could pull souls from the earth realm while they slept, if they shared in her magic. She crept into her daughter’s comatose mind and pulled her soul into the dream realm.

  Mawu wept. Her child was beautiful! Iniko carried her war sword like Tyr, Norse god of justice who once touched Mawu with hands strong and sensitive. She’d grown, but had suffered.

  Mawu whispered and kissed her child’s forehead. “My sweet daughter. I have come to help you.”

  “But Great Mother, I am nothing. I have no magic but that which has been shared with me by my evil husband.”

  Mawu hesitated. “Is that what you think?”

  Mawu’s heart splintered. She’d given up her infant daughter as she’d fallen into her magic-induced slumber. Of course, Iniko had no idea who she was. A piece of her prophetic dream came barreling back into her memory. Mawu saw her child’s destiny. Her insides threatened to collapse.

  Iniko would suffer a terrible injustice at the hands of the Guhruhi, and would be forced to make a choice that would determine the fate of this universe. To make matters worse, if Mawu unbound any of Iniko’s magical abilities, then the balance of the universe would favor the Guhruhi for the next three hundred years.

  Mawu sobbed inside. “No, child. You are my daughter. Your husband is bound to your magic.”

  Iniko paused. “I... I don’t understand. My mother abandoned me at birth. I have no ancestors, no elders, and no roots.”

  Mawu wanted to hold her daughter. “No. You are descended from my family’s greatness. You have a strong lineage of courage and justice.”

  Iniko asked. “Then why was I given away? Did you or my father not love me?”

  Mawu understood the weight of her decision to save the universe had taken a toll. “No, child. You were loved, but I made a sacrifice to save our universe from evil.”

  Mawu watched the conflict of emotions within Iniko’s eyes, but she also sensed that another critical choice had to be made—soon. She could unbind some of her daughter’s magic and share the truth, or allow her sweet baba to die and curtail the evil that was coming. She left her daughter in the dream world to make a plea.

  Mawu cried, “Nana Buluku, I cannot allow my only child to perish.”

  Nana Buluku whispered faintly, “The choice is yours. You are the sole protector of this universe.”

  Mawu allowed tears to stream down her face.

  “Once the choice has been made to unbind her magic, you will not be able to stop it. Your daughter’s heart and mind will be lost to you. She will choose and be changed forever.”

  “No,” Mawu whispered. “There must be another way.”

  “There is only good or evil.” Nana Buluku’s voice faded.

  Mawu refused to allow this ancient battle to steal her child’s life. She returned to her confused daughter. “My sweet baba, you must return now. Know that you have always been loved.”

  She touched Iniko’s mind’s eye and planted the Adinkra symbol of a swirled bird inside her soul. “Sankofa, go bac
k to fetch it” were ritual words to inoculate her child from her future choices, and to unbind only Iniko’s earth and air magic.

  “Remember, daughter, you can choose to drink from the golden gourd of light, even when darkness seems to prevail.”

  Mawu watched Iniko’s aura change from gold to deep rouge as the released African elemental magic awakened. Mawu wept as she hugged her daughter then pushed Iniko’s soul back. She watched her daughter slowly disappear from the vastness of the cosmic dream world. Her heart was saddened by what would come to pass, and frustrated at her inability to prevent it all. Even a powerful goddess could not foresee the final end to this.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Iniko

  Iniko’s soul popped into place. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She was buried under debris and was pinned but held back screams. Her inner awareness slammed into her mind as she came to the realization that she was not powerless. She had magic, her own magic. And, she was the true daughter of the goddess, Mawu.

  Memories flooded her mind of the time when Kuumba showed her the secrets of how he wielded magic. She mimicked his movements and focused on allowing the magic to radiate throughout her system. An earth tremor made her body shudder. A bright light unfolded from inside the center of her belly and spiraled into a blossom like a hibiscus flower. From underneath the rubble, she began to control the earth with her mind. The moment was frighteningly euphoric, and she smiled inwardly when she realized the seduction of powerful magic.

  Finally, she stood tall as a beacon of good in the middle of the battle-torn village, surrounded by decimated clay huts and broken dreams. The moon beamed as the night air hugged her body. She took her first breath as a goddess calling forth her Akofena war sword and dagger to her hands. The Obayifo-infected slavers made howling noises. Iniko sensed they were attracted to her powerful magic. She didn’t care about them; all she cared about was saving Zawadi. She fixed her mind on her daughter and wished her feet to move with the speed of a warrior goddess.