CHAPTER 8: ZIZIRE - THE APPLE AND THE TREE

FLASHBACK

A dark-skinned teenage boy sits at the feet of a middle-aged man who is currently fiddling with a bow, a quiver filled with sharp arrows lying on the bench on which the man is currently seated upon. He clears his throat before speaking; the action causes the boy to perk up and his spine to stiffen.

"Tell me son, what is the best way to kill your prey," the man asked, finally setting the bow down.

"By setting a trap?" the boy answered hesitantly, thus earning a pat on the head which caused him to glow with pride.

"Not quite correct, but a very good attempt. Depending on the type or size of the animal, a trap is but only the beginning" the man replied and took out his snuffbox.

He had performed this task so many times in his lifetime and the presence of the boy that he neither remembered nor could imagine a time before the man started taking snuff. The whole process was like a ritual or the foreplay between two long-time lovers, like something akin to a slow sensual dance; depending on which of the males present in that room that you asked. The man slowly untied the small sac containing the tobacco powder; which was seasoned both by the salty sweat of the person who had painstakingly ground up the dry leaves until it was a fine powder and the stone on which this process had taken place. He took his small spoon and scooped up some of this powder then placed it on an area at the back of his thumb quite close to his index finger and sniffed the powder up a nostril. The entire process was slow and unhurried, one might even say almost reverent.

"First, you learn all you can about the prey; armed with this knowledge you proceed to set a suitable trap and, then once it has been ensnared by your trap, you shoot at it from a safe distance with a couple of arrows to weaken it before you finally take out your machete and slit its throat." He paused to repeat the dance with tobacco before snorting it up the other nostril.

"That, my son, is the best way to kill prey." He packed up his stuff box and got even more comfortable in his seat, the boy buzzed with excitement because this meant that the night was not over yet; this move indicated that the man was not going out this evening but rather staying in to regale the boy with stories of his hunts when hunting was still a thing.

"Hunting is not just a means of sustenance Zizire my boy, it is more than that. It is a way of life and it is an art form. It is not for the foolish or prideful. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, father." A young Zizire answered enthusiastically even though he had no idea what his father was talking about; to him, hunting was no longer important enough to be considered as either of these three.

"Have you heard of the girl who bleeds blue?"

"Father, please if I wanted to hear about tales by moonlight stories, I would have stayed in mother's hut, but I am here because I wanted to hear about the gory details of your hunts, back in the day when there were still animals. Actual events, not one of my mother's made-up stories."

"That is where you have got wrong Zi, the girl that bleeds blue is not a made-up story. Maybe some of her abilities have been made up or exaggerated, but trust me she is as real as you and me."

"If she is real, then why haven't the gods done something about her? Why is she still allowed to roam the mortal realm? It seems like her existence is akin to spitting in the faces of the gods; so, why is she still being allowed to exist?"

"Patience Zizire not everything is black and white. Now tell me what do you know about the girl who bleeds blue?"

"She bleeds blue, she is immortal, she heals fast and moves even faster when in battle."

"Good, you are on the right track. You are almost through with the first step involved in killing prey, but this is not quite enough."

"What do you mean, father?"

"Remember I told you that when you turn 13, I will take your hunting training more seriously?"

"Yes, father, but what does the girl who bleeds blue have to do with my training?"

"Everything Zizire, everything."

"I am so confused right now, father."

"You are 13 now, and we will start taking your training more seriously starting by dawn tomorrow. I will teach you how to hunt and kill prey Zizire, but your target is not animals, it is Azura."

"Who is Azura?"

"She is the girl who bleeds blue. You cannot hope to capture and kill what you do not know by name. She has a head full of locs and skin with markings that glows blue, the glowing of her skin would be the last thing you see before she removes you from the land of the living."

"These were never in any of the stories that I have heard about her father. All I was ever told with respect to her physical attributes was that she bled blue and her different pair of eyes glowed like that of an animal. How do you know this and more importantly, why are you telling me all this?"

"I know this because I was part of a team of men that went after her."

"What?!" Zizire's face was a perfect mixture of shock and awe. Not only was this fictional girl real, but his father had faced this abomination called Azura, and he had also lived to tell the tale, unlike the other unfortunate men in all the stories he had heard.

"The majority of what the world knows about Azura is as a result of that mission, Zizire. Five men went into that forest, myself included, but only two managed to leave it. We might have survived, but we were left with both physical and psychological scars; the things we witnessed that day still hunts us till today well at least I know that I am being haunted, I can't speak for the other man. The long scar on my stomach is a reminder never to forget the events of that trip and to underestimate anyone again in my life."