The Legend of the Seeker II

I felt sedate again, just like the other times: after I watched my grandmother die and after I beheaded the "amili" priestess. I shivered in fear as I looked at what I had done. The machete in my hand was dripping blood and on the floor lay two lifeless bodies. I killed the king! The queen joined him in the great beyond when she wouldn't stop screaming for help.

My heart began to race, the hair at the back of my neck stood up and I faded again. By the time I jerked back to reality, the whole palace was covered in red. I had killed every single inhabitant including children in another fit. The bodies of the palace guards littered the ground and the paths along the palace seemed to be unusually deserted.

I was still wondering what was going on when I blanked out yet again. This time I struggled not to fall into sleep but a hand pulled me away from my body. My body went angrily into the village and killed everything that breathed. Every creeping being, every tree, every farmland, in fact every living thing died by my hand. 

For the first time i saw my body do the things I was responsible for. In a split second, my body came back to where I watched helplessly and I felt the same hand push me back into it. I woke up sweating, this time my arms and legs ached. The entire village was desolate.

I was scared, I didn't know what to do. Everyone was dead, every tree was uprooted, every animal laid lifeless. I threw the accursed machete onto a pile of bodies and went to the stream for a thorough wash. I left the massacre and headed down south towards Izundu. Perhaps this was a chance to visit the famed no-go area.

The people of Izundu used to be very weak and were vassal to our village despite their access to better weapons. Their luck changed when they accepted the white man's god: they defeated our cavalry with just 30 men. The great men of our village fell in battle like over-ripe mangoes even though the men of Izundu didn't throw a spear or raise a machete.

From that day on, everyone feared Izundu and the white man's god. Nobody ever stepped foot in Izundu again. We were forbidden to marry from them or trade with them. I had heard tales of the white man's god and I hoped to seek refuge in him, deep down I hoped he was real.

After walking for 3 days and 3 nights, I finally set my eyes on a compound; the sight alone strengthened my weary legs. I saw baby-strapping women pounding the foo-foo and the grey bearded men drank lots of palmwine, laughing loudly as they told tales to the dreamy eyed youngsters that surrounded them. People walked about beaming with smiles, dressing strangely and carrying big black things; everyone seemed happy.
Full of hope I approached a teenage boy who was dressed in funny clothes and asked him where the white man's god was. The boy looked surprised but pointed eastwards and mumbled 'Revren'.