The Call of the Beyond

The night was still as Afiyara approached the village, her serpentine form moved with a grace that belied the turmoil inside her. The encounter with the ancestral dragon had left her rattled, its cryptic words weighing heavily on her mind. She looked down at her hands, the scales glistening in the moonlight, feeling the power coiled beneath her skin—wild, untamed, and dangerous.

She did not want to return to the elders, not now but she knew they were the only ones who might have answers, even if she was losing faith in their riddles. With a heavy heart, Afiyara changed her course, walking towards the sacred house where the elders gathered.

As she neared the entrance, the firelight flickered through the doorway, casting long shadows on the ground. The elders were already waiting for her, their expressions a mixture of concern and quiet understanding. The eldest woman, known as Wanjikû Wa Mûthoni, the one who had spoken to her earlier, stood at the center of the circle, her gaze unwavering.

“You’ve returned,” she said softly. “It seems the dragon has already spoken to you.”

Afiyara nodded, her anger tempered by exhaustion. “I need to revert,” she said, her voice firm, though the weariness seeped through. “I cannot stay like this.”

The elders exchanged glances before stepping forward. Without a word, they began to chant, their voices low and rhythmic, their hands moving in intricate patterns as they wove the ancient magic that connected them to the spirits of their ancestors. The air around Afiyara hummed with energy, the fire lit up even brighter as if someone had added firewood to it and slowly, she felt the serpentine power retreating.

Her skin began to shift, the scales faded, and her serpents softened and stilled. She felt her body returning to its human form, the familiar weight of her limbs settling in. The elders continued chanting, their voices guided the transformation until, at last, she stood before them—human once again.

Afiyara took a deep breath, relief washing over her for just a moment but it was fleeting. She knew this was temporary. She could feel the power lurking beneath the surface, ready to emerge again at any moment.

The eldest woman stepped forward, her eyes filled with both sympathy and sorrow. “This is all we can do for now,” she said quietly. “We can help you return to your human form, but the serpent’s power is part of you now. You will need to learn to control it.”

Afiyara nodded, though frustration still burned within her. The elder sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Afiyara Wa Mûturi, that is something you must discover on your own. We can guide you, but the path to mastering this power lies within you.”

Afiyara stepped back, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Of course it does,” she muttered under her breath. She turned to leave, her mind spinning with unanswered questions. She was human again, but she knew this was only temporary. The serpent’s power would return, and when it did, she needed to be ready.

As she walked back through the village, the weight of her new reality pressed down on her. The reverent stares and fearful whispers of the villagers no longer registered. Afiyara’s mind was set on one thing: understanding and controlling the power inside her before it consumed her completely.

Inside her designated room in her Nyûmba Nene, the familiar scent of herbs and earth surrounded her. She sunk onto her mat, exhausted. She closed her eyes to sleep. Tomorrow she would begin. She would master the power inside her—whether the dragon or the elders thought she was ready or not. This was her journey to ascension, and she would walk it on her own terms.

The next morning, Afiyara woke up, the familiar sounds of the village easing her into consciousness. She opened her eyes to see the rays of sunlight piercing through the gaps in the Nyûmba Nene walls. It was a place she had known all her life—a village that held the history of her ancestors. But now, it felt too small. The serpent within her, though quiet for now, still hummed with untapped power, a reminder that this place, while home, could no longer contain her destiny.

She stepped outside, breathing in the crisp morning air, her eyes scanning the village she once sought to lead. For years, she had left this land, seeking education and success in the bustling world beyond. The city had opened her eyes to a new way of life, and while her heart was rooted here, she now knew that her future lay elsewhere—somewhere larger, grander, where the true extent of her power could grow. Returning here after years in the modern world had felt like coming full circle, but the path she was meant to take was no longer here.

Afiyara’s feet took her to the sacred house where the elders gathered. Inside, the flickering firelight cast shadows on the weathered faces of those who had watched over her since childhood. They looked up as she entered, already knowing what she had come to say.

“I’m leaving,” she said, her voice steady, though there was a weight in her chest. “There is nothing more for me here.”

Wanjikû Wa Mûthoni nodded slowly. “We knew this day would come. Your journey is no longer tied to this village, Afiyara. You carry the serpent’s power within you. To master it, you must seek beyond our wisdom.”

Afiyara swallowed the lump in her throat. “I thought I could return and take my place here, lead the tribe, but now I see... I was meant for something more.”

The woman stepped forward, placing her hands gently on Afiyara’s shoulders. “You were always meant for greatness, child. But greatness comes with a price. The world beyond this village is vast, and not all who walk the path of power return. Remember this: strength does not come from controlling the serpent alone. It comes from knowing when to let go of it.”

Afiyara’s brow furrowed as she considered her words. “Let go?” she asked. “How can I let go when it’s a part of me?” The elder smiled faintly, her eyes twinkling with the wisdom of ages. “The serpent’s power is ancient, but it is not all that defines you. Your strength lies in your heart, your mind, and your will. Don’t let the serpent consume you, Afiyara. Balance will be your greatest ally.”

Afiyara nodded, though the meaning of those words would take time to sink in. She stepped back, looking at the faces of those who raised her, who guided her through the first steps of her transformation. There was no animosity, only acceptance. The time had come for her to walk her own path.

“I am ready." she said, her voice soft but resolute. She stood tall as the elder rose her staff high, her voice rising in a chant that echoed through the house. The other elders joined in, their voices blending in ancient harmony. The sacred fire flared up as if responding to their call, and Afiyara felt a warmth radiating through her.

Wanjikû then placed her hand on Afiyara’s head. “We call upon Ngai, our god, the creator and protector of our people. We call upon the ancestors, those who came before, who guide us still. Bless this child, Afiyara, as she walks the path of power. May her heart remain pure, her will unbroken, and her spirit guided by your light.”

Afiyara closed her eyes as the power of the words flowed through her. It was not just the serpent’s energy that filled her now, but something warm, something rooted deep in her bloodline. She felt the presence of Ngai and the ancestors surrounding her, watching her, protecting her as she went into her destiny.

The chant ended, and the elder removed her hand from her head, offering a smile laced with pride and sorrow. “You are blessed, Afiyara. But remember, no blessing comes without trials. The world beyond this village will test you. But you will not walk alone.”

With a deep breath, she nodded. “Thank you. I will not forget.”

With one last glance at the elders, Afiyara turned and walks toward the edge of the village. The sun was fully up now, casting light over the distant hills. She took a deep breath, adjusting the backpack slung over her shoulder, and began her journey.

Behind her, she heard the whispers of the villagers, some in awe, some in fear. The elders stood at the edge of the sacred house, watching her go, their presence a quiet reminder of the wisdom they had imparted. But now, she would have to rely on her own strength.

The river roared faintly in the distance, a reminder of the ancestral dragon and the power that still coursed through her veins. She walked toward it, determined to understand and to master the serpent’s gift on her own terms.

Her empire would rise. Of that, she was certain.

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