Agents of Literary Change
Portentum: Africa Reborn
Below is a chapter of Portentum: Africa Reborn. Just sharing with you all.
The forest jungles are immense in the land of Mirobi. The hunters of the Winsfinnder tribe slowly descend the foothills of Buundabunna. It is a steep slope always drenched by the rains, making its long blades of grass a death sentence for the hunters that traverse its terrain. An elder by the name of Sumpkempo accompanies the younger hunters though the forest jungle. He is wise to the mountainous perils and versed in the spear, bow, and blade. The hunters; Shamalo, Hinskop, Haaran, Pebranas, Mawu, and Gunapoos have picked up the scent of the guantanos, stealthy creatures of the forest jungle, large and fearsome to many of the denizens that live amongst the overgrowth of the plants and trees that make up the ecosystem.
They have been hunting the whole day, leading them further from their tribe’s location and deeper into the forest jungle. Many of the birds and animals that glide amongst the top of trees leave an echoing sound throughout the jungle ceiling.
As the evening approaches, the sounds become different as the creatures and animals of the day take refuge and the creatures and animals of the night emerge. Haaran has picked up the scent of a merconas, a pig-like creature that is very swift and abundant in the forest jungle. Haaran gestures for Mawu to climb to the top of the pornaka tree. The tree is of average height, a few meters above the ground, but the tops are bushy with figfig leaves. Mawu waits in the darkness of the treetop and spots the merconas. With perfect accuracy, Mawu’s spear shoots cleanly through the merconas as it attempts to sprint away.
The men gather wood to burn for the evening fire. Sumpkempo directs the movement to ensure a timely preparation to partake in the capture and consumption of the merconas. The fire’s embers crackle and pop as the men sit around the fire talking in the native tongue as it is known this day and age. They tell of hunting stories and their love for their people and families. Their laughter can be heard through the forest jungle. The men feast on the final entrails of the merconas and drink from the vinfufu that is found hanging from the timfessa tree’s trunk.
The evening is now quiet, and the tribesmen are now deep in a slumber. One of the tribesmen stands watch over the camp, as he too will gain sleep when his time is over, and he is replaced by another member. The night grows long with only the light emanating from the fire that the guard keeps going by adding wood to it. He sits on a fermoncha leaf, a large leaf taken from its high branches good for wrapping meat in and comfortable to sleep on. It also shields movement, as its surface is composed of fur-like protrusions, and it is limp. That is good for the restless legs and the guard to shift position without making a sound. The guard puffs on a quifilla leaf. The
quifilla is a stimulant and energy enhancer found deep in the wisperoon pits of Sirronas Valley. It is only effective when puffed at constant intervals.
The moon looms over the forest jungle like a lantern in the sky. The men all sleep, even the guard. They all share a common dream of a gift of prosperity for Africa. There are smiles upon their faces as they see their families sharing huts and houses with other tribes. They smile as they see their children’s children run through the swinalu plants chasing the perigeniwallaws with no dangers lurking. However, their dreams are changed into nightmares as a beast clouds heir minds, and their peaceful slumber is replaced with agony. They all roll back and forth as if on fire, yelling out from their sleep. They claw at the ground as if caught in a state of imprisonment. They yell out from their sleep for their families that they now see in distress.
They awaken with sweat pouring from their brows. They look at one another in amazement, knowing that they all dreamed the same dream and fought the same nightmare. They quickly gather their belongings and turn to go back to their tribe hoping to find guantanos somewhere along the way. The journey is now arduous as they all travel silently back, reflecting on the ominous prophecy. They remember their dream and the nightmare that became a beast of great strength able to destroy any that come across its path.
The men begin to emerge from the forest jungle line into an open field that is large and circular. The field is surrounded by the forest jungle on all sides. Sumpkempo looks out into the field with dread. The morning sun sits over the field putting the men in the shadow of the forest jungle’s foliage. The village is but a few kilometers away on the other side. He puts his hand up as the other members of the camp approach behind him. It is a gesture to wait. He closes his eyes and turns his ear toward the sky across the field. Sumpkempo tunes into an ancient skill that only his lineage, and a small portion of the families in other tribes have mastered. There are faint sounds coming from the direction he listens to, however, he cannot make out what it is. He squints to glare through the rays of the sun and rubs his eyes as he looks upon what he believes cannot be real. Above the tree line on the opposite side of the field he sees smoke rising. The other members of the tribe see the smoke as well. One of the men begins to run out toward the field, and Sumpkempo stops him. He puts his finger to his lips to signal that they need to remain silent.
Sumpkempo crouches and silently tells the others to crouch down as well behind the bushes that obscure their presence. The men recognize that the elder is letting them know that they are not alone. They all peruse the terrain amongst the brush and trees. Sumpkempo continues to look out over the trees and is transfixed on the smoke that continues to rise higher into the morning sky.
The longer they wait the more agitated the camp becomes. Sumpkempo senses the other men’s distress. He sits on the ground and beckons the men to sit with him. They sit in a circle holding hands. Sumpkempo closes his eyes and the others do as well. They begin to meditate and speak in tongues. They are calling out to God and the ancestral spirit of strength and cunning as they realize the forces of evil surround them. Sumpkempo begins to shake and his eyes roll back into his head as if he is seizing. The other men begin to shake and their eyes too roll back. They continue to maintain their state of supplication as the shaking grows uncontrollable, beginning to loose their grips from one another. And suddenly it stops. Their heads hang as if they are asleep.
Sumpkempo snaps his head up and sees the men still with their heads down. He stands and hears footsteps as no other would hear. He turns his head to look back through the clearing onto the field. His eyes grow wide and his face shows a fearful expression as he sees the adversary, a lion walking onto the field with a child in its mouth.
“Omnisosis,” Sumpkempo whispers. It is an omen of doom.
The men stir, their eyes yellow. They have tapped into an ancient energy that their tribe is linked to.
Two more lions emerge from the brush. The forward lion walks toward the middle of the field and lays the child on the ground. Sumpkempo gestures to the men, without turning to face them, to take a flanking position in the tree line. Two of them jump to the trees and whisk up into the branches. Two more run as quickly and silently as the two that took to the trees. The remaining two stand behind Sumpkempo. All the men, save Sumpkempo, have been partially transformed into something greater. They wait for their orders.
The lions lick at the child as if tasting or playing with him. The largest lion, the one that carried the child in its mouth, raises his head and roars as if to swallow the child whole.
Sumpkempo raises his hand and lowers it. The men attack. Spears fly from the tree tops with quickness and accuracy impaling the lion as it begins to lower its head revealing its fangs and tongue. The lion cries out as the spears end its life. The other two lions roar as the two tribesmen that flanked their position release their spears, hurtling toward the creatures. The lions step and run to avoid the attack. Jumping from the trees they all run into the opening to face the lions. Sumpkempo stays back, meditating once again.
The tribesmen circle around the lions as the lions look upon them with anger. Their faces twist as they snarl at the men. The two with their spears see the boy lying still. Fearing that he is dead, they throw their spears once again at the lions, hitting one of them and injuring it. They find large sticks that would be heavy to any other and begin to press the lions.
Without hesitating, Sumpkempo, frail from old age, jumps from the bushes with strength in his legs and runs toward where the boy lies, and with a cat-like agility grabs the child without losing stride and whisks him toward the opposite tree line. In an instant they have disappeared. The other tribesmen engage the lions eager to end this battle and reach their homes. They rush the lions swinging the sticks at them. Slamming the end of the stick toward the ground Hinskop leaps high into the air, using the stick as a pole vault. His maneuver is countered by one of the lions, as it too jumps into the air, crashing into him and bringing him down hard to the ground. Hinskop is dead. Pebranas and Mawu lunge at the lion that killed Hinskop. Pebranas jousts at the lion turning its attention to him as Mawu smashes his stick shattering it into splinters across the lion’s spine. The lion roars and jumps at Mawu swiping his claws across his leg. He screams in agony, losing his concentration to the spiritual energy he had tapped into. The lion attacks him and furiously bites into his throat.
Sumpkempo’s stride is swift and unrelenting as he races the boy through the forest jungle. He sees two shadows through the trees mimicking his every step. Up in the distance he sees the clearing to the great gaping chasm Elianrusel. It is large and very wide. A rope bridge is the only way anyone can pass over. He sees two lions emerge at the same time he and the child emerge from the forest jungle. They block his path to the bridge. He can feel his age taking over again. His strength is fading, and his legs are weak. He closes his eyes for a moment as he seeks one last bit of strength to evade the creatures. The lions roar at him. He takes to flight, running with all his strength. The lions lunge, and he jumps over their heads. He continues to run, as the lions are in close pursuit of him. He reaches behind him and pulls a machete from his clothes. With his last bit of strength, and the lion’s breath upon his neck, he chops into the vines that hold the bridge, leaping ten feet to the ground as the lions, from all their weight, break through and fall into the deep chasm.
Back at the field, the battle continues. All the tribesmen are dead except for Shamalo and Gunapoos. Gunapoos has been fatally wounded and yet is ready to continue. The two lions, one now with a limp, continue to circle around the two. Gunapoos looks to Shamalo and tells him to run as fast and hard as he can to the village. Shamalo looks to his friend, knowing this will be the last time he sees him, and runs as he is told.
A lion leaps from the forest jungle and attacks Shamalo, clawing him in the arm. He continues running and sees more lions emerge. He realizes that evil is with these creatures to bring them into the forest jungle in such a manner. He continues to run and run. He sees the clearing and realizes he is almost to safety. In the distance he hears Gunapoos scream; he now knows his friend is dead. A pack of lions is running close behind him.
Looking to the Elianrusel, he does not see the bridge. He does not panic. He sees a fallen gorangel tree and jumps to it. It is a tree that is very tall and thin; cutting into its already shattered trunk with all his strength he quickly picks it up and runs to the chasm, yelling. The lions are upon him. He sees a rock buried into the ground and jabs the end of the tree into the base and jumps. The tree begins to crack and splinter under his weight as it bends all the way to a breaking point. He eventually begins to gain momentum as the tree springs forward like a sling-shot, hurtling Shamalo into the sky. For a moment, while flying across the dark chasm he looks down and realizes he is now like a bird in flight; there is nothing to harm him. Nonetheless, he sees a lion on the other side waiting for him, crouched and ready to attack once he lands. Reaching behind him, he grabs his long knife. He puts the knife’s blade into his mouth and changes position. The lion, as if having a mind to, realizes the warrior will kill him if he stays where he is. The lion jumps into the air to leap at Shamalo. Shamalo grabs his knife and cuts the lion’s eye as he passes him. The lion falls into the chasm and Shamalo lands safely on the ground.
Shamalo does not hesitate. He keeps running, knowing that dangers still lurk in the jungle. He sees a trail of blood and soon comes across Sumpkempo and the boy. They are dead. Shamalo weeps.
He continues to run toward the village and sees nothing is left. All the huts and houses have been burned to the ground. The village has been razed. All the tribe has been killed their bodies mauled. The king lies among the dead. Shamalo goes to his body and picks him up.
He weeps for his people. No lion, or any other animal for that matter, is seen.
The forest jungles are immense in the land of Mirobi. The hunters of the Winsfinnder tribe slowly descend the foothills of Buundabunna. It is a steep slope always drenched by the rains, making its long blades of grass a death sentence for the hunters that traverse its terrain. An elder by the name of Sumpkempo accompanies the younger hunters though the forest jungle. He is wise to the mountainous perils and versed in the spear, bow, and blade. The hunters; Shamalo, Hinskop, Haaran, Pebranas, Mawu, and Gunapoos have picked up the scent of the guantanos, stealthy creatures of the forest jungle, large and fearsome to many of the denizens that live amongst the overgrowth of the plants and trees that make up the ecosystem.
They have been hunting the whole day, leading them further from their tribe’s location and deeper into the forest jungle. Many of the birds and animals that glide amongst the top of trees leave an echoing sound throughout the jungle ceiling.
As the evening approaches, the sounds become different as the creatures and animals of the day take refuge and the creatures and animals of the night emerge. Haaran has picked up the scent of a merconas, a pig-like creature that is very swift and abundant in the forest jungle. Haaran gestures for Mawu to climb to the top of the pornaka tree. The tree is of average height, a few meters above the ground, but the tops are bushy with figfig leaves. Mawu waits in the darkness of the treetop and spots the merconas. With perfect accuracy, Mawu’s spear shoots cleanly through the merconas as it attempts to sprint away.
The men gather wood to burn for the evening fire. Sumpkempo directs the movement to ensure a timely preparation to partake in the capture and consumption of the merconas. The fire’s embers crackle and pop as the men sit around the fire talking in the native tongue as it is known this day and age. They tell of hunting stories and their love for their people and families. Their laughter can be heard through the forest jungle. The men feast on the final entrails of the merconas and drink from the vinfufu that is found hanging from the timfessa tree’s trunk.
The evening is now quiet, and the tribesmen are now deep in a slumber. One of the tribesmen stands watch over the camp, as he too will gain sleep when his time is over, and he is replaced by another member. The night grows long with only the light emanating from the fire that the guard keeps going by adding wood to it. He sits on a fermoncha leaf, a large leaf taken from its high branches good for wrapping meat in and comfortable to sleep on. It also shields movement, as its surface is composed of fur-like protrusions, and it is limp. That is good for the restless legs and the guard to shift position without making a sound. The guard puffs on a quifilla leaf. The
quifilla is a stimulant and energy enhancer found deep in the wisperoon pits of Sirronas Valley. It is only effective when puffed at constant intervals.
The moon looms over the forest jungle like a lantern in the sky. The men all sleep, even the guard. They all share a common dream of a gift of prosperity for Africa. There are smiles upon their faces as they see their families sharing huts and houses with other tribes. They smile as they see their children’s children run through the swinalu plants chasing the perigeniwallaws with no dangers lurking. However, their dreams are changed into nightmares as a beast clouds heir minds, and their peaceful slumber is replaced with agony. They all roll back and forth as if on fire, yelling out from their sleep. They claw at the ground as if caught in a state of imprisonment. They yell out from their sleep for their families that they now see in distress.
They awaken with sweat pouring from their brows. They look at one another in amazement, knowing that they all dreamed the same dream and fought the same nightmare. They quickly gather their belongings and turn to go back to their tribe hoping to find guantanos somewhere along the way. The journey is now arduous as they all travel silently back, reflecting on the ominous prophecy. They remember their dream and the nightmare that became a beast of great strength able to destroy any that come across its path.
The men begin to emerge from the forest jungle line into an open field that is large and circular. The field is surrounded by the forest jungle on all sides. Sumpkempo looks out into the field with dread. The morning sun sits over the field putting the men in the shadow of the forest jungle’s foliage. The village is but a few kilometers away on the other side. He puts his hand up as the other members of the camp approach behind him. It is a gesture to wait. He closes his eyes and turns his ear toward the sky across the field. Sumpkempo tunes into an ancient skill that only his lineage, and a small portion of the families in other tribes have mastered. There are faint sounds coming from the direction he listens to, however, he cannot make out what it is. He squints to glare through the rays of the sun and rubs his eyes as he looks upon what he believes cannot be real. Above the tree line on the opposite side of the field he sees smoke rising. The other members of the tribe see the smoke as well. One of the men begins to run out toward the field, and Sumpkempo stops him. He puts his finger to his lips to signal that they need to remain silent.
Sumpkempo crouches and silently tells the others to crouch down as well behind the bushes that obscure their presence. The men recognize that the elder is letting them know that they are not alone. They all peruse the terrain amongst the brush and trees. Sumpkempo continues to look out over the trees and is transfixed on the smoke that continues to rise higher into the morning sky.
The longer they wait the more agitated the camp becomes. Sumpkempo senses the other men’s distress. He sits on the ground and beckons the men to sit with him. They sit in a circle holding hands. Sumpkempo closes his eyes and the others do as well. They begin to meditate and speak in tongues. They are calling out to God and the ancestral spirit of strength and cunning as they realize the forces of evil surround them. Sumpkempo begins to shake and his eyes roll back into his head as if he is seizing. The other men begin to shake and their eyes too roll back. They continue to maintain their state of supplication as the shaking grows uncontrollable, beginning to loose their grips from one another. And suddenly it stops. Their heads hang as if they are asleep.
Sumpkempo snaps his head up and sees the men still with their heads down. He stands and hears footsteps as no other would hear. He turns his head to look back through the clearing onto the field. His eyes grow wide and his face shows a fearful expression as he sees the adversary, a lion walking onto the field with a child in its mouth.
“Omnisosis,” Sumpkempo whispers. It is an omen of doom.
The men stir, their eyes yellow. They have tapped into an ancient energy that their tribe is linked to.
Two more lions emerge from the brush. The forward lion walks toward the middle of the field and lays the child on the ground. Sumpkempo gestures to the men, without turning to face them, to take a flanking position in the tree line. Two of them jump to the trees and whisk up into the branches. Two more run as quickly and silently as the two that took to the trees. The remaining two stand behind Sumpkempo. All the men, save Sumpkempo, have been partially transformed into something greater. They wait for their orders.
The lions lick at the child as if tasting or playing with him. The largest lion, the one that carried the child in its mouth, raises his head and roars as if to swallow the child whole.
Sumpkempo raises his hand and lowers it. The men attack. Spears fly from the tree tops with quickness and accuracy impaling the lion as it begins to lower its head revealing its fangs and tongue. The lion cries out as the spears end its life. The other two lions roar as the two tribesmen that flanked their position release their spears, hurtling toward the creatures. The lions step and run to avoid the attack. Jumping from the trees they all run into the opening to face the lions. Sumpkempo stays back, meditating once again.
The tribesmen circle around the lions as the lions look upon them with anger. Their faces twist as they snarl at the men. The two with their spears see the boy lying still. Fearing that he is dead, they throw their spears once again at the lions, hitting one of them and injuring it. They find large sticks that would be heavy to any other and begin to press the lions.
Without hesitating, Sumpkempo, frail from old age, jumps from the bushes with strength in his legs and runs toward where the boy lies, and with a cat-like agility grabs the child without losing stride and whisks him toward the opposite tree line. In an instant they have disappeared. The other tribesmen engage the lions eager to end this battle and reach their homes. They rush the lions swinging the sticks at them. Slamming the end of the stick toward the ground Hinskop leaps high into the air, using the stick as a pole vault. His maneuver is countered by one of the lions, as it too jumps into the air, crashing into him and bringing him down hard to the ground. Hinskop is dead. Pebranas and Mawu lunge at the lion that killed Hinskop. Pebranas jousts at the lion turning its attention to him as Mawu smashes his stick shattering it into splinters across the lion’s spine. The lion roars and jumps at Mawu swiping his claws across his leg. He screams in agony, losing his concentration to the spiritual energy he had tapped into. The lion attacks him and furiously bites into his throat.
Sumpkempo’s stride is swift and unrelenting as he races the boy through the forest jungle. He sees two shadows through the trees mimicking his every step. Up in the distance he sees the clearing to the great gaping chasm Elianrusel. It is large and very wide. A rope bridge is the only way anyone can pass over. He sees two lions emerge at the same time he and the child emerge from the forest jungle. They block his path to the bridge. He can feel his age taking over again. His strength is fading, and his legs are weak. He closes his eyes for a moment as he seeks one last bit of strength to evade the creatures. The lions roar at him. He takes to flight, running with all his strength. The lions lunge, and he jumps over their heads. He continues to run, as the lions are in close pursuit of him. He reaches behind him and pulls a machete from his clothes. With his last bit of strength, and the lion’s breath upon his neck, he chops into the vines that hold the bridge, leaping ten feet to the ground as the lions, from all their weight, break through and fall into the deep chasm.
Back at the field, the battle continues. All the tribesmen are dead except for Shamalo and Gunapoos. Gunapoos has been fatally wounded and yet is ready to continue. The two lions, one now with a limp, continue to circle around the two. Gunapoos looks to Shamalo and tells him to run as fast and hard as he can to the village. Shamalo looks to his friend, knowing this will be the last time he sees him, and runs as he is told.
A lion leaps from the forest jungle and attacks Shamalo, clawing him in the arm. He continues running and sees more lions emerge. He realizes that evil is with these creatures to bring them into the forest jungle in such a manner. He continues to run and run. He sees the clearing and realizes he is almost to safety. In the distance he hears Gunapoos scream; he now knows his friend is dead. A pack of lions is running close behind him.
Looking to the Elianrusel, he does not see the bridge. He does not panic. He sees a fallen gorangel tree and jumps to it. It is a tree that is very tall and thin; cutting into its already shattered trunk with all his strength he quickly picks it up and runs to the chasm, yelling. The lions are upon him. He sees a rock buried into the ground and jabs the end of the tree into the base and jumps. The tree begins to crack and splinter under his weight as it bends all the way to a breaking point. He eventually begins to gain momentum as the tree springs forward like a sling-shot, hurtling Shamalo into the sky. For a moment, while flying across the dark chasm he looks down and realizes he is now like a bird in flight; there is nothing to harm him. Nonetheless, he sees a lion on the other side waiting for him, crouched and ready to attack once he lands. Reaching behind him, he grabs his long knife. He puts the knife’s blade into his mouth and changes position. The lion, as if having a mind to, realizes the warrior will kill him if he stays where he is. The lion jumps into the air to leap at Shamalo. Shamalo grabs his knife and cuts the lion’s eye as he passes him. The lion falls into the chasm and Shamalo lands safely on the ground.
Shamalo does not hesitate. He keeps running, knowing that dangers still lurk in the jungle. He sees a trail of blood and soon comes across Sumpkempo and the boy. They are dead. Shamalo weeps.
He continues to run toward the village and sees nothing is left. All the huts and houses have been burned to the ground. The village has been razed. All the tribe has been killed their bodies mauled. The king lies among the dead. Shamalo goes to his body and picks him up.
He weeps for his people. No lion, or any other animal for that matter, is seen.
Tags: africa
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Permalink Reply by Carla M. Cherry on -
Brent,
This is an interesting chapter. It was both suspenseful and descriptive. I am curious about the premise of your book, and look forward to seeing more of your work.
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Permalink Reply by Brent Mason on -
Hello Carla. Thanks for your response. The story is part biblically spiritual; part philosophy and part African heritage among many other themes such as racism, oppression, dictatorship, poverty, greed, hope, war, peace, and so and so forth.
Biblically it references 2 Samuel 23:20 based on Benaiah who slew two lion-like men of Moab. It is an awesome account of the strength of God through man.
The philosophical portion is based on wisdom through God to be able to distinguish between having power and strength but knowing how to use it and not abuse it. Not necessarily physical endowment, but more of leading a people that look up to one in a strong position of authority. This theme is expressed throughout the book through the various characters whether they be the antagonist or protagonist.
The heritage theme is based on how many tribes have an oral history that is passed to generation to generation. Many look at oral history sort of looking at a secret passed down a line, and the further it is passed along the more skewered it may become. When it gets to the last person it isn't what was said by the first person whether it was manipulated accidentally or purposedly, the message will eventually be revealed in its truth to the last person from the first person.
Hence, the story centers around a prophecy from the first tribes. The tribes sought to gain power through the spirits of the lands. However, the tribes could never learn to coexist and were constantly warring. Eventually, they sought out the spirits but the spirits were at odds with each other. Once the spirits were released a calamity fell upon the people causing a great upheaval of the lands scattering the tribes.
The story then focuses on the modern times and three young African boys. It follows their lives up to adults as they become part of the prophecy. The chapter posted is one of the early chapters. It gets better as the story progresses.
Thanks for taking the time to read.
-Brent
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Permalink Reply by Brent Mason on
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Thanks Afrika. I appreciate your comments.
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Permalink Reply by Diane on -
Great post Brent. How do you categorize the genre of this piece? Fantasy? Speculative? I'd like to introduce this to some of my book club members.
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Permalink Reply by Brent Mason on
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Hey Diane. It is a supernatural storyline. So I guess you could say speculative fiction.
I appreciate you and this website.
Sincerely,
Brent
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