Edge of the mountain's cliff
- Reads 32
- Votes 2
- Parts 1
Have you ever imagined what being an African in the early nineteenth century would be like?
What it'd be like being an African completely oblivious of any colonial masters?
Fighting your own wars and telling your own love story?
Well you'd be surprised at what spectacular story our Hero has to tell.
Tall and slightly masculine, light skinned for his kinsmen, he is most at times called a Demi-God and some other times, well he is called Cursed. Traditional inkings and tattoos almost on every inch of his body parts visible to the human eyes. Blue eyes balls, yes! Blue eyeballs, a lot run scare at one glance from him and lot others idolize him:they call him "descendant of the gods". He inherited the strength of the gods from his spiritual mother Mmammiri and the caring heart vulnerable to love from his earthly mother Nwaorie. He came into the human world and his father disappeared. So the people ambivalently calls him both good and bad. He is a feared warrior of Igboukwu and his name is Nnabuife.
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𝑬𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝑻𝒐 𝒀𝑯𝑾𝑯
ᴰᴼ ᵞᴼᵁ ᵂᴬᴺᵀ ᵀᴼ ᴷᴺᴼᵂ ᴹᵞ ˢᵀᴼᴿᵞ? "Kenneth." He kept pacing. "...and I met you. You weren't okay and it just broke my heart for some reason. How much can one person take? And I keep feeling this tug towards you, to check up on you but you're so stubborn. I had to pray about it all the time because I felt my heart was deceiving me or something. God knows how confused I was before I accepted that..." He just paused. "That what?" "That I liked you." ❊❊❊❊❊ In my story I'm a child of unfortunate circumstances, born to a reckless father and a housewife mother although the world thinks I have it all. In my story I struggle between loving my parents even though their actions make me angry, I struggle to be the shield for my sister while leaving her alone to pick herself up, I struggle to fit in with my peers even though we we've been friends for years. I can't even hold on to the person who saw me and wanted me. I hide myself behind thousands of questions, anxiety and fear. In my story I'm just another girl raised in Ibadan with nothing to look forward to. Hope is unknowingly what kept me together, hence I started writing letters. What am I hoping for? Who am I hoping on? Why? Why do I write to a person I can't see? How desperate must I be? I hope in a God I used to have around me. Though I don't blame him, I question why he left me, if he's still out there, and if he can still help me. Or maybe he never left me at all. "𝐺𝑜𝑑 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑘 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑒𝑟ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑚, 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑓𝑎𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑢𝑠." 𝐴𝑐𝑡𝑠 17:27 #1 letterwriting #1 Christianfiction #2 wattpadnComplete
Chronicle one of the Drågoon Mémoirs. Born a Magi into a life of privilege, Samahdemn grew up in a society where being born with such a gift undocumented is deemed a crime by long-standing religious decree. Over the centuries of his life, due to a constant mental disquiet because of his aggressive and sometimes violent nature, he's gone from being a disgraced noble, to a slaver, to a Knighted servant of his homeland's crown, where he eventually found some measure of peace by venting his magickally suppressed aggression in a more positive direction. Or so he thought at the time. Eventually finding himself in the shadow of looming hostilities between Åmbrosįå (the world's beloved Goddess) and Lumå'įl (Her former consort-turned-old displaced God), Samahdemn finds himself being quietly pushed from being a mortal on the verge of losing control of his life, to an immortal with the soul of a Drågon. Charged to lead mortals in a conflict that endangers every man, woman and child on Mundus be them Man, Mer or Fae. After begrudgingly accepting this fate and leading the holy charge in the devastating Dįvonësë War over the lands of the living world and helping to save it from fates unknown, if only barely, he now writes his mémoirs in the hopes that doing so will give him the piece of mind to know that all of his means truly were justified by their ends.
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