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"oh ye children of Npunga, so long have you been in the dark, so long have you drink your brethren blood, so long have you eaten each other's flesh, and now your darkness seems like light to you, your left hand has become right…. However, your nobility can't be stale forever. Before you today is a man who have plot against his own people, before you today is a deluded man who thought he could rule Cygon through the oppression of the five kingdoms. Greedy are the ways of the lost one who made a prince kill his king, his blood father; greedy are the ways of the envious one who want to corrupt the lands…."
the four sages have spoken, Ghandaa kneeling in before them in the middle. Dreeda and the priestess with the help of Npunga warriors have carried the lifeless body of Jhanka to the groove of the priestess where she set off to work on the patient. She grinds mixed fresh herbs in a calabash, and poured from a gourd vine a blackish concoction into the blend and mix it together thoroughly till it foams.
With the help of Dreeda she forced some of it down Jhankas throat. Next she drunk from the vine gourd, and use the concoction to rinse her mouth till it foams. The spit it out onto around the wound, after which she applied the mashed herbs carefully around the injury where the spear was still buried firmly.
She can't remove it now; the man will die instantly from loss of blood. It will take days or weeks for the spear to lose its grip and start sagging, quite easy to remove.
Dreeda focused her mind on the mantras and chanting of the priestess as she worked on Jhanka, and she felt her nerves begin to relax; perhaps, it's the sweet scented dried burning herbs doing the magic on her senses, she couldn't tell which.
After stabilizing Jhanka, the priestess walks back to the square leaving Dreeda behind to take charge of the patient. "where is louga?" she asked glaring at Ghandaa with red puffy eyes…. "many a web did you weave, so match corruption has you spread, tell me now where louga is? Is he dead; have you killed him? tell me now before I slit your throat." She said drawing out a sharp dagger from the side pocket of her long black gown. "I don't know.
The priestess read the man for a while; she could tell he is telling the truth…. She signals some off Ghandaa own men to shackled their wayward leader and bring him to one of her many caves…. And the sages follow suite. When they reached the cave, the soldiers retreated while the four sages and the priestess proceeded with the prison down a dark tunnel with many convoluted turns, ten or more. Ghandaa couldn't tell, terror ravage his heart, and his breath loses its normal rhythm.
what are they doing to him? Its seem like his feet was commanded to keep walking although his mind scream to stopped and run back out of this place…. Finally, they arrived at an opening, where they have to stoop low to enter.
They stepped back and push Ghandaa inside, after which they slide the big boulder by the side of the entrance to seal the entrance completely. Technically they have buried the man alive; a fair price to pay for all his diabolic ways.
.......
"they are coming! The lost tribes of Cygon are coming, to take over the rule of Cygon…. They despise the white one, they are chiseling through the great wall, they are hacking it away piece by piece…" Jhanka was mammering in his sleep on the fourth day. The spear has been removed, and the man is now fighting his worse fears in his feverish delirium.
Fighting the lingering death at every turn, sweating profusely. He coughed out blood every now and then. There are nights Dreeda didn't sleep at all; for the fear of losing the man to one of his feverish escape, nights she did lay on top of him, battle and struggle with him to keep him still, all the while chanting the soothing mantras she did learn from the priestess to lure him into a slumber.
Dreeda dipped the wet soft cotton cloth in the herbs soaked in lukewarm water, removed and squeeze it gently enough to soak the sensitive skin of the unconscious man when used to wipe him. naturally she felt optimistic about the recovery of Jhanka, and being there for him meant so much to her, the man seems like an extension of her now, she needs him alive.
Experientially, Dreedas life in the vine grove felt rich and intense, she felt like a simply thriving organism, a part of an ecosystem… she had learnt so much in a short span of time in this place than she had learnt in a life span.
Learning the art of using herbs to restore life, how to communicate and interact with the life force; potent in the herb, submitting the lower energies to the higher ones to take charge, to ignite the life force purposefully. And kaya, the chief priestess infuses into her this knowledge without any verbal instruction.
The herbs have their own subtle language, and the very shape of an herb, its pigment, whether it's a male or female, its smell and taste, its family, class and breed, its root, brunch, leaves and flowers up to the seed, all have a special role and level of potency. A harmless herb used in a wrong way can turned deadly, if wrongly mixed, it could turn poisonous. And some of the herbs are so shy the want you to cajole and croon them when plugging and they despise hastiness; at least a majority. some have special people they resonate with, like a woman; is she pregnant or a virgin? Is she menstruating. A child or man, and the list goes on.
Quite fascinating even was the obvious recovery of Jhanka by the use of herbs that were already grown in the vine grove, Dreeda watch as the priestess extract the gel from aloe vera, which she mixed with another grinded leave (akorkor te), before applying it to the wound on Jhankas chest. The woman was not only healing Jhanka, but Dreeda as well, physically and mentally. Dreeda found her emaciated body start to blossom and glow, bringing out a peculiar beauty within her; and the handmade cotton gown the priestess gave her fit her figure perfectly.
All these changes filled her with awe; the warriors that submitted to her on the first day they arrived at Npunga treats her as royalty. They hunt for her and the take her on tour to see the vastness of the Npunga lands and tribes. The land spreads wide and vast, rich and fertile but There were no farms. Not that they ever venture very far; on mountain peaks, the use other far away mountains to show Dreeda. Meat is the main diet, and they don't care about the kind of meat…
One time Dreeda asked the old priestess about some drawings in some of the caves she had visited with the Npunga guards. "old mother what is the meaning of those images on the cave walls" she had asked "you mean the accursed painting of the Npunga eating the flesh of the vanquished any and taking no prisoners?" she retort and Dreeda nodded.
"it happened more than ten thousand years ago or more, no one could really tell, but it gave rise to the curse that had befallen Npunga to this day, and all nobility left them. They had eaten the flesh of fellow brothers from among the other tribes of Cygon in the great battle between four kingdoms excluding kumta. Actually kumta had intervene to bring peace among the tribes. But Npunga had never been the same afterwards. It started with draught and famine; then Cannibalism followed, now the ravage each other, then the neighbor cook his neighbor's carcass for supper. It's really awful white one, and I need not relate to thee this tales". That's why your advent is a symbol of hope for them.
........
A new sense of awakening had dawn on Npunga; the nobility of the savages was returning back to them, they can't wait to have their new ruler on the throne, the veil has been lifted, the blindfold removed…. No more human slaughter, and human sacrifice, no more cannibalism, although thirty percent of the tribe that are living far away from the central point still indulged in such acts.
Within two full moon cycles on a full moon night, the priestess left the grove to her cave not very far from where Dreeda and Jhanka were residing. By now Jhanka was fully recovering, and have started eating, putting on flesh on his tall bony figure.
For some reason, he avoided looking at Dreeda in the face, and Dreeda didn't understand why…. She tried to have access to his mind, but found out the man was resisting her intrusion. If she speaks to him he seldom replies. He acts evasive most of the time.
frustrated by the changes in the man, Dreeda drew a wall of her own, but found her inner world turning into a battle ground of conflicting thoughts and emotions, her old virtues dissolving, paving way for nocturnal vices to sprout and took root in her heart.
Her heightens senses instead of strengthening her resolve, turned to unleash sensual cravings, and her dreams of fire turn to dreams of red hot passion and romance. Constantly turned on, capricious and wanton. Forgone on this lewd path to turned back now. And Jhanka is the one who planted this forbidden at the pit of her stomach. Looking at him now she wondered what is going on through his mind.
..........
"they are coming they are coming, more blood spill, a thrill for the savage kill. Breaking through the wall of steel, the lost tribes will, smelling of hell. The threat is real, in my dreams do I see them smile a crooked smile.
A void in my heart I have to fill, like the pain in my soul that is yet to heal, a feeling fulfilled in full circle unfolding a riddle still; aren't we all thieves waiting for a chance to steal? oh! I wish there is no self, no self to kill, no self to heal, no self to stay still.
I use the I as if it's all mine, albeit; there is no me before the I but us…. So when I kill the opponent a part of me die with them, an extension of myself crumbling beneath my feet, a distress I rather not seek, as the children weep and I weep with them"
After speaking this words Jhanka stood up, and Dreeda rushed to support him to stand straight. "I want to sit outside the grove, to have access to the moonlight, I must be cleansing under the borrowed light of the moon from the sun, a transformed energy that heals he who seeks in the night" Jhanka said as Dreeda held on to him, and helped him get out of the grove into the moonlight.
They sat on the soft grass holding hands, "will you like to tell me your name now, oh stranger?" Dreeda asked the quite man; Jhanka looked at her for the first time since he regain consciousness. This is a question no one had ever ask Jhanka before, so he didn't know how to answer….
Being the prince of Zanka had made him a popular figure across the lands, people know him before he ever meets with them…so to have this woman asked him, made him feel weird, for Jhanka had never pronounce his own name; also, his subjects never called him by name ever since he was a kid…. For the first time in his life he feels like a person and not a tittle. So he responded thus;
"I have no name, for I am the I in fullness, I am the storm and the rain when it breath, like the wing when it moves, I am life embodied in the physical, where all life forms rapture and diminishes, every breath I take, I sincerely give back, and I take nothing back.
Everyone represent I; we take a look around and see everyone and everything except ourselves, because being the I means one is everything, the I dies and renews in the now, and when I kill in battle, it's part of the I that is moving from one form to another.
oh! White one thou know my name in thou heart not in words but impressions and emotions my very presence invoke in thine heart, as the impression thou very imminence awaken in mine, I see you and feel the manifestation of the I in the feminine more profound, I know you not by name but by the same breath we all breathe" Jhanka answered Dreeda, all the while locking gazes with her.
The man is surely confusing but Dreeda was catching on quick, he speaks in riddles yet make so much sense, he gives so much depth, and dimensions to his spoken word, but seems not to have spoken at all, the way he viewed life was totally different from anything she had ever encountered…. At least he is opening up to her again, and she appreciates that very much.
"my name is Dreeda… thank you for being there for me all this while, Mr. wing or whatever you wished to be called" Dreeda said grinning and Jhanka smiled back "oh! My precious moonstone, thou can call me wing, if it pleases thine, for the wing has no form, it can only be felt, same way I want to be felt, not to be seen or heard, the wing is the closes thing in form I can chose as my name"
Dreeda could feel the profound connection she had with the man, she felt like she had hit a gold mine all to herself. No one have ever come this close to knowing the man like she did… its strange for her to be feeling that way but the man seems like a virgin… no like a baby will be the right term.
Yes, a baby that is older than time itself…. She looked back at her life and how far she had come, so much have happen in the past few months than all her lifetime adventure put together. Whatever the future holds she can't tell, she will only be a fool not to walk under this man's shadow.
She stood up and went into the den to bring a cloth and the spicy aromatic herbal ointment for them to shroud themselves from the night breeze and to ward off stinking insects. She came back out and sat beside Jhanka and extend the large handmade cloth to cover them both.
She then leans on to him beneath his shoulder to cuddle. Resting her head on the left side of his rib cage, his heart drumming into her ears. She wrapped her hands around his waist, and it felt so perfect and natural….. there are two lost souls falling into an empty void, a terrain none of them can quite fathom entirely…. In her mind's eye one thing was very clear to Dreeda, and that is; she is never leaving the side of this eccentric man.
Jhanka looked down at Dreedas hair as it reflects the moonlight and gives off a bright gold luster; his nostrils were so close to her hair he could smell it, an elusive lingering smell, so faint it was barely noticeable.
her aura was a different matter entirely, it smelled of her arousal, same reason why he had been avoiding her. Because an aphrodisiac this potent can put a man in trouble. The more she is turned on, the more his groin aches, and Jhanka have to muster all his feeble energies to restrain himself from pouncing on the woman by accident.
Looking down at her blond hair as it reflected the moonlight and gave off a golden luster, teleported his mind to the image of Zanka on a full moon night. He sees it now, it's the image of Zanka on a full moon night, the very essence of Zanka is here in the woman, the signs are clear, she is the moonstone of Zanka.
...…