VOIDMASTER: BETRAYAL

in #fiction5 years ago

I walked to the edge of the precipice and fell off. No screams left my lips until I felt the spray of the sea on my skin and the heat of the sun on my shoulder blades and then I flew. I swept up into the sky with the shocked seagulls juggling fish and screams in their beaks. I flew up until the earth let me go and fell away, until my breath left me, until the world darkened and all that was left was the universe in its infinite dark spaces.


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pixabay:RDS2


I watched the earth from the darkness and listened to her breathe. I felt her pulse and I could feel the heat of the fever running through her veins. I fell back and I fell fast. I landed on a desert just as some donkeys bent to take a sip of the oasis. I watched the men stand up in surprise and raise their veils to cover their faces. I watched the cowering men in chains, their eyes dull with the unfaltering truth of their situation. Their shackles cackled as they moved and sifted with the sands under the shade of the few palm trees that struggled for life beneath the scorching sun.

I watched the guns come out from beneath the veiled men and I saw their stance stiffen with the assurance of control and victory. They always think they are better off with a gun in their hands but I always disabuse them. I shifted with a thought and I was between the men. I called Asanga from the void and he fell into my hand, bloodthirsty as always. We fell to, I wielding the spear, he wielding my rage. I saw nothing but a veil of blood and suddenly there was silence.

I shook my head and tried to rouse myself but Asanga would not let me go. He had tasted blood and he wanted more. He cackled in my head as insane as the first time I had gripped his shaft so many centuries ago. I stepped forward, a growl on my lips. It was a battle and I struggled to my knees with Asanga gripped in my two hands then rising to my feet, I quickly turned the shaft and stuck the blade into my stomach. The moment my blood touched the blade, Asanga went to sleep and fell away into dust. I stumbled then I fell.

I awoke to a man staring at me with wonder in his eyes. I struggled to a sitting position and a hand offered me a canteen of water. I took a long drink and looked around me. It was night but the slaves had freed themselves and started a fire.

The men’s eyes flickered with the flame as they all stared at me.

“Thank you for saving us.” The man beside me said.

I grunted. I have not spoken to anyone for many years. He nodded his head and continued to study me. I raised my eyebrows at him and stared back.

“How are you alive? Those men pumped you with enough lead to kill all of us here and more.” He asked, curiosity overcoming caution.

I shook my head and got up. The bullet wounds were healed but the scars were still there. I had not felt them in my blood rage but now the memories of the pain flared within me with each movement I made. I sighed and looked up. The moon looked beautiful, big and silver. I turned to the man who had been talking to me. I pointed to the star hanging low in the night sky then I pointed into the distance. The man nodded and I nodded. I strode into the night and shifted with a thought.


Modupe rubbed her hands over the scars that puckered my skin like a badly constructed road. She bent and started to kiss each scar but her lips could not touch all of them. They were some that were too old to find and there were some patches of my skin that had been injured over and over again that the first injury laid like one of those old cities lost beneath the dunes of the Sahara.

I smiled and rubbed her shiny scalp. Modupe is a priestess of the god, Olokun. She is also one of the few women I dare let close enough. I am yet to find her guilty of betraying my trust and I truly do not want to kill her. She made me feel alive.

I open my eyes to see her watching me with those big eyes that shone as if the sea was in her eyes. I smiled at her. She shook her head and sat on the bed. Her hands twisted in questions.

“When are you leaving?” her hands asked.

“Today.” My hands replied.

She nodded and got out of the bed. I watched her gleaming black skin. Her waist undulated with each movement and her bare buttocks jiggled. For those who do not know her, it would seem that she did it deliberately but I know better. Modupe is who she is and she did not need any artifice to catch the eyes of a man. Unfortunately she had eyes for only one man, me.

As the room door closed behind her, I got up and began to get dressed. The room door burst open and five men covered with hoods entered. They had a silver brooch in the shape of a closed fist on their shoulders. They were not soldiers. They were priests of a different god, a god I had denied, a god I had stolen from. Modupe had betrayed me.

One of them stepped forward and bowed.

“Your time of exile is over. The Council demands your return.” He said.

I studied him silently.

“Exile? I was not exiled. I left.” My hands replied.

The man stumbled at the insult. He had treated me as an equal but I had treated him as a slave. I watched the anger fade from his eyes. He bowed again and smile.

“The Council has asked us to use force if you refuse.” He replied, still speaking.

I nodded.

“Go ahead.” My hands said.

The man smiled and he stretched forth his hands and summoned his battle weapon. It was a chain and suddenly cold crept into my heart. The other men behind the man with the chain, summoned their weapons and suddenly understanding dawned. They were the five masters of the arts. They were masters. They had trained me before I had conquered the void. They had failed since then to control me but I knew them to be powerful, each of them. Together, they were indestructible.

I bowed my head to them as their weapons came into view; the spear, the swords, the battle axe and the staff. I was yet to recover fully from Asanga’s rage from the desert fight. Summoning him again meant a terrible price. I can pay the price, I thought and summoned Asanga.

He entered my hand in brooding silence. There was no laughter just cold determination. I smiled and shifted as the five shifted. I will bring this shrine down on all their heads.

I twisted and turned through the melee. My spear flashed and recoiled as he stuck against summoned blades. I could hear the grunts and growling of men and espelled weapons. I was silent as always, my thoughts deep within me. Something stuck me. I bent and tried to shift but a chain caught my leg and I stumbled to my knees. A whirling shadow came at me and I raised Asanga to block but the movement changed suddenly and something stuck my head and darkness clouded my vision. I stumbled again then as I tried to rise, something pierced my chest. I looked down and saw Asanga deep within me. Blood spluttered from my lips as shock dressed me in cold shudders. Modupe’s betrayal I could understand but Asanga was mine the moment I drew him from the void. I staggered back and fell on my back as understanding came.

I heard the footsteps but I could not raise my head to look up. A shadow fell over me and I looked at the most beautiful face I have come to hate.

“Hello mother.” I said, my lips quivering with the effort.

She laughed that tingling laugh of hers and squatted before me.

“Ha… Dotun. You have grown.” Her hands replied.

She touched the haft of the spear and drew it out of me. My flesh puckered around my skin like papaya. The pain intensified. I was dying. I tried to speak but only blood came out of my lips.
She smiled at me then she stood up and turned to the men. As my eyes faded to darkness, I saw her hands say the fatal words; kill him. I tried to open my eyes and scream but I heard a roar. The roar grew louder until I felt hands grab me and then I slept.


©warpedpoetic, 2019

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Hi there @warpedpoetic!

Beautiful story! It was a bit short.. is there a continued followup story in the future?

By the way, congrats on your curie love.. cheers! ❤

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Thanks for reading @maquemali. I cannot say if there will be a sequel because I have a terrible habit of ending story series half way. I don't want to give the impression that it is a series then end up writing nothing. Despite this, I intend to write some more on this Voidmaster matter.

Once again, thank you for stopping by.

You are very much welcome!

Its okay.. atleast I had enjoyed this one. Im pretty sure the next ones will be just as great at this. Just keep on writing stories that keeps everyone hooked up. Congrats on your curie love! Cheers!

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Very intriguing story. Some aspects I would have to reread.
I am not too clear about the "hands speaking". Are we talking about sign language or just the body language being read and ventriloquized by the narrator/protagonist?
I read the universal motive of treason in the context of religion vs reason, chains vs freedom.
Freedom, especially of mind, is a dangerous weapon, one those who like to subject the masses fear and would rather keep restrained.

It is sign language i refer to. Maybe not the standard one we know.

Interesting story.
I might say at the end of the text it was the bad time for the character to fell as sleep.
I am looking forward to reading the next chapter. Thank you.

Thanks for reading. The character actually fainted not actually sleep. I tend to understate sometimes.

Hi warpedpoetic,

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