Chapter 1: Origin

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The story of Alvius takes root in ancestral Africa, the elders tell us in preamble. At a time when geniuses lived among men and the spiritual world and its physical counterpart intertwined in daily life.

One day, Malela, the village chief's daughter, was swimming in the middle of the lake with her friends, when she was brutally sucked under the water. Her friends could not do anything and she sank and disappeared in a few moments.

Panicked and frightened her friends were searching under water, but the waters of the lake were not transparent. Eventually they got out and went for help. All able-bodied men ran, but she was nowhere to be found while the hours were running.

In the evening, the sad family at the water's edge cried for their daughter when the village nganga came to fetch the bruised head and father. He took her to his Bandja, a place reserved for the initiates, and showed her certain things that cannot be revealed here.

The chief and his nganga rushed out and went to seize the largest sheep raised in the enclosure leaning against the chief's house and took him to the place of sacrifice where they did their work by saying prayers and making invocations at the place of a very spirit ancient and very powerful who once helped their people settle on these banks by helping greatly to defeat the very powerful people who resided there beforehand.

They also called as messengers various spirits of the water, the forest and the elders of the afterlife world who had been around him in the past so that they facilitate the link and contact with this entity long forgotten.

When they had finished, they went to lay the offering so prepared by the lake while repeating a litany of invocations in the ritual sense.

After a few minutes of intense prayers, a hair appeared from the water the healer went to pull it from the water. It was Malela who coughed before regaining her breath. Looking haggard and exhausted.

She was carried in triumph by the village and brought back safely to her family. That night, the village feasted and everyone sang and danced in the light of the wood fire. The chief was happy and celebrated his daughter, but the nganga did not stay long before taking leave.

The life of the village resumed its course while Malela had explained not remembering her disappearance in the waters of the lake, everything happened as if nothing had ever come to disturb the tranquility of this village, which resembled so many others in the heart of the great equatorial forest.

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