Genesia sat there on the walnut desk, cross-legged, while Neosa paced around the oval-shaped room of Masters. His eyes were closed, submerged in patient meditation. Her eyes were open, exposed in impatient alertness. His silver crescent earrings sparkled. Her gold hoop earrings shined.
She looked out of the clear windows to see Captains Brehnt and Haanah, sitting by the courtyard with Admiral Ayanda and Emperor Ehit. The warriors looked like the textbook example of friends that were enemies as they clasped hands and spoke with cold glares and hot smiles. Rivals that would kill one another if they absolutely had to, but rivals that sought not to kill each other given the respect that had been earned on both sides.
New recruits had been summoned from Membus on Ramela's orders, a special task force that used to be part of Ramsis and Xantris's regime. Emissary Shakir, a Gypti man, and Agent Xolani, a Xoxo woman, were the two standout leaders of the task force who were due to arrive soon.
Neosa doubted they would be on friendly terms right from the jump with Ayanda and Ehit. Conflict was bound to ensue. Hell, the entire month had been a waiting game of conflict, like the audience waiting for the punchline to a fucked up joke, as Ramoth put it. Everyone in Chanco was on edge. Waiting
for some explosion to go off, some spark to alight in preparation for Genesia and Neosa's fight to kick off.
Before Papa and Ramsis make their way here. I suppose they're sightseeing first, mustering up the courage to face us and the populus. I wouldn't be surprised if they're passing by Mount Killes. Neosa chewed on gum, blowing and popping bubbles every few minutes or so.
She saw Naana and Kwakuu conversing as they sat in the courtyard, exchanging notes for constructive criticism purposes concerning their duties on their respective sides. They looked so serious, so devoted, working towards common goals. A meeting of loyalty that didn't just stay loyal to their masters, but to their province. The quintessential servants.
If only the East and the West could do the same like them. Neosa continued to pace around. It was all she could do as a means to keep her active brain contained in the midst of its over-saturated period of processing that Neo was struggling to compartmentalize. Sometimes she wished she could sit still like her brother. But that's boring. Lazy bum.
She heard Genesia grunt with his eyes closed, a fragment of a smile forming on his lips. "At least you can sleep like an inactive rock sometimes. I've never understood how you do that, even back when we were in the womb. Except whenever you slapped and kicked me for no reason."
"No reason? It was because you kept moving around like a fish out of water, disrupting my sleep. Besides, I'm in the same boat as you now. I can't sleep for shit nowadays. It's as though I've become a volcano that is active all the time, day and night."
"I would say welcome to my sleepless world, but..." He winced. We welcomed ourselves into this world, didn't we? Gene sighed, as did Genesia, thinking about the last Impulse dream his twin had with Pharaoh.
Neosa popped a bubble and chewed. She didn't want to think about that monster. She picked up a random potted plant, turning it from right to left, setting it down and pacing again. She let her fingers touch a canvas that depicted scenes of her triumph in Numbe. The painting showed Morena Neosa at the top of a watchtower, raising one finger above her head as the freed Shonas chanted her name, becoming members of the Ones of Neo.
"Why must you pour sorrow over us like oil? Aaaah," she berated him, sucking her teeth and shaking the tremors out of her hands. Now she couldn't stop thinking about Pharaoh and his demoralizing barrage of questions that ripped her tongue out.
"So that you can glitter us with merriment, obviously. You're doing quite the shitty job if I say so myself. Zero marks." Genesia aimed a lethal shot at her piss poor performance, cracking his fingers methodically.
"Zero?" Neosa looked outright baffled. She pointed at his lips. "What about that little smile? One mark at least."
"That smile was from subtracting that one mark to give you zero." Genesia cracked a larger smile.
Neosa stopped pacing abruptly. "Gene, what's wrong with you? Are you..." She approached her twin, licked her thumb and started rubbing his cheek as though she was removing dirt from his face. "Oh... askies, askies, askies. Don't worry. If you pray hard enough, someone will come and fix you." She patted him on the head like a well trained pet. "Want a biscuit? Here boy." She whistled and waved an invisible biscuit around in her hand.
Genesia kept his eyes closed, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. He could see the grin that was growing on her face as clear as day. "I'm tempted to give you minus one. You're on thin ice girl."
"There's no ice here. It melts before it has a chance to freeze properly."
"My point exactly. You're on water, which misses the frozen criteria that only I can solidify in this weather."
"So is this a pointless hit or a miss that pointed off the mark?"
Genesia thought that over. "No comment at this time, please wait while I consider your complaint for review."
"Ah,ah. For how long?"
He kept quiet. "Einaaaa." Until he complained like a confused customer.
She flicked his right eye harshly, on the verge of pushing his eyeball right into his skull. "Was that sore or are you exaggerating?"
Genesia let his left eye slip open, waiting for the soreness in his right eye to fade. Instead of answering, he poked her left eye harshly like pointed graphite. "Sore?" He asked.
"Ticklish." She giggled roughly and rubbed her left eye, blinking at a fast rate to dry out the attack.
Genesia's right eye opened fully. Well that's nerve-wracking.
The twins had been sizing each other up in several ways, physical, mental, and spiritual, seeing where they stood from a comparative lense, analysing their respective strengths and weaknesses before reaching a concrete conclusion.
There was none.
They genuinely had no idea who the fuck was stronger. No one knew, not even their mother, which made things more exciting.
They weren't kidding themselves though. War would still come, one way or another, regardless of who won or who lost the fight.
If anything, this was more a personal curiosity, akin to a race between siblings to see who was faster. Yes it was advertised as a winner takes all event.
But look how Kakara and Kaikara's fight turned out. Genesia considered. The war for Kimba didn't suddenly stop. If anything it got worse. It was the excuse, the catalyst, the spark for more mayhem, the tools upon which the aggrieved could pick from their bloodied sheds.
Their gazes joined together. They nodded, signing a tacit agreement that contained the pieces of information they would reveal to Ramela, Ramoth, Ramiya and Musa from their Impulse dream. Some things would be restrained for safekeeping purposes and phrased in ways that weren't necessarily hidden, but rather covered like curtains across windows that shielded the room from seeing the full picture, waiting for the scenes to be unveiled at the appropriate time in order to shed light over the unknown that would soon be known.
The oak doors opened. Ramoth was the first to make his appearance, yawning loudly as though he had to make his disdain of slumber audible. He shook his wavy hair, walked in like a drunkard and reached his hands out for Neosa with his eyes closed.
"Neokie, you've blinded me. Where are you?"
Neosa blinked at him. "Cold."
Ramoth stopped, taking an uncertain step towards her.
"Warm."
Another step. He sniffed like a scavenger, smelling her rich fragrance.
"Warmer."
He jumped.
"Hot."
His eyes opened and his smirk rose as he held her chin and kissed her. "Hottest," he complimented.
Neosa despised how easy it was for the clown to make her face heat up like that. What she didn't detest were his kisses. "Not hot enough." She showed a winsome smile, about to go for another one when—
Genesia coughed and cleared his throat politely.
Ramoth looked at him strangely for an uncomfortable amount of time. Without any regard for personal space whatsoever, he got up on the desk, hooked his arm around Genesia and held his chin. "Dry throat Genie? You want a kiss to soothe it?"
Genesia didn't trust himself to speak because he couldn't. His tongue got stuck in quicksand when his instincts assembled the necessary forces of resistance. To compensate, he widened and darkened his eyes that became black pools, deep enough to seduce a firefly into drowning.
Ramoth retreated and hid behind Neosa, holding onto her like a raft that kept him afloat above water. "Neokie, w-w-hy does Genie hate me? W-w-hy does he want me to sink? W-w-hy won't he accept my brotherly affection? F-f-fiend!"
"Do you kiss Musa on the lips?" Genesia managed to ask, allowing the blackness in his eyes to lessen. How the fuck do you deal with this man, Musa? How the hell do you deal with your man, Neo?
"Of course not." Ramoth looked offended, storming back to the desk, slamming his hands down and waving his hand at Genesia's face as if it was his fault. "But you're different. Can you blame me when you look just like my Neokie?"
"I certainly don't when she looks just like my Genie."
Neosa had been so focused on Ramoth's tomfoolery that she couldn't react quick enough to remove Ramela's slithering hand that caressed her face. She was trapped in her possessive gaze, a gaze that went down to her lips.
"Well? It's just a sisterly kiss. How long do you intend to avoid me?" Ramela asked, already knowing the answer and playing along anyway for the fuck of it.
"As long as possible," Neosa spoke through her teeth, unable to remove Ramela's glued hand on her face as though it was sticky paper that would strip away her flesh. Instead, she brightened her eyes enough to dazzle an inflammable butterfly on sight like burning embers. Gene, your woman is too much. Back up haow! How did Ramiya manage with you when you're this overbearing?
Ramela covered her eyes with her left hand as she moved back, placing her right hand on her breast and making a wounded sound. "I'm tremendously hurt. So is your niece."
Neosa gave her an insulted look. "No she's not." She placed her ear by Ramela's belly, increasing her hearing to seep through the womb. "She's happy to hear her Aunty's voice. Neh Esse?"
"Is she really?" Ramela asked, regarding Genesia intensely.
Ramoth glanced over his shoulder, meeting Neosa's eyes. "I saw something." He tapped the eye of Ramoth. The tattoo markings around his left eye were activated, making the hyena's eye, the serpent's spiral and the rain's teardrop glisten.
"As did I." The tattoo markings of the eye of Ramela were active as well. Around her right eye, the lioness's eye, the serpent's spiral and the rain's teardrop glistened.
Genesia and Neosa exchanged looks. "What did you see from what we saw in our Impulse dream?" They asked.
"That's the thing, we can't remember," Ramela and Ramoth said.
Ramela patted her hand over her sister-in-law's, adding to Essenia's protection. She walked towards Genesia, propping herself on the desk to sit next to him, flicking her wavy hair.
"Think of a dream. A dream where the memories of said dream disappear upon awakening," she said poignantly before leaning in to plant a deep kiss on his lips. "A dream where my memory of you was just... gone, as if you never came into existence."
"A dream you forget the second you wake up. You know that you saw things in the dream. You just can't remember what the fuck you saw." Ramoth had crafted fire on one of Genesia's dreadlocks absentmindedly.
Genesia snuffed it out before it could spread, not bothering to show irritation, given how he could never avoid his brother-in-law's antics. His feelings towards Ramoth were mixed, to say the least. He couldn't really judge him either like the cover of a book, or the pages of a book since Ramoth would either change the cover, or change the pages of the book for the fun of it, keeping Genesia guessing at all times, rarely able to get an accurate read on him and his thought process that was so jarring and sporadic it frankly made his head dizzy as though he was an alcoholic.
Genesia frowned. Remember me, Geney. Gene replayed his daughter's request, letting it inhale and exhale in his disorientated head like a pair of lungs that would never stop breathing. He had to take a shuddering breath himself to reignite his regular breathing pattern.
Neosa looked troubled. Don't forget me, Neokey. Neo made sure her son's request kept burning and burning in her head, fanning the flames of remembrance to never breathe it's final breath. Her nostrils flared in the midsts of her engulfing large chunks of oxygen.
Before either could speak, Musa entered the room. Ramiya stuck to him like she was fearful of never getting to hold him again.
"Alla hi!" Ramoth spread his arms wide and struck, lifting his little sister and twirling her on the spot before putting her down. "My favorite pair of lovemambos! Moo moo! My little cow! Any news? Is my niece in there yet?"
All eyes were on her. Ramiya sighed. "Alla ho..." She nodded, albeit with a slight blush like she had been caught red handed in some scandalous affair.
"Alla ha, finally. My patience was on thin..." She tilted her head at Genesia. "You used that analogy already?"
"Ah," Genesia answered.
Ramela looked back at her sister. "My patience had run out like a tap without water. Excellent Gypti name for the firstborn." Her eyes honed in on Musa, her prized pupil, her dreamy brother. "I would have expected you to have given your first child a Shona name instead of your second. Tinashe for God's Chosen, was it?"
Musa nodded. "I was born and raised, as Gypti, before I learned, to be Shona. Names should not be confined by culture, or ethnic group." He looked pointedly at Ramela's stomach. "Or race."
"Quite right." Ramela smiled eagerly, staring at her freshly conceived niece, watching her in her current form. The ball of cells had attached itself to its mother's uterine wall to begin its embryonic stage. "Nakiah for Purity." Ramela locked onto her sister's eyes. "I'm glad. This has long been overdue."
Ramiya sat down with her hands on her lap, back upright and chin lifted. "It has." She wasn't going to deny it. Hathor's desire for a child had been nagging her to the point of frustration, like feeling a battalion of cow horns stabbing away at her uterus.
Musa rubbed his hip, thinking of how he inherited his father's hip lock. He could hear his mother laughing and shaking her head. A slight smile sprinkled over his lips.
Ramiya looked at her husband with a slight tinge of guilt and mild satisfaction, as though they had all gone back in time, like nothing had changed when everything had changed.
In all honesty, for the whole month since their unplanned marriage, concern had been spreading over Chanco like bushfires. News of the Phoenix Princess snatching their Mambo and keeping him as her sex slave had been... interesting, to say the least.
Ramoth didn't help either. He had been fanning the news himself, proclaiming the black mamba and the green mamba to be the snakes that seduced each other into sexual slavery.
Ramiya's fingers traced over the newly acquired love bites on her neck. At first, Musa wasn't so willing to give her those. It was Ramiya's request. Or rather it was her insistent demand. She didn't want to be the only one that left a mark on her husband's neck, she wanted to be marked by him as his wife, freely, to show that the snake-like bites were equal and mutual, regardless of whether they were in the East or the West, to close both halves and both cultures into one decisive whole.
The snakebites on Genesia and Neosa's necks had already healed. Unlike humans, they weren't as permanent on their Racaan skins. Which wasn't a problem for Ramela and Ramoth, since they could keep marking and puncturing Genesia and Neosa's necks with fresh, unmistakable, fang-like love bites as many times as they wanted.
"I assume Gene's diagram is complete by now, isn't it Genie?" Ramela's inquiry sliced through the mild temperature of the room. She was stroking his chin, making him purr.
Ramiya was also looking at Genesia. "Last time you said you were close."
Genesia stopped purring to speak. "I've got it all drawn out. In fact." He got down from the desk, heading straight for the drawing board on the wall for brainstorming purposes. "It'll be easier if I draw what's in my head for all of you to see."
Ramoth was massaging Neosa's renowned thighs. "This should be as good as jelly," he said as he watched her thighs jiggle like jelly.
"What does Neo have to say, Neosa?" Ramiya asked, smiling at her softly.
Neosa smiled back. She preferred talking to Ramiya than Ramela. They didn't even talk about important things. They just talked normally about small things. She felt less restrictive and less competitive in her presence. Soft as clouds, like whenever she would fly with Ramoth on his flying carpet and they would touch the clouds. She liked Ramiya's alluring amber scent too, thinking of Minaleese's eyes and Banti's fondness for amber.
Not to say that Neosa disliked Ramela. After all, she was all about competition and having her mind tested as much as her body. She wasn't a quitter, but Ramela... she just probed and squeezed too much, in a way Neosa couldn't quite explain, a way that made her consider calling for a time out.
Ramiya didn't probe or squeeze at all. Except her unmatched hand grip. Now that was quite the squeeze that made Neosa giggle. She felt in good hands with the Phoenix Princess. It was high time the Shonas of the West felt the same way.
Neosa watched Genesia draw in that speedy fashion of his. She cleared her throat, opting to narrate each relation, each branch, each connection, each network, and what it all meant. "Neo says..."
--------
Ramela's enthralled stare was more potent than ever, enough to burn through the board acidly. Her expression was that of unfiltered astonishment, puzzlement and amazement all at once. Her ears listened to Neosa while her brain absorbed the audio of her unavoidable voice.
Her hand rested on her belly, on her growing essence, who wasn't the first hybrid as she originally thought, rather she was the second hybrid to her cousin, her omega, Omphile, daughter of The Almighty Mpho and Sekai of Serenity.
Shocked was an understatement in that regard, though if anything, Ramela felt more shocked at the fact that she didn't see the likelihood of Mpho having a hybrid child before Genesia and Neosa. Why else would she deem it safe to allow her twin cousins to procreate with Ramela and Ramoth with no warnings to prohibit them?
It made her feel stupid, close minded in retrospect, which in turn brought forth a new wave of untamed curiosity that would serve to enrich her collection of knowledge and remind her mind that she did not know all, making things more fun, more invigorating like a hunt that would continuously chase after the fields of ignorance.
That was the virtue of true wisdom wasn't it? Knowing that you didn't know everything, knowing that you could have access to everything and still not be able to fully attain all matter in the palm of your hands. Knowledge was a constellation. You could gaze upon the patterns of the galaxy, but you could never truly grasp the materials of the solar system from an objective lense.
Like miracles. She thought of her daughter. Yes, in concept she and Genesia had planned her conception. It didn't take away from the fact that they both knew nothing about her, if she was possible, and furthermore, what she would mean for herself, for them, for the world, for the universe.
Like prophecies and fortunes. They are what we make them out to be. Much like reality. We are the organisms that give its construction meaning by force.
She glanced at Musa for a moment. Bāba singled you out as the Mambo of the prophecy, which forced Ramsis to make you the only Mambo that could fill that role. It could have been anyone really. Still, you, and you alone had to choose this walk yourself. You could have walked away when Ramiya offered you a way out. But like me, something kept pushing you back into the hell Bāba put us all through. Mwari's movement perhaps? Or your own? Both most likely. Funny how we choose our fate that has already been chosen for us before we were even born. Is that then an hallucination of choice like a mirage that isn't there, or an oasis of choice that is in fact there? Questions, questions, questions.
Her eyes narrowed in on the lines of the Genesia's diagram that led to Natalia, and the clear words Neosa said. Her heart was racing so fast.
Shall I move on to some answers in the meantime? Yes, solutions to my hypotheses that either hit their targets or strayed off completely. Omphile. The pleasant and much needed surprise. She is with my sweetheart. My winged niece, my lovely... cousin. Ramela thought, staring at the board like a piece of glass from the past, shards of which nearly cut her tears open for all to see. Her eyes became glassy as momentary regret manifested itself in her corroded heart.
In an ideal world, Lovouta would have been freed from poverty on her non-negotiable orders. Ramela would have spoiled her rotten. She would have given her the best education there was to offer, Ramela's personal teachings of course. She would have been her teacher, her mentor, her aunt, her cousin, her friend, whatever she wanted. She would have killed for Lovouta without hesitation if any fool dared to touch her. I did kill for her, after I ordered the deaths of...
She halted. No wonder I felt so strongly for you back then. No wonder I feel so strongly for you now. Of course. You aren't just my family by blood. You're... me. Flip a coin and you'll find me on one side and you on the other side. You're my second chance. Or am I your second chance? Samsara?
She honed in on the cyclical Hindu belief of the soul. Yes, did I say that before? Or did you say that recently? Am I repeating myself or am I repeating what you said?
Ramela used her all-seeing eye. Try as she might, she could never see Lovouta. All she saw was a shadowy silhouette with ruby eyes and Durga's red heart-shaped third eye. Hang on. But I can see your outline! You've... grown, exactly as I have grown. I was right! I should have known without even bothering to think or suspect! You're my light in the shadows! My pussycat! My Bastet!
Sekhmet growled, pleased at the prospect of having a feline rival, a feline equal that was an extreme manifestation of herself. Who was the predator and who was the prey? The question excited the goddess.
Ramela savoured her suspicions, enjoying the sweet taste that gave her a toothache. She wanted nothing more than to hold Lovouta in her arms, kiss her forehead and praise her to the moon and back. She didn't care if they were enemies. She didn't care if they were on opposing sides. She didn't care if Lovouta sought revenge. She didn't care if Lovouta hated her with every inch of her soul.
You're my lover lamp. I was right to tell Bāba to eat his own shit since the egghead bastard can't see shit. I on the other hand can at least see that you are coming along in the dark. Watching you is like a mystery. I see the hints cloaked in mistiness, enough to torment me with the glimpses I can spot out from the full picture I cannot possess at this current time.
Ramela grinned wickedly. No matter. I would have hated it if things were that easy. I'm sure you've been racking your brain over me all this time, haven't you? How could you not? I imprinted myself into you forever. Regardless of where you go, you'll always remain in my shadow that you'll eventually step out of, like my Genie does with his shining moonlight.
She produced a sound from her tongue and teeth. Aaravi, Kami, I... did good with her, given the circumstances at the very least, didn't I? I may have been responsible for ruining her life, but it would have been criminally worse if I had let her die. Then everything would have been ruined, including our... child?
That revelation concerning Essenia's natural and supernatural genetics made her eyes well up. A wave of emotion washed over her. Our birthchild and Godchild.
Ramela laid a hand on her aching heart. It was pounding so hard, circulating so much blood, throbbing with so much love for Lovouta, just as it throbbed lovingly, passionately, possessively for Genesia. The father of our child.
She couldn't describe the spectrum of emotions. She shivered with anxiety and excitement that kept on building and building and building, on the verge of a climax. I want to see you out of the darkness. I want to see you in my image.
She had to bite down on her tongue to stop herself from crying out in elation. She ordered her impending tears to dry out in the desert. Perfect Patience. Ramela reminded herself. She wiped her runny nose and closed her eyes promptly, increasing the tempo of her tapping fingers like she was playing on the drums of warfare.
"Genie, my genius." She stretched her hand out for him to hold, which he did without thinking. Ramela brought his hand to her nose, smelling his rich fragrance, feeling his body temperature that flared the signals in her brain to think coherently, to do the necessary calculations, to reinforce her plans upon plans upon plans that paved the way for her salvation out of hell. Their salvation out of hell.
Her eyes opened, becoming slit-like. She looked at Genesia, just looking, not knowing where else to look, not wanting to look anywhere else. She couldn't take her eyes off him. Why should she when he was right fucking there?
Combat to the death, my sweetheart? It's much more personal than your grievance with me for what I did to you, especially with this newfound situation. I am sure that you believe you can steal my Genie from me and take him for yourself like some jewel to be given away to feed your impoverished heart.
Ramela let out a toxic laugh. Tstha! I expected nothing less. I accept the challenge in good faith. Though I must warn you. My heart is impoverished as well, as is my Genie's. He is in no need of freeing. He is free to be with ME. He is happy to be with ME. He is in love with ME. He made love with ME. He made Essenia with ME. You would do more harm than good if you tried to rob him from ME, let alone if you tried to take my life.
She looked thoughtful for a moment, businesslike with all the leverage. I'm willing to share him, if it's with you of course. That's my condition. Sounds about right doesn't it? Essenia will need all three of her parents. However, if you think that I would simply let him go unconditionally... oh, sweetheart, I'm afraid that you still have so much to learn.
Annoyance soured her face. That wishy washy nonsense that a lover should let their love go is nothing more than a flush of diarrhea. If you really love someone, you'll do everything in your power to keep them, like how the heart is kept imprisoned in the ribcage. No one loves my Genie as much as I. How can I word it?
A serpentine smile grew on her face. Frankly speaking, I love him in every possible way. I love him like a wife loves her husband. I love him like a mother loves her son. I love him like a teacher loves her student. I love him like a sister loves her brother. I love him like a best friend loves her best friend. I love him like a gardener loves her garden. I love him like a...
Her expression shifted, arching an eyebrow as if stumbling upon something abstract. I've reached a dead end. A deceased fuckhole. That's the problem with labels. So limiting. Much like the irony of linguistics. Failing to find the appropriate terminology in any language. It just doesn't measure up to the feelings we feel and mean to express in words. The feelings that we try and fail to repress. I suppose the closest comparison would be marriage, all things considered. Marriage is more than a pledge after all. It's an essential contract. An inescapable prison.
Her eyes slid up to Genesia's contractual scar. Animals mark their territory and their mates for all to see and smell. Why hide my true nature when I can think about it for all to hear?
Her free hand touched her contractual scar on her stomach, Essenia's guarding mark. Her sensual gaze went back to his, studying his characteristics that exuded coolness. She wet her lips with her tongue, stirring her taste buds, salivating the idea of indulging in the grand feast that he represented. For all to see.
Genesia tracked her predatory eye movements the entire time, taking stock of her thoughts, her intentions, her viewpoints, her fixations, her unwillingness to have her mind swayed when it came to him and only him.
His pulse quickened. His mind blanked like he was preparing to sketch something new on paper from scratch. He looked at Ramela for a long period of time, into her, deep inside, piercingly like pointed utensils that dug into his favourite meal. His stomach grumbled. His throat dried up. Hunger. Thirst. She was making him hungry and thirsty for her.
If the universe is finite, place an infinite multiplier over it and you'll measure a fraction of my love for you. Genesia thought automatically as his eyes became heavy-lidded and provocative. So that's the solution. I see... okay, okay, okay.
He found himself offering Ramela a charming smile like a painted mask on a defensive wall that ran horizontally and vertically for endless miles across the sands, across the seas and up to the skies where nothing escaped his guarding coverage.
Preserve me, Baaba! Essenia's echoing scream made his cells crash like a failed system. A strong wintery chill blew right through him, digging into his muscles, unsettling his bones as if he was stranded in the freezing cold Sinine desert at night.
And so, Gene said, this is good, I see the freeway. And it was good, for he did see the freeway. It was very good when it was very bad, the way this was going.
Such is the binary system of things. Like unbelievable hope and believable despair. I did say that you are the light of my eye. Your plea for happiness with me will be granted as many times as you want.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo. The Mad Merm longed for the same thing when he didn't.
Genesia kept staring at Ramela silently. I couldn't... save Rosari. Not really. What I gave her was mercy so that she could return to her children and mate. I couldn't cure her in this life, not in the way she wanted originally. I refuse to let that same exact outcome happen with you, Mela. You'll see that I'm not just a man of my word. I'm a man of my wishes. And I wish for your factual preservation. Anything other than this wishful thinking, this wishful feeling, can get fucked in the head, for free.
--------
AYAAATAAAAAA! Ramoth shoved his fist in his mouth, showing remarkable restraint by not screaming on the outside. My nephew and my cousin! My angry flame in the shade! My avenger key!
He flapped his arms like hawk wings. My hawker Horus! Are you the hunter and I the hunted? Or am I still the hunter and you the hunted? Who cares right? You and I are a couple of the same single. Flip one coin, you'll see me as the head and you as the tail. Flip a card, you'll see me as the Joker and you as the Ace. Wanna catch my head so I can catch your tail?
Set was screaming his head off. No literally. The god cut off his own Joker head and threw it like a ball in the wilderness for his Ace tail to catch.
Ramoth's next endeavor was to blindfold himself with a cloth, adopting the role of an impartial judge of character. To give a correct verdict, Ramoth utilized his all-seeing eye in the realm of blindness. He saw nothing like usual. What a standard let down. No, he saw something this time! He saw a shady silhouette with gold eyes and Agni's yellow diamond-shaped third eye. The silhouette was his height like a fully grown tree from the seed of hatred he had planted.
Ramoth threw his head back, laughing happily. Or was he crying sadly, hence the blindfold? It was hard to tell, except for Neosa who could see through the blindfold and how it soaked his tears from being seen, screening their outflow with the sound of maniacal hysteria.
Unlike Ramela who brushed Kesi aside like a lost unfortunate cause, he thought about what he did to their... uncle. Another hammering punch to his horrible humour. He wanted to say sorry, but what was the point? Would Aaravi have preferred the ticking ultimatum he gave her husband? He couldn't change what he had done. All he could do was follow his mother's advice and just laugh it off perfectly like Kamilah used to. He started choking.
His chest burned for Ayata. His heart cooked in a firepit, being powdered to ash, thumping and thumping like a hyperactive songbird that wanted to fly out the ribcage.
He wanted to chuck his honeydiamond in the air as part of his circus act, catch him and rock him like a child to a standing ovation. Surely he hated him. He had to hate him. Ramoth didn't know what he would do if Ayata didn't hate him.
Actually, he did know. He would lose his shit. He would lose his damn mind. Neosa's forgiving love was one thing. He wanted Ayata's unforgiving hate! Anything else would be nothing more than a dream. Unlike Musa and Neosa, Ramoth didn't have the luxury to dream. Nightmare? That he had the finances to account for and spend recklessly. That he would gladly accept. And if Ossaro, naturally and unnaturally, had two fathers...
Splinters of despondency got stuck in Neosa's fingernails and toenails. Wires in her brain were short circuiting. She made a grimace that looked like a malfunctioning grin, going towards him before he hurt himself or she hurt herself. Doses of self-inflicted pain worked on some occasions like a high. But this wasn't the time for them to be high. They had to be low and grounded, sane of mind, secure of thought like a stable of horses.
She hushed him like a manchild, making soothing noises and combing his hair with her hands. "Aya will... come around," she said through their contract.
"Will he?" He asked.
Neosa paused. "He'll have to." Because what else could she reply with?
"That's the thing about choice, isn't it? It's nothing more than an optical illusion. It's out of our control. We aren't even in control of how Osi has three parents! Or how he's everywhere and nowhere! He's the embodiment of... chaos that doesn't conform to any laws or rules."
Ramoth ripped the blindfold off, staring up at Neosa's contractual scar as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened from her narration, as if his near breakdown was something to shove under a carpet. He smiled diabolically and hugged her nice and tight, sticking to her, letting his fingers dance along her skin.
You want to steal my Neokie like some medallion to be won? Nah ha, my honeydiamond. I don't share her with anyone, unless she wants to have her turn with one of us at a time. How's that sound? You agree? Marvelous! I'm not taking no for an answer. We can test out who makes her laugh more. Who makes her smile more. Whose love she loves more. We both know I'll be the winner anyways. I never lose. Losing? The fuck is that? Ossaro! My rise. What do you say?
No stereo.
Omphile! My omega. What do you say?
No buzz.
Mpho! My almighty. What do you say?
No thunder.
Good! The matches are lit! Now then. Ramoth cut straight to the chase and moved back to stare at Neosa like he was seeing her oozing hotness for the first time. His eyes were slit-like and flirtatious. Everything will be just fine in the end. Cause you've got me, and I've got you. Isn't that right?
Many things bounced back and forth between their gazes which served to strengthen Neosa's stubbornness. Conserve me, Maama! Ossaro's scream caused her cells to burst like bloated bladders.
Neosa gave Ramoth a ballsy stare. She didn't have to do mental acrobatics. Her mind was already made up of the materials she required to complete her objective, her mission. You keep saying that I've already saved you. But that's where you're wrong, Maro. It's easy to save you by myself. But how do you save Ramoth from yourself? That's where I come in. A War Hero saves by going to war against the unsaveable. You feel me?
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! The Crazy Merm is who she felt when she wanted to burn the feeling away.
Neosa shook Ramoth with a tinge of aggression in her grasp. I don't lie when I say this. I'm going to fucking save you like a medicinal herb. What happened to Waboragreeti won't happen to you. I'll inject my heroics into you, and you'll love it. You'll eat up my heroics, and you'll love it. You'll digest my heroics, and you'll love it. You'll love me so much that'll fully convert you into becoming a true believer in my heroism. Besides, it's more enjoyable this way, when all the odds aren't in my favour. My eye for you doesn't simply cover a tree, it stretches like a jungle that touches the skylines, the deserts and the seas.
Neosa grinned impishly, maintaining eye contact like a language of honesty. Seeing is believing? Alright. Shap. Keep your eyes peeled for when I'll make you smile and laugh from my red-hot flavour, anyway and everyway on the highway of conservation.
--------
Ramiya's wet face was buried in her hands. Musa sat still, staring at the board with transfixed eyes of limestone, enthralled by the threads and lines that had knitted their families together. He couldn't help but read all the names on his pendadent, the names he fought for, the names of his Gypti family and Shona family.
"We're family... we're all family..." Ramiya's wet face reappeared from her hands. A desperate desire to hug Lovouta and Ayata enveloped her. She hugged herself to prepare for that moment with her little cousins. Hathor could almost coddle Bastet and Horus from afar.
Ramiya sniffled and wiped her tears before seeing her eyeliner stained reflection in the mirror that looked just like her mother's tearful tracks. From Banti's tearful tracks. It all made sense. There was a difference between feeling the truth and having the truth confirmed objectively.
She looked at Genesia who smiled at her gently. From the second she saw him, she had felt something for him that was more than platonic. Something familial. And this proved it, what she had said before about her mother being the unsung hero who learned under the fastest Chieftess, too fast for her own heroics.
It was very much the same for Musa. He didn't question what he felt for Neosa from the moment he picked her up, all burnt by lightning. She was more than a good friend. More than his best warrior. More than his hero. Neosa was his sister, through and through.
Musa's stone-like expression cracked as he recalled that dreadful time, when he very nearly abandoned his mission to escape with Ramiya, Lovouta, and Ayata to Natalia. He and Ramiya didn't speak much about the past. In truth, they had been avoiding all avenues of regret and animosity, instead opting to focus on how much time they missed away from the other.
He eyed her, and she didn't shrink away. Her mouth parted, about to say something, only to tremble. What could she say after all this time? After what she almost did to him?
"What, did I say, hmm?" Ironically, a nice smile played upon his lips.
Her tears tumbled down the carpet. This was long overdue. "Oh Musa I'm—"
Musa grabbed her hand, holding it like it was a part of him, an extension of himself, of their child. "There is nothing, to apologize for, Miya. If it wasn't for you, Lovouta and Ayata, would not have escaped Metro, they would not be making names for themselves in Natalia, and Mpho would not have found them there, away from Ra-mon. You are responsible for ensuring that everything went smoothly across both provinces, amidst the... damaging winds of change."
He gripped her hand tightly like a rail on a weathered ship. "You did, what you were compelled to do. Just as I did, what I had to. Look, at us now. We are here, and they are there. We are all, where we are meant to be. We all, played our parts to perfection, as Kami would say."
His smile looked nicer, more accepting. "We were not ready to be parents, back then. The time was not right. We were young, untrained, unpolished, destined to undergo diverging paths, destined to suffer in different ways for our people. Finally, we have crossed paths once again. Finally, our paths have intertwined. Finally, I can safely say, that my dream of being together with you, has come true, and nothing, is going to turn that into a nightmare."
His expression turned into stone once again. "Not even Ra-mon. His punishment, is in my hands."
"His blood," Ramiya found herself saying like a pellet instead of like cotton. She reached for both of his hands, flipping them over and looking at his calloused palms. "Blood and water. You say that you're unable to wash the blood of your allies and enemies off your hands with water."
In an instant, a hard cloud hovered over her expression. "Wash their blood with that fucker's blood, Musa. Sever his head and don't just crack it."
That unexplainable grip of hers cracked her husband's hand bones. "Destroy it," she spat with a lethal spray of venom.
Musa's eyes grew in size like monuments. He had noticed the stormy switches here and there, a byproduct of Ramela's strict lessons and cruel teachings. He and Ramoth did bring it up once, only for Ramiya to defend her sister, stating that she could talk for herself.
You may not be Queen in title. Musa nodded, heeding her orders like the perfect soldier. But you certainly have the disposition of a Queen.
"Genesia, Neosa." He turned to them. "Prediction."
Genesia read his stony expression, giving him an in-depth stare. In all honesty, Musa felt himself stiffen incredibly, maintaining that controlled stare with the King of Generals. It was as if he was watching an oncoming tsunami that was storming towards him. Musa didn't realize he was holding his breath as though bracing himself for impact.
"It'll be like a fight to the death against a malignant serpent. Similar to Apep," Genesia said calmly, crossing his arms.
Musa's brows shot up in a delayed fashion. "His natural enemy?"
Neosa popped a bubble of her gum, looking annoyed. "For you Musa, Ra won't just defeat Apep on his way to his solar boat, he'll steal his malevolence. Not just to kill you." She stomped her left foot like she was crushing a cockroach, making the room shake and Ramiya jump. "But to leave you in ruins as you die."
Musa nodded slowly, letting that simmer, releasing his held breath and loosening his stiffness at the sound of Neosa's voice. "He'll be more dangerous, like a dragon. To be slaughtered by a jaguar. Quite the tale, to tell the children one day," he said offhandedly.
"Do you feel as strong as him? Do you think Mwari will make you as strong as him?" Ramela asked with genuine intrigue.
Musa shook his head like a statue removing rubble from its head. "No. And that, is why my movement will be stronger."
Ramela smiled like a mentor pleased with her pupil. "I still mean to test you in this game before then, Musa. More than you've already been tested."
"To craft me into your ideal King?" Musa's eyes flickered towards her.
Ramela's smile widened, winking with her right eye. "To craft you into my real King."
Ramoth pulled his left eyelid. "The Mambo Jumbo I've crafted you to be. You got this?"
Musa delivered a heavy sigh, raising his obsidian ring. He could only say one thing, his motto that carried his three little sisters along with him. "I've got this."
His eyes searched for Ramiya's, the center of his strength.
She nodded supportively. "And I've got you."
"And now... for all of you..."
Genesia nearly collapsed, if not for his outward appearance of control that awaited the worst. No... no no no no no no, not now.
Neosa's gaze shot daggers around the room, nearly pissing herself.
Nothing. Was that their imagination? Strange. Very strange. Pharaoh didn't sound like a torturous memory just then. It sounded like he had spoken in the room, distorting it, right then and there.
Neosa scanned the humans who looked oblivious.
"Just me and you?" She asked her twin telepathically.
"Just you and me," he responded.
Genesia sighed deeply. "Are the terms and conditions for the Fight of Fatality accepted, pending refinement and finalization?" He asked, reverting things back to reality.
Ramiya rolled out some parchment, looking over the writing, signatures and royal seals.
"Yes. It states here that if Oba Genesia wins, Prime Pharaoh Ramela shall possess exclusive rights to Metro in its entirety, unchallenged, no questions asked. The monarchy, or autocracy, whichever one prefers to call it, shall continue indefinitely. Share of power shall be decided by her. Major decisions shall be decided by her. All the sheep will be under her rule and care, including her fellow rulers Malikoh Ramoth, Mambo Musa and Phoenix Princess Ramiya. Law and religion will be below her as well. Ramelaism will be the supreme law and religion."
Ramoth threw a random glass out the window just because. It didn't hit anyone. He looked bored as hell, so he yawned loudly.
"Compulsory education will be free for all minds with particular emphasis on the youth, funded by her system of governance to spur productivity and economic growth. Since slavery is abolished, new labour laws will be drafted by her to be more reasonable in accordance with basic rights. Submission to her terms is an absolute must. An armistice is a must. Any and all resistance will be seen as disruptions to the peace, punishable by legal penalty, trial, imprisonment, death, or, if necessary, mental torture for teaching purposes."
"Tsek." Neosa swore under her breath. Ramoth didn't smirk then. The word "peace" made him look ill, severely ill, as though he was suffering from malaria. He didn't want peace! He wanted—
"If Morena Neosa wins," Ramiya carried on. "Mambo Musa will decide how power is to be spread. Ideally, he proposes a shift from monarchy, or autocracy, to democracy. Realistically, the people must have an active say and role. The people must have the power to vote and elect its council members from all backgrounds across the land. The people must be given a chance to express their opinions without fear of execution. The people must be given more rights."
Ramela's disgust was written all over her face at that ridiculous notion. "Sheep, expressing their opinions. We all know what bleating sounds like before they're butchered, or before they turn in the wrong direction, in need of the shepherd to steer them in the right direction," she muttered. She looked sick to her swelling stomach, and not because of her baby.
"Whichever system is chosen, Ramela will be demoted from Prime Pharaoh to Prime Mistress. Compulsory education will be free for all. Ramiya may elect to stay as Phoenix Princess or choose whichever title she is comfortable with. The judiciary will be revamped to allow for fair legal representation, fair access to courts and fair proceedings of trials for justice to prevail. Musa will have exclusive powers to exercise martial law in all of Metro to bring order and security for the time being until it is safe enough for the law, as the supreme source of power, to be above all, including the King, to ensure full accountability and persecution, regardless of social class and social standing. Rejection of an armistice will be seen as an act of aggression, leaving Ramoth season as the only option until one side surrenders unanimously." Ramiya rolled the parchment up.
Ramoth smirked again. War. He wanted war!
"When has any verbal agreement ever succeeded?" Genesia asked rhetorically.
"Never." Musa's answer struck the gut with pinpoint accuracy. He thought of his futile verbal agreement with Ra.
"When has any negotiation ever succeeded?"
"Never." Musa thought of his futile negotiation with Ra.
"When has a fight between two brought peace?"
Musa thought of his first fight with Ra. "Never."
Ramela glanced at Ramoth and the two shared disturbing grins with one another. Ramiya folded her hands like she was trying to keep them united instead of divided. Musa had a distant look in his eyes.
Genesia frowned deeply. So why are we doing this when we know how it will end? We hold the fates of millions in our hands. Why bother with the risk? Gene wondered, already knowing why. Because it's about the effort, the opportunity. We have to try. And...
He found his twin who was already giving him a fixed stare. The room faded. It was just them. Blue Amandla flame and red Amandla flame. The heat of battle caused the air around them to shimmer.
Because we can't control ourselves anymore. We're not just itching to do this. We're dying to do this. As warriors of cyclicity, this is what we live for. Neo summed it up best.
Which was why Gene said, there will be consequences. And there would be consequences. When aren't there? When all is well, all will be unwell again. Things never go according to plan. Especially when the two of us are involved. Either we're too strong for Mama Earth to handle, or Mama Earth is too weak to handle us. Either way, what else must we do? We are the way we are. The years of suppression in Mootlakeng and Petora didn't change our nature. It only built it up until it freed itself to be one with nature, our foe and friend.
Genesia took a deep breath. In order to fix things, you need to break things first. He thought of Ramela's words. And an earthquake.
Neosa expelled a shallow breath. Some things have to get worse before they get better. She thought of Ramoth's words. Along with volcanic ash.
The world was not ready. And neither were they, for that matter.
Genesia and Neosa shrugged. Oh well. We'll take what we can get and deal with the disasters of nature in our way. What else can we do?