Nyumbani Chronicles: the Return Home

By Rod Van Blake

A fantasy tale that takes place in an alternate dimension to the Ancient Illumination universe where magic rules.

Corruption has seeped into the conduits of magic on Nyumbani disturbing the slumber of the elder dragons who depend on them for non-carnal sustenance. Mael, a young boy bless

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rod Van Blake
• Release date: Jul 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9781734589047

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Rod Van Blake

Nyumbani Chronicles:

The Return Home

Mahali Pengine Ent

Nyumbani Chronicles: The Return Home is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogs are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons living or dead, is purely coincidental.

A Mahali Pengine Entertainment LLC publication

Copyright 2020 by Rod Van Blake

Hard Cover ISBN 978-1-7345890-8-5

Paperback ISBN 978-1-7345890-7-8

Epub/digital ISBN 978-1-7345890-4-7

All rights reserved. With the exception of brief exerpts for review or educational purposes, no part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system. Please purchase only authorized electronic and hardcopy editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the authors’ rights is appreciated.

Printed in the United States of America

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Prologue

Far above Nyumbani floated the palatial barge known as Izulu, the place of the gods. It was too far to see with the naked eye and unfathomable to most had they been able to view it. For many mortals the very idea of a floating city fortress filled with gods was the stuff of silly legends. Olorun the sky god and creator sat at the edge of Izulu overlooking one of the many worlds he had created and pondered his boredom. The world below was a beautiful jewel and one of his best creations. The water and lands beneath were a myriad of varying biomes with an abundance of varying mortal creatures. Some were of his making and some unfortunately were the doings of the other Orishas and gods, not all of which dwelled on Izulu.

The worlds in this dimension were similar in some ways as their twins in the Milky Way but were not as sparse when it came to life on each surface. While science and mathematics ruled there these worlds had a larger mystical foundation to them. In many ways those same principles worked here but there was the presence of real magic here, not just simple parlor tricks and illusions. There were a number of mystical beasts here and Olorun enjoyed a fair bit of experimentation which some of his kin took entirely too far. More recently the sky god preferred to let mortals born here to develop and grow on their own without interference from the gods. It was evident from the results of life in this place that not all gods adhered to this practice.

Every so often Olorun decided join in the fun, just to see what happened. The skies were clear over most of the world with the exception of a large swath over the southern hemisphere. Leaving the confines of Izulu, Olorun flies to see what is causing the storms brewing there. Cosmic energy blazed in his eyes as he saw the source of the turbulent formations over the southern portion of the world below. Shango, god of thunder and lightning and Oya, goddess of wind, change and hurricanes were having a dispute. The argument had not become physical but the tension between them had caused quite the storm. At the approach of the sky god the energy subsided somewhat.

Chuckling Olorun remarks Don’t stop on my account, but I would advise being careful so close to the mortals. Care to share what the dispute was about? Lightning crackles around Shangos’ enormous frame as he replies Some just overstate their importance. A sultry giggle bubbles from Oya as she adds And some feel the need to flex and show their abilities when really they are not all that unique. Within one of my storms much of what this one has to offer can be found. Sighing Olorun says You two must really be bored to be out here having such a useless quarrel. Thinking on it some he continues Each of you give me a sample so I can test the potency.

Curious as to how such a thing could be tested, Oya opens her hands to conjure a glowing orb of hot white and blue energy which floats slowly into the waiting hand of Olorun. Proudly Shango scoffs A mere spark compared to roaring flames. Olorun holds the orb and places it within his chest and looks at Shango expectantly. After a moment Shango sighs exasperatedly before reluctantly holding out one hand and stares at Oya menacingly as a much larger orb forms in his palm. The light from it is nearly blinding and the current looks incredibly unstable. Satisfied the thunder god releases it. Shango smiles when Olorun seems to have tougher time catching the second orb before putting it away as he did the first.

Oya feigns a yawn stating You bore me Shango. I will love seeing that smirk wiped from your face when he tells us they’re nearly the same. I know what you did was only for show. When you see reason, think more on what I proposed. With that she faded from them leaving Olorun looking at Shango curiously seeing if he would explain. When it was obvious the thunder god would not elaborate Olorun said Very well then. Careful not to destroy what we have worked so hard to create here. Some of our other universes are not fairing so well at the moment. If it was a union she proposed, I would consider it if I were you. Oya can be a bit unpredictable, your powers are rather compatible, and you have to admit she is a delight to gaze upon. A goddess is a much better choice than some of the mortal dalliances some of us are prone to stumble upon.

The heavens boomed with Shangos’ laughter which the mortals below would hear as rolling thunder. Lightning crackled over his entire frame as he gathered himself to fly off. Over his shoulder he replied You know I don’t do well with commitment. Nearly instantaneously he shot off trailing lighting as he went. Laughing to himself Olorun glances down at the world below where the storm was at its most severe. The eye of the storm was just north of a small fishing village the mortals there called Tanji. The Creator could sense a new life was being born. Olorun had no intention of weighing which of the orbs taken from Shango and Oya were more potent. It was obvious the offering of the thunder god was more powerful but there were some added wind and storm elements to Oyas’ gift.

Not wanting to hold on to them Olorun decided to toss them into this new life and later keep an eye on this mortal as it grew to watch the results. The sky god wasn’t in the habit of doing this all the time so he made sure he remained invisible to the mortals there. Literally tossing them might work but then again it could have disastrous results. The lands of this place were nowhere near as breathtaking as Izulu and some of the other constructs the gods had built for themselves in other realms, but they were impressive nonetheless. There were mountains to the west of Tanji, a bustling city-state called Kemet to the northeast and the waters of the Iilwandle Ezinkulu crashing wildly in the aftermath of the storms.

The mortals there in Tanji were afraid and huddled in their homes or tethered boats. None dared brave the waters in the dark during such turbulent conditions. Olorun crept silently unseen to one of the homes where a young woman was struggling to give birth. A fire burned in the hearth as sweat beaded down her dark brown skin. The woman was panting and struggling to push this new life from her body. The midwife, an older woman with grey hair and loving brown eyes gave her words of encouragement. She was distracted as a large gust of wind blew the window open as a bolt of lightning struck alarmingly close to their home. In that moment Olorun tossed the orbs into the unborn child while the mortals around were further distracted by the lightning outside and winds which had picked up. No one saw the lightening course around the mothers’ body before it went to the child whose head had just crested.

The midwife rushed to close and shutter the window before going back to her duties at hand shouting for one of the tribesmen waiting outside the room to fetch some more water. The pain became too much and the mother passed out. The midwife had to move quickly. The older woman went to her bag of tools which were carefully wrapped and sanitized prior. After pulling out a small but extremely sharp knife, she said a quick silent prayer before making two sharp cuts instantly freeing the baby. There was no need to worry about the baby being stillborn as it wailed loudly. A cry that strangely coincided with another lightning strike outside accompanied by raucous thunder. The timing of it all unsettled the midwife but she had the mother to tend to.

Olorun watched as the mother was expertly stitched back up and bandaged with some natural salve the midwife had premixed and applied to the small wounds. With that done, the midwife picked the child back up to wash it down with warm water and it began to coo softly. As the baby relaxed the weather outside began to abate some. Again, the midwife thought this was strange but couldn’t dwell on it too long as the mother began to come back to consciousness and immediately wanted to hold her new son. Once she was sure the mother and child were reasonably comfortable the midwife stepped out to get more supplies. The sky god slowly approached but did not make his presence known. The mother began to feel a bit uneasy but did not know why.

The child on the other hand somehow knew it was in the presence of another being. Olorun stifled a chuckle as the newborn mustered up the strength to look in his direction. The baby boy was a tiny brown bundle of muscle, bone and other organic tissue but few would guess at the potential power within this seemingly weak thing. Looking over at the mother for a moment Olorun pitied her. She had no idea what rearing this child would bring in addition to the usual hardships of such a task. Although he was curious as to how this situation would play out, he vowed not to interfere too much. Just as the midwife came back into the room Olorun took the opportunity to make his exit out the window they had shuddered moment before.

The child began to wail and a large strike of lightning hit a tree just outside the window. The young one felt the presence leave and was not happy about it. Not yet having the skills to communicate this he simply cried. The midwife saw the child’s reactions and connected them with the weather changes, mentally corelating them but would not put a voice to her suspicions until there was more proof. When the child calmed some, she felt maybe she was just being silly or superstitious. What will you name him? she asks the mother. Wearily the mother looks down at her child and says Ishmael, but I think I’ll call him Mael for short. Appropriate, considering the weather under which he came into this world.

The midwife nodded her agreement but could not shake the idea that perhaps the bearing of this child brought about the conditions somehow. There was a loud crash of thunder as if to emphasize that point and instead of crying the baby giggled to their surprise. The mother smiled, but the midwife was taken aback and went on a made-up errand for more supplies. On this night rumors about Maels’ parentage was spread. Months ago, his father an upstanding chieftain had gone off to aid in the latest of many campaigns in hopes to bring back both monetary gains and respect to his family and the village of Tanji. He was assumed dead since the wars had since ended yet there was no sign of the man. This was not confirmed so out of respect to his family his name was not spoken until they knew for certain.

As the boy grew up the villagers noticed his skin pigment was off in certain places. After a few seasons he was still young so the adults made mental notice of it but said nothing. The other children however were very vocal and began to tease him. Mael’s mother tried to comfort him as best she could but this often led to him having dreadful tantrums. Those tantrums were soon accompanied by perilous storms or large lightning strikes. Rumors about the boy’s birth resurfaced and the parents of the other children would urge them not to tease Mael. Six or seven seasons later Mael found himself sitting on a nearby river bank looking at his reflection in the water.

The boy was utterly hairless from head to toe, with brown skin but here were areas where the color was interrupted by cream splotches. He thought perhaps they wouldn’t be so bad if they had an organized pattern or some kind of symmetry. Mael wasn’t sure he looked bad but the other kids were quite confident that he was ugly. Thinking about this brought tears to his dark brown eyes. As if on cue some of the children from Tanji come out of the verdant foliage as if they had been in hiding watching him. For moments nothing is said. They stare silently. Mael decides to break the awkward silence Hello.

They were having none of it. A tall girl with honey brown skin and large eyes seemed to be the leader of the group. She approaches him slowly looking disdainfully as she plays with her thick locks. The other children look to be a few seasons younger than her but older than Mael. Kezi is her name Mael thinks to himself waiting to see what she has to say and dreading it. The other kids have similar features so they were likely siblings. All of them look Mael up and down with disapproval. So, what is it that made your hair fall out? Why is your skin discolored? Before Mael can answer the youngest of the group says I heard his mother took a Djaemon to bed, and he’s the offspring! They all burst into laughter as tears welled in Maels’ eyes.

The youngest girl interjects I heard his father died a dishonorable death abandoning his company so his seed was cursed at birth! Kezi looks at her sister in surprise adding Could be true if the rumors of his birth are true. Tanji lost many boats in a storm that came when this pitiful thing burst from his mothers’ loins. They once again began to laugh. The boy was emboldened by his sisters and in between guffaws he bent down to pick up a handful of mud to sling at Mael. It hit him square in the face with a meaty thud.

Despite warnings from their parents they goaded the boy anyway. Their joviality was interrupted as Maels’ eyes went a blazing blue as wind around him began to pick up. His mother was aware of the teasing and tried to get Mael to understand that this would go away with time. She knew he was special and told him others were simply jealous or afraid of what was different. Most times he was under the very watchful eye of his mother and could control the urges to use his abilities many of which he had no idea existed. From an early age they seemed to come about involuntarily. These children had no real desire to get to know him. To learn about who he was. They just wanted to tease and goad him. Looking up malevolently he thought You’re going learn today.

They realized too late that they had awoken whatever was rumored to be inside him and tried to run. All three found themselves trapped in miniature personal tornadoes. Lightning struck uncomfortably close to them repeatedly. Shrieks of terror rang out from the children breaking Mael out of his rage induced trance and they were released. When they landed in heaps they quickly ran as fast as their legs permitted. Mael passed out from sudden exhaustion. He had no idea how long he had been out when he woke. It was dark and his mother must be worried he thought so he hurried home.

He was surprised to see a gathering of angry tribesmen in front of his home. His mother looked tired and seemed to be at a loss for words. They were shouting at her You know what must be done! The child is a curse! Our babies were assaulted by that djaemon! Look at them! Mael followed to where the huge tribesmen known as Otemu was pointing to and saw Kezi and her siblings. All of them clinging to their mothers’ skirt with large drake tears flowing down their faces. Kezi notices Mael and screams There he is! pointing.

All eyes turn to Mael who looks disheveled, mud and dirt still clung to him after the earlier display. The group of tribesmen made to step in his direction with weapons bared. They hesitated when Maels’ eyes began to blaze once again. Otemu says You see! There it is djaemon seed. Before they could come any closer a Maels’ teary eyed mother ran to get between them. No! He’s just a child! He had nothing to do with the lost boats and dead tribesmen that night! Leave Ishmael alone! His father went off on behalf of all of you, and this is how you repay his sacrifice? she implored. There were some grumbles that agreed with her but most did not seem to be mollified.

The mob slowly backed away anyway. Otemu spat on the ground before them and the look on his face said he would be back. The crowd dispersed and Mael just sat there hugging his sobbing mother. When he tried to ask what the tribesmen were talking about, she shushed him and told him it was nonsense before ordering him to Get washed up and ready to eat. I was worried you had drowned! Mael quickly did as she asked. When he came out from bathing, he smelled a delicious fish stew.

He could still see that his mother was afraid for some reason though she tried to hide it from him. She saw the look of concern on his face and tried to comfort him by hugging him and giving him a strange hunk of steel wrapped in a fine cloth. What’s this? Mael asked. Rubbing her hands over his smooth head she answered The owner is proof you’re not a djaemon seed curse on this village. When the time comes, I want you to ask him. Sleep now child. We have an early day tomorrow. Mael was desperately curious but knew he would get no more information so he did as his mother bid and went to bed clinging to the weird keepsake. He was soon deep in sleep.

Roaring flames and acrid smoke woke Mael up much later. Throwing the covers to the side he hops up to check on his mother. To his dismay he sees her limp body at the entrance with two cloaked and hooded men standing over her. Upon noticing him one of the assailants says There he is! A dagger flies through the air and is immediately brushed aside as sudden winds carry it away. Lightning struck the attacker who threw the dagger in the chest. The second hooded person barely had time to duck the seared flaming remains of his partner. The strike had come through the roof adding more damage to the already burning home. The remaining hooded figure took the opportunity to leap out of the home. Mael had never seen anyone move like that but didn’t let it stop him from giving chase.

Mael jumped through the smoke out the front entrance which was still open and tried to find where the attacker had gone, but was only able to see the figure retreat into the shadows and disappear into a wooded area. An older woman was standing in the doorway of the home across from them. Mael ran to her and yelled Help! They killed my mother! There were tears in her eyes as she knelt down to speak to him. No child, you killed her with the wickedness within you. I know you’re young but if you head northeast from here you will come to a place known as Kemet. You cannot stay here. More will come for you if you do, and they will kill more here for the misfortune you have brought us.

Mael’s heart leapt in his throat and he certainly didn’t remember unleashing his power on his mother, but he was asleep after all. There had been strange occurrences during nightmares in seasons past. The boy still didn’t understand what curse these people thought he had brought to them. He could see in her eyes that there was no convincing her, and he could also tell that she felt horrible on some level. There was no comfort in her pity. Clutching the keepsake Mael ran back to what was left of his home but could not enter as the flames were now roaring. Mael wasn’t sure but he could swear he saw lacerations on his mothers’ body. The smoke was somewhat obscuring his view.

There was the approach of voices from more villagers, a lot of them likely coming to put out the flames. On the other hand, they could be coming to finish the job. Mael wanted to go back in to at least say goodbye to his mother but felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up he saw the grey-haired neighbor had come to stand over him. No time child. Take this. Follow the river bank. When you reach the califa patch turn left. Follow the coast and you will find the place I told you about. It’s much larger than this small fishing village and I am sure someone will take you in if you keep your head down. We don’t tolerate djaemon blood here. I am sorry.

The voices and footsteps were getting closer. Mael ran in the direction the woman pointed out. His head was reeling and his heart ached at the thought of harming the one person he loved the most. Crashing through the foliage as he ran Mael tripped on a tree root and stopped sobbing atop the package the old woman gave him. Wiping his tears, he quickly rummaged through it to find food wrapped in small clothes that seemed to be his size. Mael wondered how things could have gone so wrong. There was a terrifying howl in the distance and a voice in his head said No time for feeling sorry. You need to move. Confused Mael looked around for where the voice came from but saw no one.

Off in the distance there was a powerful lightning strike and deep rolling thunder. Somehow, he knew to head in that direction. It turned out to be the right way. There was still someone or something pursuing him but from the awful crunching sounds whatever or whoever it was may have run into the beasts making the howling sounds. It did not sound to be a peaceful meeting. Mael kept running. The boy ran until he was spent and dropped in a thicket. With no idea how much further, he had to go he drifted to sleep hoping he was far enough from whoever was trying to kill him.

When he woke the sun was just rising but he was not where he remembered passing out. Instead he was somehow just outside the gates of Kemet. Things were getting stranger and stranger. The city for the most part was still dark as the rays of light were taking their time spreading across the landscape. The beauty of it was breathtaking but that could not distract Mael from the horrific events of the night before. Truth be told he could not be sure only a single night had passed given the distance he travelled. Sitting up he looked around trying to get a clue as to how he came to be at the city gates. The noise of the gates beginning to slide open as gears moved accompanied by grunting noises as the sentries used their combined strengths to open them.

Hurriedly Mael scurried to get into the shadows close to the gate but near some bushes. After the events in Tanji he wasn’t sure who he was safe around or who to trust. From there he watched as two guards came to stand watch. Mael was used to seeing men carry weapons but these were like nothing he had seen in his home town. The people of Tanji were peaceful for the most part and fishermen by trade. They only went to war out of necessity to protect what they felt belonged to them or some chose to fight for glory and of course for coin. The weapons Mael was used to seeing were scythes, spears and nodachi swords. These guards wore fitted leather jerkins with pieces of plate armor over top of it, but as splendid as that was, it wasn’t what held the boys’ attention.

The two tall mahogany skinned men had ridiculously large swords on their backs. They had to be impossible to lift let alone wield. Yet they seemed to be having little trouble carrying them. The look of them exuded danger. Mael made sure to keep to the shadows but knew he had to gain entry somehow. He was still unsure of what to do even if he managed to do so. Moments later an elderly woman and a young girl that had to be around Maels’ age came out to get water. The girl was carrying two small jugs. The woman seemed to be in some pain as she slowly ambled by. On their return trip Mael was sure the girl had spotted him, but she said nothing.

As time went by traffic in and out of the city ebbed and flowed, Guards changed around three times as Mael nervously waited for some plan of action to come to his mind that made sense. He nearly leapt out of his skin when the girl from earlier appeared out of nowhere right behind him. You’re a strange one, aren’t you? she asked. Mael fell into the shrubbery startled and she giggled. Initially angry at being spooked Mael wanted to lash out but her laughter somehow comforted him. Introducing herself she says I am Ajia. You can simply walk in you know. Nervously Mael looked to the gates and the guards. They won’t cleave me in two with those massive swords?

That made her laugh again No, silly boy! Why would they? Are you a brigand, or worse some djaemon raider? At the last Aija saw Mael visibly recoil. Touching him on the shoulder she said Come with me. When they see you, they will think you’re a new member of the Amasela. Aija was being nice to him and that immediately made Mael suspicious. The children back home were rarely nice to him, and when they were it was under stern looks from nearby adults. With no other plan that he felt comfortable with Mael felt he really had no choice and so he followed. To his surprise the guards paid them little mind. Once they got some distance passed the guards Mael stopped to ask Where are you taking me?

Aija looked him up and down before asking Are your parents around? Do you have an Isikolo that speaks for you? When Maels’ gaze went to the ground she knew the answer to both questions was no. She continued That means you are inkedama, and you will need food and shelter. The Amesala can provide both. Confused Mael says I don’t know what any of that means. I was told someone here would be able to take me in. I would like it to be a nice family. Playfully slapping him on the head she says Ah! Silly boy. Look at you! You look like you came from the streets and so the street will have to do for now. Whoever told you that were either crazy or lying. Come now! We might be back in time while some chapati and meat are still left. With that they were on their way and Mael was taken to the guild masters for the Amesala, the thieves guild in Kemet. For the next seven years they tried to train him.

Chapter One

It had been a foul four days since Simon has had the fortune to find a good drink. Walking through these war-torn lands and seeing the desolation of the aftermath is what makes him crave the temporary comfort of the bottle. He had avoided the small fishing village to the east. There was an even worse pall since the killing of one of their own over sixteen seasons ago. Simon didn’t feel like sifting through all the speculation surrounding the place but crossed the Pantu grasslands instead to find the city of Kemet. The taverns there were reputed to have the best ales around. Come to think of it the grasslands looked to be in bad shape as well. Simon tried to push all this from his mind. He had a limited amount of funds but what he did have should be enough to drink his cares away. The conditions of the surrounding lands weren’t the only thing bothering him. Simon looked much older than he was, and that was by design. The retired battle magi tried often to escape notice and recognition. To the untrained eye he was a haggardly old miser with one arm reduced to begging on the dusty streets for food and drink. Recently he preferred drink as his hidden abilities allowed him to hunt in unconventional ways. The older man’s belly was rarely empty.

Simon was tall and powerfully built but walked with a pronounced hunch giving the impression of weakness. His long locks were dyed whiter than usual to further give the illusion of age. His black cloak was dusty to the point of looking grey, and the glamour that was perpetually on him further enhanced what he wanted others to see. Despite the circumstances Simon always had a twinkle in his brown eyes. Looking down at his dark brown skin leading to the stump of his right arm Simon felt the regret of past failures. All that even if only briefly