I AfroSays, I bid you, welcome a friend.
She is of the same journey as I.
I, Slim, I beat the gong tonight! Yay!!
So! I beat the gong.
I beat the gong of courage, and not of war…
The courage that lies in the breast of young women as they go out into the world to be saviours of their families and clans…
Insudantha by Slim
I am in a chasm, with glass walls and gold edges around me. I wonder how such lavishness came to be spent in a hole underground, when the times that we live in are times of want and suffering. I peer into the mirror and I can see my jutted lips and permanent frown, etched into my forehead. Gone are the days I was called beautiful. Gone are the days of beauty.
I look behind me. The people that look back remind me where I’m going. The looks on their faces are old, old and wise from the age of suffering. The children wave, chanting their goodbyes. Their parents clutch them tightly. They are absent minded. Or single minded, for they know the singleness of my purpose. I journey to the land no one would dare go. I do not know the name or what It will be called, but the path to the place is etched in my mind.
There is deep sadness in our hearts, and it reverberates in my soul. The looks they give me, oh, so wistful! A golden drop alights on the cheek of my mother, and I see that it is the dying sun reflecting in her tears. Don’t cry for me, my mother. Don’t cry. The daughter of Insudantha would bring you back your happiness, your home, your pride…
The chasm begins its descent. It has no door, so it does not close. There is little need for a door anyway. Slowly, I begin my plunge into the earth. I face the mirrors, I face my fate. It is time. Darkness envelops me, and I remember my father’s words…
“Darkness is good, Daughter of Insudantha. It will open your mind, and prepare it for the evil that lurks within…”
It is a long descent, and despite my stoic demeanour, my mind wanders a little. I cannot deny the fear that is in me, for it settles so heavily upon my chest. This mission would be the last of its kind. There can be only one journey to kill this Evil. I do not know what to expect, because none have gone before me. What would It look like? How would it fight? Would there be trickery involved? There is nothing I despise more that duels of the mind. Fight me like a woman, match power for power and strength for strength, let it be said that the mighty Valkyrie descendant, the great granddaughter of Brynhild, slew her opponent in a worthy clash of swords and not the weak swarshes of words…
The chasm stops suddenly. The darkness is full now. It is time. I clasp my hands and try to be strong, sending a quick beseech to Brynhild, Mother of the Strong and Wise . I peer into the mirrors and I see another form. There is a creature there, so dark! I thought to myself, Lo, this must be the mother of darkness herself. She is so dark that I could only make out her form because it was darker than the darkness around us. I touch the hilt of my sword and she fingers hers too, a mocking smile lingering in her bright eyes, eyes that burned with hate and mockery and everything in between…
It was a long fight. A hard one. She knew my blows and she knew her blows, and she didn’t seem to tire out. I struck as my father had taught me but it was clear that the end was drawing near. I could see that it would not be long before I was finished. She stepped heavily on my foot and drew her pulsing dark form towards me, and I fell at her feet. The end was near. I tried to strike a final blow but she was faster than me, piercing her sword deep, bringing out the blood and water that make up my being…
I was dying. Oh, Mother Brynhild! Save my people, for their hero has failed!
Then a strange thing happened. All the mirrors began to slide open. Darkness poured into the forms behind them and started to advance, her bright eyes magnifying into a legion and boring into me. Their thirst for blood was hungry in their bright, bright eyes. They had been waiting for me. I stared deep into the eyes of the one who held me down, and realised in one painful swoop of horror, that It was I. I was the evil that lurked beneath their hearts…
On both sides by AfroSays
The warring many punctured the dark, cloudy skies with cries of many meanings as burning arrows rained down on both sides. Sonorous cries. Ugly cries. On both sides.
Metal found bone. Splintered wood found flesh. Kegs of black and white powder exploded, borrowing from some a leg, from others an arm. Some managed to contribute a head, their bodies alone would fight this bitter fight. There was burning and smoke and the sacrifice of souls. Holy souls. Infernal souls. On both sides.
Mighty birds or whatever they were soared in the sky, picking men and women and dropping arms and legs and whatever else remained after. Beautiful birds. Grotesque birds. On both sides.
Mighty beasts or whatever they were tore through the unfortunate ones that held rank before them. Majestic beasts. Hideous beasts. On both sides.
They was victory and defeat on both sides, an eternal ocean of warriors and there was no end to them.
One side was the colour of death, with its machines of pain and its souls and its birds, whatever they were and its beasts, whatever they were also. The other side was the colour of mercy, with its machines of pain and its souls and its birds, whatever they were and its beasts, whatever they were also.
A little village sat on a hill, its feet painted brightly in the colour of the war that was, waiting for the eventual conqueror, waiting for its king.
Good. Evil. The battle to rule yourself.
PLEASE DO LEAVE A COMMENT. REAL FEEDBACK ON HOW THE STORY RELATES TO REAL LIFE. COMMENTS SUCH AS “DEEP” OR ANY OF ITS SYNONYMS ARE ONLY STATING THE OBVIOUS, KINDLY SHARE WHAT YOU REALLY THINK (EVEN IF IT’S THAT THE MESSAGE IS UNCLEAR) SO WE CAN ALL COMPARE IDEAS. THANK YOU.
FIND THE ART OF SLIM HERE
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