A History Through Blood

The quick and successive termination of the Tokoloshe was immediately known to Akake nla, as their collective astral connections were severed over the course of several minutes. Whatever was intruding on his domain was more powerful than he had initially thought, considering that it was at least strong enough to defeat his enhanced minions. Were it something that shared his worldview, the village would be plundered relatively soon after their victory. At least, based upon the length of the battle, the transgressing party would need a moment before pillaging his village.

Having lived for centuries battered and broken, Akake nla had become more and more selfish and cautious. He did not like the taste of defeat; it was extremely cold and bitter. Unlike his previous defeats, he had learned a new technique from the mortals to better shield him from any danger while also reaping all of the rewards. The ritualistic possession the humans used, which was intended to share ancestral or guiding knowledge to their people, could also allow him to control the sorcerer like a toy. Having this useless sorcerer confront the interlopers from the safety of his burrow would spare him from any repercussions.

The spiritual anchor that lay in Ambonisye's hut told Akake nla that the sorcerer was currently pacing inside, along with another younger presence. Fortune was on the scorpion's side, as there was a fresh offering he could use to empower his deathly avatar. It was time to end his current experiment and start anew somewhere else. His former wards would die regardless of the outcome of their battle, so there would not be any consequences for harvesting the souls of the remaining villagers.

-

Ambonisye rocked back and forth, waiting for his Tokoloshe to return. Usually, one or more would report back to him at regular intervals, although this time there were heavy delays. Ever since he had come in contact with his patron, the sorcerer found that he could never stand straight and was never able to find stability on his own two feet. With the stress of the situation rising, the discomfort in his joints intensified as he lent on a staff for support.

Alone with his thoughts, the sorcerer's mind started imagining scenarios playing out on the fringes of his village. Was the woman casting spells in order to summon her mysterious patron? Were those foreign imams starting to fortify their blades and dispelling the boons of his god? What even was the true form of her master? Did it even share the appearance of the gut plundering vultures? So many questions with no hope of answers since his enchanted minions had still not returned.

“Ambonisye....” echoed an all too familiar voice. “You are in danger... Ambonisye...” From the venerated mask placed respectfully on the wall, the harrowing voice rang out. The warning rattled around the room, echoing through the thatched roofing in a voice unheard by most. “Your protectors... they have been killed...” How did they find them? They should have been watching them from afar, safe and secure under their protective invisibility wards. These interlopers only grew more infuriating the longer they transgressed on their village, destroying their guardians and tempting his people.

Kosoko's loud snores broke his manic thoughts, returning his focus to the astral voice. “There is no time... we need to prepare...” Chills ran through his bones at these words. Ambonisye had never heard this tone expressed by Akake nla. It held a seriousness that was used by only the most experienced of warriors, having felt the full force of death and remaining stalwart. “What must I do?” he asked, fear creeping into his words. “I will get whatever you require. Be it herbs, blood or flesh.” The mask channeling the scorpion seemed to radiate power, staying his unease. “We must sacrifice the child... His life will save your... our village...”

His resolve faltered, the other men and women he had sacrificed were all from outside of their community. He knew nothing about them, aside from their name and roughly where they had come from. They were nothing but sacrificial slaves, bought for the soul purpose of being offered to his god. Kosoko, on the other hand, had a personal connection with the sorcerer. Ambonisye has seen him grow from a weak baby to the child before him today, even if he was a little peculiar. Could he really do this? What would he tell his parents? Was it possible to blame it on the visiting sorcerer?

As he tried to rationalize this situation, he absentmindedly placed his hand on the mask of Akake nla. At that moment he felt calmer and more relaxed, not noticing the dark tendrils creeping down his arm. Calm washed over the sorcerer, quickly finding the resolve in his mind as to what had to be done. His internal protests were quickly suppressed as a feeling of certainly washed over him. Doubts soon faded as he slowly approached the sleeping child.

The shadow-like tendrils had spread across his body, not that Ambonisye could notice them in his current state. Gently the manifestations lifted up the child, forming black pincers around Kosoko's body. Soon his hand and legs were locked in place against a supporting beam in such a way as to expose his back, while others firmly gripped his mouth and neck. Only now did Kosoko stir awake, as the sharp claws dug into his exposed limbs. He tried to scream, but was unable to as the shadowy force against his throat prevented any screams for help.

Looking into the fearful eyes of Kosoko, Ambonisye found his previously suppressed doubts. It was only then he realized that he had lost control of his body. Akake nla's mask had moved from his finger tips and onto his chest, being held in place by black magic. He could only watch as his right hand reached for his ritual axe, while his left maintained the binding spell on Kosoko. He tried to break the spell that he had been ensnared by, but every incantation seemed only to strengthen the scorpion's control.

Amobisye closed his eyes as he heard the scorpion's voice, chanting in some unknown and foreign tongue. Surely there was a reason for this... there had to be. It was certainly true that he often faltered when it came to performing any human offerings, but was it necessary in this instance. Right? Given the stakes of their situation, his hesitancy might cost vital moments and lead to the destruction of his village. Akake nla was right to forcefully guide his body, maximizing the power that could be gained from such a sacrifice.

He felt the impact of the axe hitting bone*. There was little resistance, only a crack as the child's ribs split open from the impact. Blood splattered his face and chest, only to be absorbed into the magic surrounding him. Kosoko had of course tried to scream, but the deathly claws silenced his agonized cries. The subsequent strikes held limited resistance, as the child had fallen unconscious or had died from blood-loss. It didn't matter which it was, the outcome would be the same.

Akake nla guided his hand into the exposed rib cage, digging into his organs as if they were clay. Soon he located the heart, giving its final few beats as is rested between the deflating lungs. He felt his hand tearing out the heart, bringing it up to his own mouth. Ambonisye was not expecting this, usually the hearts of the sacrificed were given directly to the great scorpion. This time he had to consume the heart himself, drawing directly from power of the other side. He could not fight this; his god would not allow him any say in the matter. Accepting his role, the sorcerer bit into the warm and still beating heart.

When he swallowed the first bite, a powerful surge of magic filled his body, raising him from the dirt floor. It burned like the intense raging fires that swept the planes, overloading his nerves with pain as his body adjusted to the magic. Then came the freezing cold, numbing his extremities as the magic retreated into his core. The magic continued rhythmically pumping as he finished consuming the bloody organ, pulsing throughout his body as it was his own heartbeat.

Ambonisye stood on his own two feet, panting under the weight of his newfound power. This is the strength that he sought. No, the strength that he deserved. He should've done this years ago, taking the other villagers under his thumb by force. From now on, he would dedicate his life to Akake Nla. This was surely just the tip of his power. With this... maybe he could start his own country... no... start his own empire. His children would inherit this land and rule over it, ensuring that Akake Nla's greatness was acknowledged by those across the land.

“Focus...” the voice commanded. “There is someone waiting outside... show them ...why you are the leader of this village....” Letting out a cackle, the sorcerer walked confidently to the doorway. As he walked the mask slowly crept up from his chest to rest on his face, while his arms summoned two tribal staves. Dark magical lightning leapt between the two staves, crackling with magical energy. No man should be able to beat him, this would be a demonstration of his power.