"for the beauty of the rose, we also water the thorns."
Descendant of Loa lineage, Karliah Shango stems from masters of Haitian and the old Oyo Empire Vodou. After the nuclear wipe out, she finds herself thrown into leadership with little comprehe...
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"Damballah, beni lespri bondye, lead his soul and carry him, ayibobo."
The beat of drums found melody alongside ivory horns, bellowing harmoniously as the the hougan spoke his peace. Members of every division blended in amongst each other in white clothing, mourning the loss of Kweku Shango.
Several men and women wailed, their cries echoing beyond the music and chants of traditional songs. The people of the kingdom approached the casket one by one, many setting their loa offerings upon the candle lit steps, placing fruits, liquors, and flowers in front of the casket.
Karliah sat in her throne, seated several feet from her grandfather's casket. She watched alongside her mother and father as well as the division leaders, continuously greeted with the recycled hug and pity-filled expression. She'd lost count of the amount of times she'd been told she was being prayed for, every apology becoming less and less empathetic. Although, she was finding it difficult to hear anything past her thoughts.
It would only be a matter of time before having to choose someone worthy enough of filling her grandfather's shoes, a task that would be anything was simple. Not only would she be forced to find someone capable enough of leading the White Division, but she'd also have to face the reality of accepting the fact that her grandfather was truly gone.
There was also the added on weight of Papa Legba's warning that'd boggled her mind, leaving her desperate for an answer. Not to mention she barely found time to sleep the night before, ridden with nightmares full of blood and snakes.
"My Larenn," a woman's voice drawled softly. Karliah snapped out of her thoughts, looking up to meet the face of an older woman with beady eyes and dreadlocks bundled up in a head wrap. Her aged hands squeezed Karliah's, her rings digging into her delicate fingers.
"I apologize for your loss, dear," her voice wavered as her hands then squeezed the young girl's shoulders. Karliah offered her a pressed smile, nodding slowly. Before she could thank her, she spoke once again, "I lost my mother when I was young, granted I was but a child and didn't remember but it had a toll on my father for sure," she rambled.
Karliah blinked, a breathy chuckle passing her lips as she nodded along. The old woman's voice suddenly began to fade, as a familiar Loa caught her eye.
Papa Legba watched her from the large entrance of the church, a smile growing wide on his lips before he turned around with ease, making his way down the hall. She frowned, pulling away from the old woman as she stood immediately, ignoring the beckoning of her parents as she rushed down the stairs and past the crowd.
The hum of music and chanting soon faded from her ears as she marched down the hall, finding Legba at the end of it. Before she could reach him, he turned right, disappearing around the corner.
