Him. The guy who was struggling to match up to my stride, and calling out my name, 'Maia! Maia wait up!' His voice seemed to be carried by the wind. With my focus on the dirt path, I matched forward headed towards my shared dormitory room. I needed to get away from the scorching sun, the monsters I'd left behind and those that seemed to always follow me. Away from him. I needed to clean away the shame, the blood.
Moments later would find me seated on my bed and sharpening my hunga munga throwing knife blades. Known for their wide use in Central African antiquity, it became my special weapon. Everyone had a weapon of their choosing. Aside from theoretical classes of scripture, reading and writing of ancient and not-so-ancient languages and runes, and partaking in rituals, we learnt combat. Master the body, master the mind. The art of blade sharpening especially for such a knife was vital in that every grain embedded within the steel had a part to play in its lethalness. Every blade, any just one of the total three to five, would cause one to make or forego a kill. We were hunters. Combatants and hunters. I wondered what the ancient tribes of Central Africa thought of it. Many African civilizations are known for their ideologies that center on communal ties. Did the blades represent family or society or a group of closely-knit people who strived to achieve a collective goal? A collective consciousness and the great energies that would be harnessed from the spilling of blood? I found my eyes following the path the sharpening stone took as it caressed the blades. It had four of them. The sound they produced as the surfaces came together lingered for what seemed like an eternity, almost as if the blades were spilling secrets of war to the sharpening tool.
Like a dance that produced sparks whenever they gained contact. What would have taken someone else minutes, took me hours. It was love, music to my ears, it was peace and calm. The calm after the storm. My storm, my demons. My love. They were sharp, I didn't have to feel to know. Yet, I still did. I traced my fingers along the sharpened shaft lacerating the white of my skin but not bloodying it. My hands had turned hard from war. They whispered to me, 'Enough!' Found those words re-iterating, and I then released a long breath that I had been holding. Fighting my straying thoughts. Him. I'd closed the door shut behind me, almost hitting him when I came in. Took off my bloodied combat gear, went into the shower and cried my eyes out in the background noise of raging showers. I released another breath I had been holding, it left me with a cold breeze down my spine and I shuddered. Him. His rough dark skin, his beautiful eyes. Him. His touch on my skin, his seemingly strong arms, sweet water-like breath. By this time, I hadn't noticed my grip on the blade I'd been previously fingering had gotten tighter. It's what he did to me. Him. My friend, my savior, my oblivious human love, and the demon I couldn't kill. My demon. My weakness. 'I will never transcend.' Followed a defeated whisper. I saw the blood from my palms drip and I felt pain. Not really from the wounds but from the day's defeat. My heart slowly detached itself from the anchor it had been tethered to and climbed up my throat. I sobbed quietly. Soon, my roommate would be back. I can't show anyone that I am weak. Not after my secret had been so greatly exposed.
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The day had started off with excitement and laughter everywhere. The mood in the air was that of great things to come. This day was to be the defining moment for each and every student who was to be initiated. Initiation meant transcendence. It's purpose was to choose who was worthy enough to have the transcendent place come to them, and they to it. I was among this group. We'd all assembled at the Great Hall of Justice, the biggest hall in the institution. It was where we assembled during emergencies. Otherwise, the institution wouldn't have females and males interact often.
An arrangement that saw we remained chaste and therefore keeping away demons of lust which are thought to be the most stubborn once they attached themselves to a host. Stubborn beacons that attracted more of its kind. Sexual sin is one of those that come in varieties. 'Lust, Pride and Wrath walk hand in hand,' one of the less clever sayings our teachers reiterated ever so often. The hall was rightly named as this was where students would receive their punishments had they committed heinous offences. The Great Hall of Justice had to be the most feared place in the institution with the Council of Elders being judge, jury and executioner. Although execution of students was forbidden, punishments which were administered could as well be equated to execution. Weeks of deprivation of food in solitary confinement, public flogging, and many others but the worst had to be being sent to the nether realm. In this place, one had to face their demons and fears through a forced Out of Body Experience (OBE). The overseeing Priest would have you placed in a hypnotic trance while your arms and feet were tied to bedposts. Not many students survived this. The body was anointed with holy oil and the room from which the ritual took place was sanctified by holy water and the holy flame, so as to curb straying demons from possessing the soulless body as its spirit departed to the nether realm. Many other spells and rituals had to be conducted to ward off foreign spirits that weren't demons from coming back to life through the body of the one being punished.
Many students did not survive the nether realm. Nevertheless, for such instances, they, they being those who called for the punishment, would deem it to be a necessary evil. Just like that, they'd wash their hands off the death of a student. Many of us who held little to no power had no say in the matter. Those who did survive were celebrated but seemed to act differently. They became withdrawn. None of them spoke of their experiences. Many times, they were placed under the care of a guidance and counsellor. Understand that having the council of Elders before you was the last stage where a student who'd committed the worst of offences was taken. Bullying, murder, practicing evil magic for the purpose of revenge or to harm others just because you could, and conjuring of demons.
Killing of animals was not tolerated either. Only demons could be subjected to slaughter. Even though demons still come back to life, slaying their bodies would disable them or at least fend them off for a while. It was done before banishing. Demons morph between their spiritual and physical beings with ease, this ability is what enables them to regenerate and come to, just as angels.