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Chapter 3 Rituals

Word Count: 1682    |    Released on: 01/06/2022

Monama recognized. He saw Fonati sitting on a large wooden chair, flanked by two of his eldest sons. He marveled at how much the boys had changed. Fonaya had a hard edge carved int

int smile on his lips as always but there was also an underlying wariness in

d and saw him. He smiled broadly, beckoning to him and Monama walked to where his brother sat. the man was wearing a dark blue, sleeveless jalabiya made of spidersilk, one of the most expensive materials in the entire kingdom and he wore loose trousers that tapered together at the ankle. Monama bowed slightly to him and th

carrying her own chair and she wore her anklet this time. She hugged her brothers and Monama, ignoring her mother’s scowl and she sat down, a broad smile on her face. Monama saw the young man standing with the others of his age, towering above them, his green eyes looking around with obvio

or his northern king.” Juni said without turning to look at him. Fonati muttered something and sighed but she ignored hi

for help as always. It’s funny how you remember your family onl

saw it all. His word equaled that of the chief in normal matters and was even superior to his in religious matters but during time of war, he was not allowed to meddle in military decisions or affairs except giving blessings. He came in

r pulling a goat behind him and carrying a tuber of yam in his other hand. A hush fell on the crowd that had gathered as he came to the fire and raised his staff, stabbing into the ground with impressive strength. He shrieked loudly and began to dance around the flame, moving in a fluid, graceful pattern, like a leaf blown in a soft wind. This was contrasted sharply by th

ng up until his movements were broken but nonetheless impressive. He made a turn around where he had stabbed his spear into the ground and he stopped abruptly, his wild chants reducing to a whisper. He stretched out his hand and one of his apprentices handed him the dagger. He turned it, waving it in the air for a while then he made a quick signal with

an Ngapa who was averse to killing an animal. He had also not seen an Ngapa that was a harnessed healing before this time so he shrugged, maybe it affected th

to the fire, his eyes aflame with the brightness. He threw the entire contents of the bowl into the fire, screaming. Almost immediately, everyone present fell flat to the floor, except Fonati and the otuko who stood staring at the flames, their faces hard, cold, reverence in their eyes. the otuko star

inging a cheer from the people. He turned and walked back to where he sat as servants carrying pots of food and large jugs of sky and palm wines flooded the compound. He clasped h

t was called the dead face and was drilled into every Ngapa boy by their father or trainer until it came instinctively. It wa

or carved into the wall. They came out into a field of grass and they continued walking, stopping occasionally as Fonati whispered prayers and praises to the night spirit. They walked for a long while and Monama remembered when the time he too was

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