Daughter of the moon, Son of blood

This is what I've been taught, the way I see the world around me, the undiscriminating perspective carved out of my psychology, one that sees one clear picture. Power and absolute power lies in the hands of those who've earned it. Light is not the absence of darkness, but the acknowledgement of it not being relevant for as long as the opposite tarry. What I am implying is that everyone has a darkness, and all it takes is one temptation to force it out. And in this reality, do not make the mistake of thinking light and darkness are equal forces. In the vastness of the universe, light is the tenant, and darkness is the landlord.

A young, beautiful grey-haired lady walks by a stream in a forest, with a sword attached to her back, and a machete on her other hand, using it in cutting through the weeds obstructing her movement. Her feet is dusty, suggesting she had been walking for long. Her dreads have weed and spikes tangled in them, suggesting she had been walking through the bushes for as long as she has been walking. Getting to the stream, she bows, taking out an empty keg. She deeps it into water and fetches. She drinks, and refills the keg again. She looks at the slight cut on her arm and washes off the blood, with a facial look like the wound doesn't hurt. This lady is unlike any other in the land, only lady by physique, but a man in virtually everything else, with scars to testify. She deeps her hand in her bag and takes out a herb which she places on the cut and speaks a little incantation, 'death brings life'. The herb glows beneath her palm, and the wound closes up. She stands up, takes a look around and then drops her sword. She strips herself off her native clothes and beads and goes into the water, naked, for a quick bath. Even the birds of the air stand still, staring at the perfection of a woman's shape, a woman not only beautiful on the face, but with the right curves, and every part of her enchanting body in the right proportion. She gently washes from her face down towards her breasts, revealing a tattoo on the left one, Looking like a sickle moon, a rare one only worn by special ladies known as the moonwalkers, with beauty to hypnotize and talent to kill. Who would dare to gaze at the treasures of the moon? Lest his manhood be offered to Luna to appease her rage. The young lady senses someone behind her and turns immediately, seeing another maiden dressed similarly to her attire, also possessing a sword.

" It is true what they say, nothing on earth is more beautiful than the butterfly herself", says the lady stalking the bathing one who speaks,

" Identify yourself!"

" Relax moonwalker, I am just like you."

" There is nothing like me across all realms of existence. "

" Is that what you tell yourself moonwalker? Do not confuse being odd with being special. You might have two hearts but still feel pain like every other mortal."

" Identify yourself"

" I am Umar of Urom, I am a moonwalker."

"You look like one, but do not have such character. "

" I can tell that presently, your leg is beneath a rock underwater, of which you're ready to strike towards me because you still believe that I am a threat"

" Anyone with a talent of assault could figure that out, it still doesn't make you stand out."

" Perhaps this does."

Umar lowers her clothe, revealing a tattoo on her breast, similar to that of the bathing lady. Umar continues speaking,

" They would say it is drawn by Luna herself during our graduation. In reality, they simply drug us with the right potions that make us hallucinate, seeing what we have been taught to believe."

The bathing lady's doubt is reduced and she takes her leg off the rock beneath the water, while Umar covers her fruits.

" You do not expect me to introduce myself to you, it is not the way of a true moonwalker."

" You needn't do so, I know who you are, Rona of Ti'gen, called the Butterfly by those who have testified to your beauty and found nothing worthy enough to describe you."

" I am more than just a butterfly."

" You go by many names, the Crow, Elimi Arine (blood spirit). They say your beauty makes you lethal."

" That's the definition of a moonwalker."

Rona walks out of the water, cleans herself and starts dressing up.

" We are forged to be the most

dreaded versions of ourselves. Everything we have is weaponized, even our hair. Tell me, what brings you to me?"

" Onelo put me on an assignment to Kalakala. When I heard that you passed through Ode village, I decided to pay you a visit."

" You abandoned your mission just to see the Butterfly?"

" No Rona, I completed my mission and came to see you."

" And what was your mission?"

" To severe the tongue of Kalakala's impotent king."

" How many herbs did you use on your skin?"

" About twelve leaves. Things got messy, but Luna fought with me."

" Luna doesn't fight with anyone. Every sword strike you deliver, every fist you throw, it's all you."

" If Onelo were to hear you, she would offer your tongue to the goddess to appease her anger."

" Luna is too lazy to fight for herself, that's why she has us, moonwalkers. That is fact."

" Mind your words Butterfly, or I would be forced to act. No one blasphemes Luna."

Rona holds up her sword, with a feisty smile and replies,

" Clearly you do not know me."

Umar draws her sword and leaps towards Rona with a solid strike of which Rona blocks with her bracelet and flings off. She throws another strike but Rona strikes it off with her sword and exchanges more sword clashes. Rona deflects Umar's sword down and steps her leg on it, draws out a dagger from Umar's weapon belt and stabs her on the hand. Umar gets angry and immediately, her eyes turn flamy. She channels great energy into the blade and flings Rona off, elevating her as she sumasults on air in a brilliant stunt and stands.

" You are loose, summoning your chaos so soon. True moonwalkers reserve their chaos. Onelo would discard a person like you. I know why you're here. You've been told I am somewhat better, and you came to challenge me, you want to prove yourself that you're more than just a new servant of the great course."

" They say you can see true a person, seems they were also right about that."

" Maybe. You're tempting to kill, but I am on leave. I'm not in the mood to kill today."

Umar charges towards Rona, spinning on the air, delivering several sword strike combinations very fast and swift, of which Rona is able to counter, matching Umar's speed. You might think this is excess, like they're overreacting. That's what moonwalkers are trained to do, fight every fight like their life depends on it. In such an archaic and dangerous world, the impossible is relative to man's day to day activities. Umar has just picked a fight with a dangerous opponent. Moonwalkers are trained to kill the best, survive the worst, without their chaos. With their chaos, they're something else, stronger, faster, brighter. Umar has decided to play her game unfairly, but not for the butterfly moonwalker. For her, this is merely a warm up exercise.

Umar attacks with a terrible punch of which Rona stops, surprising her. She surges great energy through her fingers and strikes Umar on the chest, blasting her to a tree. Before she can recover from the hit, Rona dashes towards her, kicking her off the tree and placing her sword on her neck. Umar leaves her chaos, bleeding from her mouth as Rona speaks to her,

" You are new to this life. Do not rush it. Besides, there is no glory in being a daughter of Luna."

Rona keeps her sword, picks up her bag, machete and keg, and hits the road, leaving Umar to eventually recover and return to where she came from. You must wonder who this Rona is, the butterfly, how she got to become what she is. It isn't a story to be told in one day. The life of Rona of Ti'gen has always been clouded in twisted fate. She might be a moonwalker, but right now, she seeks closure.

Quick introduction, this is all set in the archaic times of African history (fiction), before the arrival of the colonial people. In this era, there were no countries, no states, no education, not as you know it. There was just kingdoms and villages, in the vast land known as Bloodrock. In Bloodrock, life is as savage as it can get, with a kill or be killed code, and so many factions, physical or magical, fighting for power and dominance. In this generation of great conflict and sorcery, the moonwalkers exist to maintain balance between all factions,a task beyond throwing magical fists or chopping off heads. For these special maiden servants of Luna, they bridge the physical and supernatural. Just as many find the moonwalkers to be quite fascinating, there are others who do not see eye to eye with the maidens. One of them is a famous and powerful kingdom, Arida, of whose king had lately passed away, leaving a son to take his place, Prince Dilis. Today is his coronation, and a lot of people are gathered in the palace, with not all of them excited for the coronation of the son of a tyrant who is ready to do three times his father's doing. Prince Dilis walks fiercely through an isle towards the throne room, flanked by notable officials, Kingsmen and military officials. A priest awaits him, with a bowl by his right, containing human blood. The prince gets to the priest and kneels before all eyes. The priest gives a cruel smile and begins the coronation,

" People of Arida, the day of fulfillment is here, the future is in our midst, before all eyes. We are here to witness the final installation of the soon to be king of the land, the man to take up his father's mantle and live on his legacy in a better standard, a mantle passed from generation to generation. Gudi, Ereta, the gods bear witness to the anointing of the prince, Dilis of Arida, son of Dilas. "

The priest, by name Galguntan, deeps his finger into the bowl and makes an x sign on the prince's tongue. He continues the ritual,

" Gudi, god of might and wisdom, accept your humble servant's plea for support, and bath our new king in the blood of his enemies."

The atmosphere soon starts turning dark, scaring a few people. And then, the blood in the bowl floats up, right above Dilis, and pours on his head, covering him in blood. This has always been the sign, that any new King of Arida has the backings of the gods. There was a time when the people would see this as a fundamental and marvelous display of Gudi's presence and power. But now, many see this unseen god as corrupt and cruel, for he aids the hands of the cruel and punish the innocent. No, not in Bloodrock, no one is innocent.

The new king arises, facing his people, with a wicked grin, and a sword on his left hand. Galguntan speaks aloud,

" Arida, I present to you, your new ruler, King Dilis."

Everyone bows with fear in their eyes as one of his generals command,

" Hail to the King Dilis"

Everyone choruses,

" Hail to the King."

King Dilis raises his hand and hushes everyone, giving himself room to address the people.

" People of Arida, just as death brings life, the demise of a king brings the rise of another. This is not a time to mourn. We've cried enough. My father was stone, I will be metal. My father tamed beasts, I will tame the devil. I will fulfill the legacy of all of our fathers, expansion...and domination. We will send messages to the ten kingdoms, tasking them with providing ten virgins each for the blood sacrifice Gudi requests after every coronation. This is a duty to be done, a necessary action, an action of righteousness and purification. Praise to Gudi."

Everyone responds,

" Praise to Gudi."

Gudi, the god who requests human sacrifice for long life, the one who commands war for peace. This deity is the definition of a demon, but Bloodrock is long past the time they could tell the difference between a god and a demon.

Somewhere in a small town, a little boy is running through the neighborhood, holding some fruits, heading to his home. He gets into a hut and meets an old blind man and speaks,

" Here are the fruits Blind Seer. Now you can tell me my fate. Do I become a rich farmer or warrior as my mother wishes me to be?"

The old man takes the fruits from the boy and laughs mildly, followed by a cough. He speaks,

" Such a young fellow, why trouble yourself with knowledge of your future?"

" Come on Seer, that wasn't the deal. I brought you the fruits and you promised to tell my fortune. Honour your word, or have the gods taken away your gift?"

The old seer laughs and replies,

" Okay, but you should be aware that a seer sometimes does not speak in detail. Show me your hand."

" Since when do you need to see palms to tell fortune? I thought you can simply see when you want to."

" I thought so too, but the world is changing fast, a lot of forces are adjusting to the coming conflict. For this reason, I need to reserve my virtue at times and go basic. Now, let me see your palm and what lies within."

The boy gives his palms to the Seer and he holds it. Immediately, his eyes glow white and he speaks with a smile,

" Your journey is rough and uncertain, but I see light at the end of the tunnel. You will be a warrior, and then retire to be a farmer."

The boy smiles and responds,

" I knew it, I knew I would be great."

" That's the tricky part of it. Knowing your future makes it more difficult to achieve. You must thread with caution."

" Noted Seer. What were you saying about the earth changing?"

" The spheres are revolving towards a new path, a transformation of the entire world order. The sky is pregnant, not for rain, but for blood."

" This is Bloodrock, it smells blood."

" Not like what I see, absolute carnage, great darkness, several forces clashing, its overwhelming. But there still might be hope for the land, and its someone, or some people. Who could this be?"

" I do not get you. Your words are strange."

" The fate of our land rests on someone, the Sentinel, and this sentinel is hidden."

" The Sentinel, the one you always tell me about. Is it time for him to be born?"

The blind seer does not reply this question. He simply smiles and recites a poem,

" Pray to the sun

Dance to the moon

Sing for fire

Cry for rain

The heavens are falling."