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The Chronicles of a Legend
This is going to have my thoughts, some of my discoveries, and any other random stuff I can think of.
Episode 11 of Neo Chronicles
Neo Chronicles

Episode 11: Jabari Pt I

Table of Contents

((Here we go. Another ep up for your viewing pleasure. And I dont even care. It's done. I think /I edited it enough for it to be decent. Opening Theme.))

Jabari doesn't remember the first time he walked the earth. He doesn't remember his home, his family, or anything of the life he had before. That's not to say he couldn't remember. As not only a powerful spirit, but also a powerful shaman, he is granted a great number of supernatural abilities. Peering into the past, present, and future are a mere day's meditation away.

But that is neither here nor there. The only thing that matters right now is the mission. He's been divinely appointed by the Olòrún to carry out a task. He uses the mystic forces at his command to traverse along the Axis Mundi. He moves at a such a speed that it is all but impossible to calculate it by modern day standards. It takes an instant to arrive at his destination.

Upon setting foot on the ground, he takes pause for a moment as he hears the sound of booming thunder in the distance. The place is familiar to him. Yes, the surroundings are a bit different, but he has been here before. No, it's more than that. The atmosphere, the climate, even the subtle fragrance that graces his senses is familiar. He hasn't just been here, he's lived here. This is Nigeria, the land in which his mortal form first walked the earth. As the rain starts to pour, Jabari fights off the memories of his youth. His spirit still carries with him traces of a life he once knew.

The sound of his armored boots clashing with a dry and relatively dusty landscape instantly takes him back. He remembers venturing out far from his family on the sunniest of days. He had no reason to. In fact, he remembers being scolded for it a few times, but adventure was as much a part of him as anything else.

It starts raining as soon as he arrives in the broken remains of a former city. There was a time when this northeastern corner of the country had nothing of the sort here. A “city” was something that was around in the olden days—in the days before what the world now calls the Second Dark Age. When that came, most of the cities ended up crumbling, just like this one.

But as he further examines the area, he soon discovers that the destruction here isn’t nearly as old as he had first thought. No, this is all fairly recent. Fires rage in the distance. Car alarms blare in the streets. The ground on which he walks cracks and quakes. It's as if this were the setting of a war zone.

The utter desolation gives him pause. There's no telling how many people there are caught up in this mayhem. He can hear what he can only imagine are the faint and dying last cries of those being crushed under weight of a collapsing building or those being scorched alive as their homes burn to the ground.

There's so much wrong that needs to be righted here. He's at a loss of what to do—torn between who he needs to save first, torn between where he needs to go to. There's a family close by tucked away in a corner praying to whatever god they believe will listen for deliverance. There's a group of kids lying in some broke down alley dressed in scrapes, cuts, and tattered rags.

As the shaman makes his way past an intersection, he can only clench a fist and strike a nearby pole as he lets out a disgruntled, “Damn” at the sight. Imps, ghouls, goblins, hellhounds, and all manner of lesser devil creatures have made their way through the cracks into this world, and literally bringing Hell with them. To the mass, they appear as nothing more than natural disasters. A demon's form, unless bound by an explicit contract of sorts is invisible to the mortals, but their influence is as plain as day. They drive the people to the brink of sanity and beyond, causing brothers to turn upon each other, wars to break out between families and friends. Those who've long kept deep seated hatred towards one another finally cut loose.

Jabari realizes he can't do this alone. Its too great a task for any mortal man to bear, shaman or not, and what's worse is that he feels the demons know this. They know he has his limits, and they know what he cannot stand. Everything done here is done with a purpose. That's what makes demons so dangerous. Nothing they do is without goal and reason in mind, yet at the same time, they care nothing of the lives they have to go through in order to achieve it. In fact, they relish the thought of destroying something whenever the chance arises.

If Jabari were to put aside his task of finding and sealing the gate to the underworld, then the next devil would rise and cause even more mayhem. He can't allow that to happen. As much as it pains him, he must ignore the commotion these lesser demons are causing and head straight for the source. He invokes one of the Orisha spirits to carry him along the way of the winds.

Looking down on the land below with his bird's eye view, he peers into the light of all things. The auras of evil spirits carry with them a distinct hue. Their colors can be as varied as any other spirit, but their hue is what causes them to stand out. It's always darker than a normal aura and also more lively. He can see the auras all around the city, but the one he is looking for in particular is—right there.

In an instant, he stands at the site of what was a school playground. The petter-patter of rain, followed by a rumbling thunder in the background causes the scene to look and feel all the more bleak, with broken swing sets, fallen slides, and toppled monkey bars littering all of what's left. His spiritual perception leads him to small patch of land in the shape of a triangle, seemingly spared from the waste and destruction of its surrounding environment. It is in that spot the gate to the demon world lies.

He wastes no time. Clasping his hands together and then setting them on the ground beneath, he recites the words to an enchantment. He speaks in a language the world has never known—a spiritual language, only able to be interpreted by other beings of the spirit realm. Following the rhythm of his voice, one can detect a settle influence of the Yoruba, probably due to his upbringing.

To the spirits, the incantation sounds distinctly similar to a prayer, and in many ways, that's exactly what it is. “To the great and mighty Olòrún, Adonai, holy and wondrous Al-Quddūs, I humbly ask of you to lend me your strength to accomplish what no other can—” but before Jabari can finish the enchantment, he is struck by a beam. Its light carries with it all the chromatics of the spectrum, and with it comes enough force send a family sized spacecraft into orbit. If it weren't for Jabari's quick, near nanosecond reflexes, he would not have been able to erect a force field in time to shield him from the brunt of it, yet even still, the blast knocks the him several yards into the air.

Hovering overland, Jabari makes out what appears to be a rainbow down below—multiple rainbows to be more precise. They move with the periodic gusts of wind, and from them, another beam fires forth—aimed right for him.

Again, Jabari shields himself from the attack, but before he can take notice, yet another shot is fired at him from behind. This time, it is thanks to the suit of armor he is wearing that he does not feel the full potency of the beam.

Stopping just before hitting the ground, Jabari looks to the sky and finally makes out his attacker. It is a demon he is quite familiar with. In fact, it is the first demon he ever remembers fighting against—a creature of the rainbow, known for devouring entire cities—the Mukunga M'bura. It's form is constantly changing. In one moment, it may appear as a fierce falcon, another a rampaging lion, even a twisted combination of things. The one thing that always remains constant about it is its luminous body, shining with the light of every color known and unknown to man.

The Mukunga M'bura continues in its assault. As a winged dragon, it spews forth a fury of embers from the sky. Still, Jabari is forced to stay on the defensive. He recalls the last time he faced such a creature, he had to find a way to outsmart it. There's no clear target to aim at, and its speed is comparable to that of light itself, but so long as he remains patient and clear headed, the demon will make a mistake, and that is all Jabari needs to end this.

Already, it is at his side as a flying beetle. Jabari stands poised to swiftly swat it away, but before doing so, he notices it slithering at his feet as a serpent. It lunges to bite, but Jabari's quick shielding saves him yet again. The demon takes to the sky as a hawk, firing short bursts of light as it dive bombs toward him.

The demon's assault is fierce and rampant, causing the shaman to do little more than defend, but as surely as Jabari predicted, the opening comes. It's a small window—a very small window. It's so small that had he not have been searching for it, he would have missed it, but it is there, right between the last few shots of the demon and its next near instantaneous transformation. And Jabari seizes the moment by firing forth a blast blessed by the divine accuracy of Ochosi and the raw power of Shango.

The Mukunga M'bura is taken aback. The strike stuns him, giving Jabari just the amount of time to use its own likeness against it. In calling upon the power of Oshumare, the divine serpent spirit of the rainbow, Jabari ensnares the demon's true form. The Mukunga cries out for mercy, begging for its freedom. Whatever empty promises it states fall on deaf ears, for Jabari carries with him the righteous ire of Ogun. With the light of a spiritual sabre in his hand, he leaps to confront the the demonic entity in air and pierces it through its wide open maw. The beast bursts into a sparkling explosion lighting up the sky with traces of its former being.

Jabari's victory is short and hollow, for the Mukunga M'bura did accomplish its goal. Jabari lands once again in the small, triangular patch of land, knowing already that it is too late. A great surge of energy gathers in the area, striking him on every level—physically, mentally, and spiritually. Fires spontaneously fall from the sky and rise from the earth as a great violet light shines before him. The smell of sulfur spreads across the area, and added to the mud caused by the heavy rain, it's a wonder Jabari can still stand and face what is to come with such a stoic demeanor.

From the great flames, a large and mighty black leopard crawls forth, and with its loud and boisterous roar that shakes the entire city, all the fire and the rain cease as what can only be described as a bomb detonating overtakes the patch of land, along with the rest of the playground and the entirety of the city. Everything is vaporized. No one living even sees it coming. The destruction spreads as fast as the sound that carries it, and it still spreads, until the destruction outraces the sound carrying it. One by one the cities in the area fall, states fall, and finally the whole country falls. And suddenly Jabari's stoic countenance shatters.

“H-how could you?” He utters in shock. “Why? What did this serve to do? Killing millions—billions. What is it about you demons that make senseless destruction so appealing to you?”

The leopard snarls and then chuckles. “How long have you walked this path? How long have you known of our ways? We do as we please, because we have the power to do so. There's nothing you can do to stop it now that we're here. Today is a new age. The end of your kind and the rise of mine. We will kill, we will take, and we will lavish in all of its carnal glories for none other than the sheer pleasure of it.”

And under the demon's will, the ground breaks apart. Pillars emerge, rising up as obelisks touching the sky. The storm rages more vehemently than before. The winds rage. The skies crack with the sight of lightning, then it all goes black. Only the leopards piercing red eyes shine through, and suddenly Jabari can feel the grip of a strong presence trying to crush his body from all sides. It takes all of his will power to resist.

A bead of sweat falls from his brow as he can feel the heat of raging embers twist and swirl about his body like wire. He all but looses his breath as the very wind seeks to draw forth the air that he breathes from his lungs. His body can take no more strain. The armor he wears was made to combat most natural forces. These supernatural assaults prove too much for it. His breastplate shatters. The pads are ripped from his shoulders.

Anyone other than Jabari would have been ripped to shreds from the moment the demon known as Flauros stepped foot in this realm. In fact, one can tell that the leopard is a little disappointed that it's taking this long for Jabari to show signs of breaking, but within a minute's time, the great shaman falls. And a black fog overtakes what's left of the man's body, slowly claiming it piece by piece until he is no more.

The leopard growls, its fiery eyes burning ever intensely. Rocks surround its person, rising from the broken ground and morphing into long, sharp, steel blades poised to strike whatever their master wills them to. “Eshu?” Flauros mentions with an eyebrow raised. “Are you so desperate?” And in unison, the bladed edges are shot at what seems to be a vacant lot.

But from that lot, a loud and boastful cry assaulting the demon's very soul booms across the land as the same black fog that took Jabari away reforms. Just as the shaman was claimed by its dark embrace, he breaks its hold on and recklessly charges demon head on with ethereal shield in one hand and mighty battle axe in the other.

((Yeah, I think that's a good endpoint. This concludes episode 11, now to start on episode 12. Peace and God Bless. Ending Theme.))





 
 
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