1 - Marakusha.

Chapter 1 (Marakusha.)

Very early at dawn today, Tsote and the rest of the boy woke up to the sound of thundering drums. The sound of the drum was a common signal for all the Kurotandi boys to leave their shelters in haste and converge at the training field. Usually they were informed where they would converge the day before. 

Therefore, they knew where… today they converge at the center of the M’zowa training field. Today would be the third and very last time they would to train in the M’zowa field. And then the Kurotandi training would end. The M’zowa training grounds were a very old place with three larger dry trees with long spreading branches. The branches spread out for about fifty feet or more while the tip of the trees towered for about seventy feet high.

They were a legendary but also very rare type of trees called the M’zowa. In the past, Kuoka guardians of the different animal kingdoms used them as living and defensive territory boarder markings. When things went wrong in what was termed as the ‘Ancient imbalance’ the trees went into a slumber.

Later humans found them and because of their faces and strange healing fruits, humans termed them jungle elders in addition to using them as tribes’ territorial boundary marks. They believed the trees moved but were asleep due to the ancient imbalance. However, they too responded violently to Yakunko males’ blood because they were in possession of an unnatural Kurota.

Today they were to face these trees in a challenge requiring them to retrieve three bark-cloths dipped in Olko blood and tied to a stick pined in the wet ground on the other side of the field.

They challenge was to cross through the trees’ branches the other side of the field using their Kurota form. They would pick up a piece of bark cloth from a large calabash filled with Yakunko Blood. Thereafter return it to the base in teams ensuring they did not lose it or they crushed by the tree branches. Why? The trees respond violently to the smell of Yakunko blood because Yakunko blood awoke something memorable and bitter about their past. A drop of blood against their bark seemingly awakened the spirit in them. 

The Kurotandi boys began with tying pieces of different colored cloths to their head to symbolize the different teams. They would paste their bodies with some white paste mixed with sap extracted from these very trees pounded together in a gourd. 

Tsote’s biggest worry about this challenge is the rules. Everyone was required to manifest their Kurota to be able to survive the challenge and as we know, Tsote couldn’t manifest his. The Kurota was swift and steady even when the branches moved against the boys. 

He did not possess his Kurota but Renso insisted that he remained a team member through the challenge no matter what! He was afraid! He has braved through so many other challenges that did not require the use of the Kurota and stood out as the best always.

After his total failure in this challenge, he feared he might break one of his limbs or ribs whenever this challenge came. He always fell before even reaching half way across. The mockery he received from the other Kurotandi boys angered him and made him hate everything about the whole training. 

On the first day of this challenge, Tsote remembers he contemplated running away from Marakusha before even the day of the Kurotandi games arrived. Nevertheless, he remembers he thought hard about the decision! Where exactly would he go and how far would he run when he knew no one beyond river Ulewo or the south!

He hated the fact that he would never challenge the other boys who possessed their Kurota. His balance and swiftness was limited. At this moment his mind raced. The master of the Kurotandi was speaking and giving instructions with a loud voice. Tsote’s mind was far such that he could hear almost nothing. He looked up into the trees. Memories of the recent challenge against the M’zowa trees were still as fresh because his side still hurt from the fall. Hair on his arms rose as a breeze of morning wind passed.

 The master of the games instructed them forwards, Tsote remembers he was a lot more careful. He had to reach the Tree’s main trunk unlike the challenge before. This would show progress even without his Kurota. When a branch swayed fast towards him, he recalls he was quick to dodge it. He either jumped to let it pass under or crouched. 

This time he would not dodge. The size of the branch come his way was twice the ones he normally dodged. This time he needed to jump down onto another. If not he would fall to the ground and lost all his marks. 

As the branch passed, he dove and landed well. Only he did not know M’boguku had seen him survive! He dared to stand up and run forwards unlike the rest who were on all four limbs. He remembers, he was left with five steps to touch the main tree trunk when M’boguku swayed past scaring him out of balance. He remembers M’boguku did not touch him but made a threat the likes someone about to kick makes. 

Tsote’s heart skipped! He panicked shield himself from the fake kick, only to lose his balance. The last thing he heard as he fell was M’boguku chuckling away followed by a few of the other boys. That happened in last week’s M’zowa challenge.

This was just one of the many times M'boguku teased him for no good reason. Not until his sister, Makita revealed; 

“He hates that you are better than any of them in all the other challenges where the Kurota isn’t required…”

“But I have not hurt anyone. There are rule…”

“I knowww.” Makita responded. “I think I need to tell father again…”

“He won’t listen to you still… never the first time.”

“There is always a way…” Makita responded. The village storyteller made this statement on so many occasions.

Whenever the master of the Kurotandi motioned Tsote and M'boguku forwards in a one on one combat challenge, M'boguku normally let out his Kurota with much envy. Truth is no one could stop him apart from Renso himself. Using the Kurota against another in Combat training. This earned him many punishments but he seemed less minded.

 When they weren’t training and M’boguku attempted to approach him, Makita was never far. She normally rushed in like a savior interrupting the whole clash. She was very mindful of him and M’boguku did not like it. What he must have known is his approaches improved Tsote and Makita’s closeness and friendship. 

 Everyone in Marakusha Knew Tsote. The boy, the only boy whose Kurota has never manifested! Tsote was always grateful to her. On other occasions when the boys bullied him and Makita was not around to help, Tsote would walk to the river offended and sad. While there, he would sit to watch the river flow by.

Still today morning, everyone must use his Kurota! Tsote's greatest fear this time was not the lack of his Kurota but  M’boguku Iteti and  his attitude towards him! They stood side by side in one long line. Even though  M’boguku Iteti was six counts away on his left, Tsote felt like he was next to him. The master of the Kurotandi games had his back on them.

"K'Unko..." Tsote heard a long silent whisper from his left. His immediate neighbor giggled and two others on his right glanced a side at him. Tsote's felt angry trying to ignore. He bent slightly forwards to glance at M’boguku who focused up front and with such an expressionless and solid face. 

That is when Renso, their master glanced back and in their direction. His look was as sharp as the edge of the Vulko war arrow. The Vulko were a mysterious, beautiful, magical and very intelligent species of people from the depths of the great eastern sea. The Vulko people were very secretive. Very few elders claimed they ever saw one them. The only tales there are about them find their link to the ancient 'Inka' wars when the Yakunko came into possession of the Inka stone. Still, everything about them is taken for mere fairy tales.

Nevertheless, for all the times he has trained Tsote, there is not a single day he remembers seeing him smile! Under him, he doesn't remember the day he saw him smile or laugh. Quickly, everyone looked straight ahead with total pretense. Tsote steals a quick glance at  M’boguku Iteti and  like last time, a twinge of fear mixed with total dislike rushed. He knew very well this to be an impossible challenge and would eventually break him if he did not run front it! 

They soon lunged forwards just like last time. Everyone soon transformed into their Kurota. Tsote saw them swing away through the branches with such experience unlike that they were in the very first M’zowa tree challenges. However, the Kurotandi boys were careful enough not to fall down because whoever did, the rules required them to return to the starting point all over. This, one had to do as fast as they could in addition to doing this challenge thrice a day.

Apart from the fallen expected to race backward to the starting point, no one else was supposed to use the ground. The trees loomed high before them. Once every teammate had the paste from the pot smeared on different parts of their bodies, they made one long line. Renso examined them from one end. Next, he requested the five captains to step forwards with their left palm held out open.

Two elder warriors one holding a small calabash and another a blade, went through collecting a drop or two of blood from each of the captains. Thereafter, the two men return the blood to the master of the Kurotandi who walked forwards, took out his bow and arrow and took aim at a spot on the tree’s trunk not far from the ground. The trees’ trunks were scar marked all the way round from past M’zowa tree challenges. Tsote watched him take aim!

******

Many said Renso was once the best Archer the Yakunko army ever heard of. Renso kept much about his past confidential! One of the least things everyone knew about his past was his bow talent. When King O’mondo sat on the throne after his father, Renso was ranked Commander of the Kurotandi huntsmen.

 The she Kurotandi huntsmen worked with the different Yakunko community elders to ensure the splitting of Yakunko baby girls from their Kurotas. The She Kurotandi hunts men were then responsible for hunting down those few Yakunko girls whose families chose to raise with their Kurotas against Yakunko traditions.

His rank fit him because the hunts men were mainly archers. What ended his career was a Yakunko war accident, which cost him his right arm along with his bow talent. In addition to that, his Kurota refrained from manifesting.

 His lost his pride and confidence in himself. His arms would contact a strange illness, which had him disappear from community, traveling by foot across the empire in search for a healer. This took him years and when he found a healer, he returned to Marakusha. However, those who knew him before said he was never the same man he was ever again.

Some said he was a man living in fear of what he had become! And one sure thing, he treasured him honors as the greatest archer of this generation even though his name was close to faded. He felt like an impotent man. He wish to revive his talent and glory so many times but in vain. He disappeared from the public for some years to find help and healing.

He found it and when he returned to Marakusha five years later, the Warrior council ranked him Master of the Kurotandi games due to his past bravery and name. He never rejected the honor despite the shame he felt in the fading of his bow talent and Kurota.

He hoped serving as Master of the Kurotandi would help revive who he was before but this has proven unsuccessful over the past eight to nine years. It hurt but much of this pain, he dared never show while doing his job. The only time when someone glimpsed bits of fear and hate of self was when he took up his bow and arrow. Raised them for a target such as the one he was trying to take this moment.

Obviously, he had regained a bit of his former talent over the past few years as master of the Kurotandi training and so rarely missed his target. He no longer trusted his target and this moment, he worried that he would miss the target. While he made any of these targets, he whispered the Yakunko motto to himself like a prayer. 

‘With me reigns the gift of ancient.

I am an Ascendant of the great Oladiya. 

Klode’s Wheel of glory and honor. 

I am reborn from the ashes of the Kirimanjo flames. 

My sight ordained the beacon of hope among the living, 

The Yakunko above all. 

I am Yakunko, gift of the ancient Inka.”

The same Motto, the Kurotandi teams recited daily whenever they would start their training. Tsote alone would read the motto off the masters lips because they rather were the same without their Kurota.

"...you are the Kurota, gift of the I’nka, shield of the living. Embrace your fear and your Kurota will manifest for your own good child." Renso normally told Tsote whenever the boys were expected to manifest their Kurota. They shared this failure but the master pitied Tsote because unlike him, the boy’s Kurota has never manifested even once!

Tsote glanced focused on the master’s lips and this is when he started the chant on behalf of the other boy. “I am the Kurota…” Renso heard Tsote’s voice rise above his whispering. In three seconds, a surge of strength and confidence started to consume his whole body. The shivering in his arms began to cease when the rest of the Kurotandi boys joined into the chant. Renso’s grip strengthened and his aim perfected.

 The arrow left his grip for the target. At this moment Tsote recalled one of his most adorable moments with Thalko, the man he called father. He remembers Thalko made him promise never to let anyone know. 

“Father, I promise… I will never tell anyone.” Tsote Promised.

“Not even Makita…” Thalko responded. Tsote gave him a quire look.

“But she is my best friend…”

“You have to promise…”

“Okay…”

“What you are going through is no different from what your master is… Renso and I grew up together like best friends. My father was master of the Kurotandi in Sambura before Marakusha became the major Kurotandi village. However, after the Final Kurotandi games; he selected Renso as captain of the She Kurotandi hunt in Marakusha. He rose through the ranks until he became commander of all She Kurotandi hunts in the whole of the Yakunko Empire.”

“Then why does he shiver whenever he uses the bow and arrow.” Tsote asked.

“He was the best archer in the empire until he got an accident…” Thalko told him. This and everything else I have mentioned earlier about the master of the Kurotandi training.

“Everyone thought it was a curse and that he would never heal from it…” Thalko said adding. “But as a friend, I believed there was an answer out there somewhere. The King had ranked me commander of all his Yakunko warriors and it was in my greatest honor to relive him of his responsibilities. He needed to find healing which he did...”

“How?”

“When the Kurotandi games end..., will be a great time to ask him. He was gone for a period of five years.”

“I remember his first mission as Captain of the Marakusha She Kurotandi hunt’ men. My sister was raised in secret with her Kurota. She was discovered shortly after the end of the Kurotandi games and she was his very first mission.”

“Did he kill her?”

“He told me he did not. But he neither let me know whether someone else killed her…” Thalko told Tsote.

“However, Renso returns to Marakusha five years later with my sister a blind woman then. No longer a girl!

“What was your sister’s name…?”

“Erusa.”

Tsote’s eye went wide open…

“Do you mean Mama Erusa; the storyteller is your Sister?” Tsote asked strongly with great disbelief.

“My only sister…” Thalko responded.

“But…”

“You were turning five years old when she returned to Marakusha. To her brother who loved her so dearly. But there was something weird about her new self.”

“I can’t say but it wasn’t the little adorable sister I knew… but I was glad to meet them both! They were enemies in the past due to the rules of the hunt. She hated him and he cared not. Seeing the two together again created so many questions which nether of the two ever answered. And I wasn’t going to force things…”

“But you are friends…”

“Practically like brothers but at times there are some few things you must keep to yourself. Not for your sake but for the safety of those you trust to tell.” Thalko taught him this.

“When I came up to her, her eyes were as white…” Thalko added. “AIl I needed was to touch her face, look deep into her eyes to know she was the one I always knew… but…”

“But she was blind…” Tsote responded. Thalko was quiet as though it hurt to utter.

“She was no-longer my sister.” Thalko broke the silence.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s complicated son. “Thalko replied turning to him slightly. “And you must continue like I told you. Never to get near her, never to speak to her. Never! For my sake!” 

The rest Tsote heard from Makita earlier in one of their friendly conversations. 

She said, “-when Renso returned to Marakusha Father honored him with the title -Master of the Kurotandi so as to help him revive his talents and honor.” 

Renso never told no one about any of these things but Tsote knew close to half of everything about his condition. Thalko highly respected him as much as the Kurotandi young warriors did. What most of the Kurotandi boy did not see was Renso being so mindful of Tsote. He minded about how he faired through Kurotandi training as if Thalko gave him specific instructions. Nevertheless, Tsote’s training was a challenge to both Renso and Tsote himself! 

“I don’t remember when he started making me part of his business… but he is always there in most unexpected places and moments.” Tsote told Makita once.

 This was on one of those usual days when he went down to sit by the river exhausted and depressed rom daily bullying. He was pocking as some strange colored rock in the banks of the river when he thought he saw someone standing openly on top some rock three yards down the river. 

Whoever it was, the fog that descends from the Olko hill concealed much of him. Tsote recalls blinking hard! 

“Next glance he was gone like a ghost.” He told Makita. 

“But you don’t really know if it was him, master Renso…”

“The figure?” came Tsote. “I know Master Renso more than you think I know.”

“Mmmh! Tell me…”

Tell you?” came Tsote remembering her father requested him never to say anything to anyone. “Tell you. The, the what…?”

“I just feel like Master Renso is spying on me…”

“Then ask him…” Makita told him quickly.

“Can you?” Tsote asked blankly turning to her so quickly.

“Haha. That man is freaky. I fear him.” Makita responded. “… but you can also ask his daughter Sakitha.”

“We don’t learn sign language in the Kurotandi training. You can ask her for me…” Tsote excused himself. “…best I don’t ask because she will tell him anyway. And…”

“You are a coward…” Makita teased him.

“Me?” came Tsote. “I don’t think so. Your brother is…”

“That’s a lie!” Makita popped. 

“He cannot survive where there are rules.”

The first rule was never to use the Kurota on a teammate who wasn’t transformed into their Kurota state. No one violated this rule more than M’boguku did. His major problem was his ego, pride and arrogance. The Kurota in its first stages of manifest was untamed. In its early stages of manifest, it recognized no one. Not even its host. Everyone had to learn how to tame their gift Kurota. It was just a bitter, brutal and very unfriendly state at its manifestation. Learning would take months and seasons. 

The moment Renso released the arrow, and its head burrowed into the bark of the M’zowa tree, the Wind started to change. It was blowing from all directions clashing with the trees. Amidst the rising of the dust, the sound of drums was heard in a different tune.

 Tsote was terrified when the teams started forwards in what would be the last of the M’zowa training. He was the last to move. When he did, M'boguku started running in a slant towards him. Tsote saw him closing in from the left but the moment M’boguku’s Kurota started taking form, Tsote saw a large branch the likes of large fingers sweep towards him high from the right. He bent low to get out of the way of a long branch, which was swiping down at them like many fingers. 

Thankfully, the branch missed him merely by an inch and hit M’boguku who saw it late. He was quick enough to hold onto the branch not to fall into a violent network of other branches. The challenge gets tense and may not be good getting wordy with all the details. In brief, this was Tsote’s worst challenge ever!

Today they trained only in the morning and n the eneving, they would rest. As he leaves training back to shelter, he clashes with Sakitha N’meru and Makita, his best friends. Sakitha N’meru was Renso’s only child and was around four years older than he and Makita.

That night he had bruise all over. His arm hurt from a muscle-pull and he moved uneasily.

Just like the last challenge, he never made it across to the other side but half of the boys managed to. What he recalls was he strained to get beyond his last target and in the end; he fell to the ground and lost his consciousness. After this, he came to believe by all means he was a qualified ‘K’Unko’. And when the Kurotandi games began three days from now, what was he to become?

Tomorrow the third season of the year would begin. Many times Parents from other Yakunko Villages would start arriving with their ten-year-old male children to sign them into the Kurotandi training program. This was made on papyrus reeds, which were then taken to Sambura the main city. There they would be stared into warrior’s class archives. 

Renso was responsible for recruiting these male children with a marking on their left shoulder. The Kurota would manifest and as it did, the mark would change form tested the child’s talent. The discovery of his talent determined which Kurotandi team he deserved to join.