Ajapa rolled out his mat in the village square, even as thick black smoke rose from the huts nearby. The screams and cries of victims living out their final moments in torment met his ears, loud enough to make the earth vibrate beneath him. He set his staff down, and sat on the mat, folding his legs, and soon noticed a figure, walking out of the chaos and carnage.
Ajapa started muttering a poem he learned at his mother's feet when he was still a young boy, a year or two younger than the one standing in front of him now, wearing a grin as wide as the ever opened gates of the underworld.
The boy's feet were bare and covered in soot. His body smelled like smoke, his clothes barely hanging on his lean body, had holes burnt into different places. He sat in front of Ajapa, and folded his legs like the old man.
"The vulture has come. The vulture has come. Tell mama the sun will not fall," the boy said, reciting the final lines of the poem before chuckling.
"Why?" Ajapa asked, finally addressing him.
"Why what? This?" the boy waved his hand at the destruction he had caused. "I wanted to stretch my back," he said and started chuckling again. He noticed Ajapa's stiff expression and his laugh faded.
"Why did you kill them?" Ajapa asked again. The boy shrugged. "If you care so much, you should have tried to stop me."
"There was nothing left to save when I got here," Ajapa replied, failing to hide a strain in his voice. The boy raised his brows and then shook his head.
"Don't tell me you let yourself get attached to them."
"Get out of him," Ajapa barked.
The boy leaned forward, frowning, He eyed the old man, taking note of his twitching lips and the dust on his shaking hands, then he let out a sarcastic laugh, and coughed, wisps of smoke escaped his mouth.
"Ahaan. So after you helped me find this perfect host, you want me to leave? Where would I go? We should be celebrating, don't you think? It is a perfect day to share a drink with a friend."
His words sent a dagger through Ajapa's heart. The day had started with so much radiance and serenity, with dew settled on every leaf, the morning smelled like a newborn baby. Ajapa had slung his leather bag around his shoulder, and balanced himself on his staff, making a mental note to share a drink with his friend Jelani, when he returned from his expedition in the forest.
Jelani was the oldest palm-wine tapper in the village. His eyes were always full of good humour, and he told the best stories. He was also one of the most generous men Ajapa had ever met. Now, his voice called out to Ajapa from the river of tortured souls, forced into the sea of eternity. His body shook even more, grief swept through his bones like a cold breeze.
"I will not ask you again," Ajapa warned. The boy watched as the old man was slowly transfigured before him, smiling like he was enthralled by the sight. Ajapa's eyes glowed as white as a cloud and his veins popped around his head, snaking down his neck to his thin hands. .
He grabbed his staff and hit the ground with it once. A violent wind pushed the boy several paces away from him. The boy got to his feet quickly and saw Ajapa was already standing, pointing his staff at him.
"Looks like old age hasn't knocked your stubbornness out of you," the boy commented, rolling a rock in his hand.
"Leave－" Ajapa started to shout when the boy threw the rock, the air around it heated up as it suddenly became a huge fireball, making its way hungrily towards Ajapa.
Ajapa struck the ground with his staff and a whirlwind engulfed him, deflecting the fireball. The boy threw three more stones and Ajapa hit the ground repeatedly, making the whirlwind grow even stronger. The whirlwind circled Ajapa a little longer before dying. All that was left of their clash now was dust and smoke.
"Ah. I've missed you this man," the boy said with a sinister glee. "And where did you find this boy?" He asked, prodding his chest and biceps.
Ajapa was not the one who found the boy, at least not the first time, but he was not surprised the dark wizard could not remember his host.
It was these kinds of events that made nations fear and even hate wizards. The dark wizard had made a habit of abducting children from several towns, and forced his soul into their bodies, looking for what he described as 'the perfect set of hosts.' That was until Ajapa finally managed to stop him.
The tales of their battle that day made its way into several songs and bonfire stories. Ajapa had walked into the dark wizard's hut after the battle, with a firebrand, ready to burn everything, when he found a boy, tied up in a corner, among several dead children. The boy was only skin and bones but he was alive.
Ajapa looked into the eyes of the boy now, wondering how fate always found a way to dip her cruel fingers into everything.
He tapped his staff on the ground and vanished. The boy immediately grabbed a fistful of sand and threw it in the air. He heard a pain stricken groan instantly and waved his hands in the direction the sound came from. Sparks flew out his hands and Ajapa became visible. Smoke rose from the burn marks on his tunic.
Ajapa swung his staff and the boy rolled out of the way, grabbing another fistful of sand and throwing it in his direction.
The heated sand burned Ajapa before he had time to counter. He groaned in pain and rubbed his burned hand. The boy charged towards Ajapa with two large rocks in his fists.
Ajapa swung his staff and a strong wind pushed the boy back, knocking him to the ground, and sending the rocks flying out his hands. The boy got up and stretched.
"Imari, let that boy go," Ajapa yelled, pointing his staff him.
The boy's face morphed into a scowl. "Don't talk to me like that," he spat. "I just wanted to share a drink with you old friend, but if it's a fight you're looking--"
A strong gust of wind pushed him before he could complete his sentence. Imari rolled several times on the ground, gashing his head on a rock. He stood up, and felt the back of his head, he brought his hands to his face, frowning at the blood stain on his palm.
"Ajapa, you're beginning to annoy me," he threatened.
"Leave his body," Ajapa yelled again.
Imari stretched his hands out wide. "You will have to kill him, because I am not going anywhere," he taunted. Ajapa's fingers tightened around his staff and his body shook in anger.
'Stupid boy,' he thought, 'why did you disobey me?'
Ajapa could still taste bile in his mouth from when he had returned to his hut after his brief expedition. He had sensed something was off and his suspicion was confirmed when he found the door to the forbidden room wide open.
It was the same door he had warned his apprentice countless times to never open for any reason. He could still remember the chill that claimed his body when he tapped his bag and realised he must have left his key in the hut.
When he stepped into the room, there was a dead body sprawled on the floor. It appeared to be a girl, same age as the boy. She had been charred so badly, he could see some of her bones, poking out of the roasted, wrinkled flesh, but somehow, most of her face remained intact, yet permanently contorted into an expression of anguish and fear.
The room had a stench that turned his stomach: a mixture of death, agony, and all the potions that had been spilled on the floor. He walked to a cracked calabash in one corner of the room and picked up a charm that was once wound around it.
He wondered what the boy was going through now, trapped in his own body, subdued by the soul of a much stronger, evil man. He was going to stop Imari, once and for all.
"Why are you acting like this now? Didn't you kill those children in our last battle?" Imari yelled, his voice carrying accusation.
Ajapa's face dropped and he lowered his staff. "I did what I had to do," he replied.
"But you won't do it now," Imari observed. A wicked cackle climbed out his throat and he raised his hands above his head. Ajapa could see sparks flying out the boy's fingers. He clenched his staff with both hands and dug it into the ground.
A small flame started to form on the boy's hands and it grew larger in size and intensity. Sweat dripped down Ajapa's forehead, and he whispered a spell and spat on the ground.
The boy threw the fireball at him and he swung his staff, sending a gust of wind forward to deflect the flames. He felt the heat singe his ears and his tunic. He wriggled his toes in the hot sand as he dug his staff into it again.
"You will not be able to keep up if you don't fight me seriously Ajapa," Imari warned as he raised his hands again.
"Imari, that spell will kill that boy," Ajapa scolded.
"It won't. His body is surprisingly strong for his age. You finally managed to find an apprentice with potential," Imari replied, as sparks flew off the boy's fingers again.
A flame as large as a coconut formed above the boy's hands, but a crow swung in and struck his leg, flying away as quickly as it attacked. Imari groaned and another crow attacked him. His concentration broke and the spell fizzled out.
Soon, a large murder of crows swooped in and started to attack him with their beaks and claws. Ajapa recited his spell again and spat on the ground. This was to attract more crows to fight for his cause.
One of the crows landed on Ajapa's shoulder and he tied the charm he picked in the hut on its leg and sent it away. He watched Imari struggle against the birds, flailing his hands, cursing. Then Imari yelled in rage and the whole murder dropped to the floor.
The smell of burnt feathers and flesh hung heavy in the air as Imari kicked one of the dead birds towards Ajapa. Most of his clothes were burned off, and thick smoke escaped his mouth as he spoke.
"Why did you have to make me angry Ajapa?" He asked.
Ajapa tightened his grip on his staff.
"Now I'm going to have to kill you," he barked and started beating his chest. "I am Imari, the man who wrestled with the god of fire for forty days and forty nights until he earned divine favour. I am Imari, killer of Kings and destroyer of nations. Ajapa, I will boil the tears in your eyes and force your tongue down your throat."
"I've defeated you once already," Ajapa coughed, " I'm not afraid of you."
Smoke started to appear from the ground and Ajapa, blinked and coughed, straining his eyes that were beginning to gather water, desperate not to lose sight of Imari. When it became too much, he closed his eyes, and held his throat, coughing even more violently.
He didn't know where Imari was, but he had no doubt he was close. When Ajapa finally sensed his presence, it was too late, Imari kicked him before he could react. He fell on the ground, where a circle of flames had begun to form.
Ajapa groaned and lifted his staff but Imari kicked it out of his hand.
"It appears you're not as agile as you once were," Imari gibed and moved his hands in a slow rising motion. The flames rose with them.
Ajapa coughed, blinking tears and sweat out of his eyes. He started to crawl towards his staff but Imari chuckling, walked past him and picked it up.
Ajapa reached for Imari's ankle, and he swung the staff. It met Ajapa's head with a loud crack. Blood flew out of Ajapa's mouth.
"What I hate most about you is your misguided sense of righteousness," Imari spat. "You really think you are better than everyone else."
Ajapa coughed and started to mutter a spell. Imari kicked him hard on his chest and he started wheezing.
"I came up with a plan, a spell, to keep people like us ruling this world forever and you shot it down. Now look at you, old, weak. . ."
"I will always stand for what is right," Ajapa croaked.
"Yet, you killed more than 30 children that day. So how are you any better than I am?" Imari roared.
"I did it to stop you," Ajapa groaned, coughing. His tunic stuck to his body, soaked in sweat.
"Ehn, stop me now," Imari mocked and struck him across his face with the staff again. Ajapa spat a tooth out his mouth. The world was beginning to spin around him and he knew he would lose his consciousness and be at Imari's mercy if he didn't do anything soon. Imari flung the staff out of the flame circle and squatted beside Ajapa.
"What will you do now, old friend?" he asked. "I can tell this boy is important to you, so you won't sacrifice him to force me out and you cannot defeat me if you keep cowering. Is this how you are going to die?"
Ajapa coughed and crawled away from him.
"You are just like me Ajapa. You are a wizard. We only care about what is good for us. Why can't you see this after all these years?"
Imari raised his hands and the flames rose even higher. Ajapa groaned something in reply.
"Ehn? I can't hear you."
"I said I was wondering how this boy being alive is good for me," Ajapa said and struck the ground with his hands. A roaring wind attacked Imari, putting out the flames and pushing him.
Imari got up but was attacked by an even stronger wind that sent him flying. He jumped to his feet again feeling pain in his bruised knees. He dug a rock out of the earth and would have infused it with a spell if he had not been interrupted but another gust of wind.
He landed on his head, and staggered to his feet this time, cleaning the blood trickling down his forehead with the back of his hand. Ajapa's chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. He walked to his staff slowly and picked it up.
"I didn't know you could make heavy attacks like that without your staff," Imari said. "Must have taken a lot out of you. See you, breathing like a cornered goat."
"I'm not holding back anymore," Ajapa retorted and dashed at him. Imari did the same, sparks formed at his fingers and he thrust his opened palms at Ajapa, who blew the flame away with a wind spell and tripped him with his staff. Imari took a fist full of sand, and threw it at Ajapa, who covered with face with his hands and struck the ground with his staff, pushing Imari back with a violent gust of wind.
"The last time we fought, you moved from one body to another as I killed off each host," Ajapa said. "Now look, you've murdered every living thing around and I will kill you in that boy's body."
Imari whispered a spell under his breath and then roared. A tiny wheel of fire flew out of his mouth, and grew as it headed towards Ajapa who desperately cried to the goddess Ǫya for help. A huge whirlwind formed around Imari and he fell to his knees.
The fire-wheel still made its way to Ajapa and he covered his face with his hands, summoning a gust of wind to protect himself. The flame met the wind, breaking through with a force so strong it threw Ajapa off his feet.
Imari was still trapped in the whirlwind, holding his throat as he felt his lungs empty themselves. The boy's body was dying and would be of no use to him soon. He lifted his reddened eyes looking for options.
He could not believe how stupid he was, razing the whole village in his frenzy without leaving a single survivor. His eyes found a crow pecking at a rock, ignoring the epic clash between wizards happening right before it.
He sent his soul away from the boy and possessed the crow. By the time he noticed the charm tied on the crow's leg, it was too late. He was trapped.
Ajapa pointed at the crow and another whirlwind formed around it, even as the one that trapped the boy slowly died out.
The crow cawed and tried to fly away, but fell soon after. The whirlwind grew stronger and rose high to the clouds, before seizing, just as quick as it had started. All that was left was the crow, dead, with its wings torn apart.
Ajapa smiled and closed his eyes. He heard the boy groan nearby and called out.
"Debari, are you alright?"
He didn't get any response. He kept his eyes closed, but soon heard footsteps approaching him. He opened his eyes and saw the boy dragging himself towards him.
"Baba, I'm sorry," the boy's voice shook, tears pouring down his eyes. "Baba, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he fell on Ajapa, crying.
Ajapa was inwardly impressed with the boy's strength. Being able to move after what his body just went through testified that Imari was right about one thing. His body was fit enough to withstand heavy magic.
For a second, he could almost understand Imari's plight. He almost envied Debari as he tried and failed to move his tired limbs while the boy soaked what was left of his tunic with tears.
"I just wanted to impress Kinyi. I didn't mean for any of this to happen," He wept.
"Debari, do you know all that happened?" Ajapa asked.
"Yes. I was present through all of it. I was in my body but I had no control."
Ajapa grunted in sympathy and moved his hand with difficulty so he could pat the boy's back.
"I am sorry you had to go through all that," Ajapa said.
"Don't say that. I betrayed your trust, everything that has happened, happened because of me. Because I'm stupid, stupid," the boy said and started hitting himself.
"Debari, stop that," Ajapa said but he didn't listen, "stupid, stupid fool," he cried, still hitting himself.
"Debari, I said stop that," Ajapa repeated now, sounding more stern.
Debari raised his head and looked Ajapa in the eyes. Then he got on his feet and did his best to balance the old man on his back.
"What are you doing?" Ajapa asked in between groans. Debari picked up his staff and walked steadily, away from the scene of the battle. He could not do anything to stop tears from pouring down his eyes or quench the guilt burning through his chest but he could try this one thing.
He listened as Ajapa stopped asking questions and started muttering a familiar poem: the one about a vulture trying to eat the sun. His ribs ached, his legs ached, and his head throbbed. Blood flowed down his forehead and he struggled to wipe it off his face while making sure Ajapa did not fall.
He did his best to steady himself, but his legs shook. His body couldn't handle all the punishment he had taken in that battle. He could not believe he was still alive.
He missed his step and fell, bringing the wizard down with him. Debari clutched his chest in pain, still crying. He remembered a day he a cobra bit him and he was sure he would breathe his last, until the wizard crushed a leaf in his palms and rubbed it on his wound to save his life.
Ajapa had always been there to clean up after him. Now, he had made a mess so huge, he knew it would haunt him to the grave. He pushed himself up and lifted the wizard again.
"Debari, it's okay," Ajapa said. "Take my st--"
"No. I can do something. Let me do something," Debari cried. Ajapa closed his eyes. After what was a long, tedious journey, Debari reached the mouth of the forest, where Ajapa's hut sat quietly, waiting for him.
Debari dropped Ajapa at the door and rushed in. He found one of Ajapa's special gourds and crushed some leaves inside, forming a mixture with water. He ignored the charred foot sticking out the door of the forbidden room, still wide open. Guilt seized his heart again but this wasn't the time.
He brought the gourd to Ajapa, muttering a spell he had heard the wizard use countless times. A gentle wind blew past them. Debari glanced at the sky and saw thick clouds were beginning to form, blocking out the sun. He knelt beside Ajapa and brought the gourd down to his mouth.
"Debari, it's okay," Ajapa groaned.
"No, please just drink."
"Debari," Ajapa said this time, using his stern voice. "I said it is okay."
The gourd fell off Debari's hands and he started to wail.
"Now, take my staff."
Debari closed his ears with his palms, shaking his head.
"Debari, I said take my staff."
"I don't want you to die," Debari cried.
Ajapa chuckled. "Stupid boy," he said, "Didn't your mother tell you how one sun dies every evening so another can rise in its place when dawn comes?"
"I don't want you to die," Debari repeated, shaking his head.
"We cannot stop fate Debari. You have seen what happens when people try. Now take my staff before I turn you into a frog."
Debari picked up the staff with one hand, cleaning his face with the other.
"Trust me, I wish it didn't have to be like this, but this is where we are and life must go on,"
Debari cleaned his eyes again but the tears would not stop pouring.
"Now, go to my room, hit this staff on my door seven times and all my powers will be transferred to you."
Debari was still cleaning his face.
"Are you deaf? I said go," Ajapa barked and Debari scurried away.
"Imari, you see, this is how it's supposed to be," Ajapa said to himself. "Ǫya, I have done my best, please keep this boy on the right path."
Debari rushed back and knelt beside him.
"Baba, I did what you told me to do," he said. Ajapa took Debari's face in his palm and smiled.
"Well done my boy," he said, "I'm proud of you already."
"Ajapa, please don't go."
"When the sun rises on your face tomorrow, it will be the face of a new man," Ajapa said smiling. "And I will always be with you," he added and with that, drew his final breath.
Debari screamed and buried his face in Ajapa's chest. Then he raised his head, cleaned his face with his hands and picked up Ajapa's staff. He walked inside the hut to grab one of Ajapa's leather bags and came out to find that Ajapa's body had already turned to dust. He did not react.
The sky roared and a fire started inside the hut. Debari began his journey, letting the wind guide him far away from what was now his past, lost forever in thick black smoke. The clouds above were heavy with promise of rain, but the sun still fought to peek through, desperate to see his face.