It was like staring at a dream for the exhausted, hopeless, battered and bruised Neosa that shed overjoyed tears at the singular sight of hope in the flesh for the first time.
"What you are feeling is all real. The question you want to ask yourself is exactly how real?"
The answer to uncle Amoar's reality question was simple for her.
Real.
The answer to how real it felt was also simple.
Real.
The dilemma of the answer concerned the dreamy nature of her current reality. The dream world and the real world were so intertwined that it became more and more difficult to discern the two as separate. They were one and the same, in different planes of the existing and nonexistent doorways.
Like the doorways that Mambo Musa opened, towards the realities of dreams, and the sanctuaries of possibilities.
Sunrise picked all spirits up from the impenetrable dark, in the same way it plastered an abundance of light for all bodies to see in. The desert air was brimming with sand castles of life and sand mansions of fortitude.
Musa moved with a purpose like a real man that could never be stopped and would never stop moving towards his mission that refused to give up in submission. He commanded restless respect, bravery, integrity, loyalty, liberty, faith, admiration and adoration, not fear, trickery, despotism, brutality, annihilation and violation.
The prosperous calls of the kudu horns and the ringing singing of the freed slave children mixed with the thunderous chants of Neosa's: "Weee want — freeeeedom!" song from her Racaan race. The entire atmosphere of Chanco reverberated with resonant optimism that charged straight through the stratosphere.
Everyone made way for their King to walk through and amongst them on an equal level in a straight line, only straight. A line that moved forward, only forward, towards the straight lines that led to the steps he had to take, for himself, his people, his province, and his country.
His tall height, broad shoulders and well-built warrior physique parted the weeping and tearful crowd of citizens that touched his body as he moved past them.
"Musa."
"Musa Musa."
"Mamba Mambo."
"Mamba Musa."
"Musa."
"Mambo Musa."
Sonorous hisses and sonorous whispers traveled throughout the residents in waves and dunes.
Musa's serious and striking elemental eyes did not meet any of his subjects, nor did they acknowledge them. His glowing eyes of supreme hazel looked like dead-set limestone, the same set in stone limestone as the step pyramid.
Hazel Amandla aura surrounded his body, enough to draw people back and enough to drive them towards him like a gemstone in the sand. No one bowed at his feet, they stayed up on their feet to stand together with him. They bowed their heads in unison and raised their heads like one body. For they viewed him as a God not above the realms of mankind like Pharaoh Ra, but a God that was one within the realms of mankind.
His hazelnut brown skin with the sun behind him eclipsed the impulse to retreat and ignited the desire to defeat.
Kufu wrapped himself around Neosa's defeated body and lifted her up to be placed on top of Mekal in a riding position. Kufu stayed wrapped to ensure she didn't fall over.
Don't sleep girlie. Stay awake. Stay upright. Neo told Neosa with drooping eyelids that managed to stay wide open thanks to the cobra's venom that would jerk her body up every time it was deprived of circulating blood flow.
YOU ARE READING
Finding Contentus
FantasyWhat does it mean to Find Content? This is the question that Genesia, for "New Beginnings" and Neosa, for "One Sanctuary", seek to answer. As identical twins, and as survivors of their gifted race of supernatural humans known as Racaans. In one da...
