The Last Guardian of Old Father

There was a demon inside him. More than once he stumbled and fell on torn bloodclotted knees. Dust and mud matted his dark naked skin that had long given up its perspiration to the scorching savannah plain. Still he ran on, the rocks shearing his barefoot soles and tearing open the wounds where his toenails had been.

He lifted his gaze to the sun, willing his body to cease its struggling. If only it would let him die. If only the poison in his veins would end him. He lifted up his hands to the unknown deity of the wasteland to have mercy and rid him of his fate. His parched throat could only suffer a croak between cracked lips and swollen tongue. Bloodshot eyes closed in surrender.

 At once, a violent pain erupted in his stomach,  pain like a chain of hooks raking across his belly, throwing him flat on his face in the dust. Frantic, he writhed as an unseen force gripped the entire length of his body, contorting his limbs, arching his back over until his feet nearly touched the back of his head.

 "I will show you!" he gasped. "Please! Mercy! I will show you! "

 He  was gathered up again and  the running began anew. His body was not his own, and the force that moved his limbs asserted itself once again, driving him back to where his return was forbidden.
"Forgive me Old Father" he muttered.
***

The Wind was the first to reach N'dayo's ear and whispered to him the strange portends coming to the Hidden valley. Sitting on the branch of the ancient baobab, he watched the bedraggled figure run through the village boundaries, right up to the square. The villagers were startled, diving to avoid him as he ran this way and that, whirling his arms about him like a dust devil. There was an air of death about the man. Alarmed, N'dayo jumped from thebranch, landing squarely on both feet like a cat. He had sensed this man before he saw him and the tension had only increased the closer he'd gotten to the village.

"Ho! Stop him! Stop that man!" N'dayo called out to the young men as he neared the huts. At the sound of his voice, they were steeled and sprang into action, as swift as young leopards. Their spears, ever at their side, now formed around the stranger.  He stank of rot and blood, his dry skin now cracked, leaking a slime that seeped from virtually every opening in his body. The men were brave, but none stepped closer than their line. This was not a task for a spear or a long knife.

N'dayo stepped forward cautiously. "Who are you? Where have you come from?"

Opening his mouth, the stranger pitched forward and spurted blood, aimed directly at N'dayo, who sidestepped deftly. The blood hit the soil where he had been a moment before. It blackened the spot and a single red mushroom appeared.

The villagers shrank back in shock and horror. N'dayo's eyes remained fixed on the man, but his hands were at his pouch. He whipped out a piece of dark tortoise shell, and held it in front of him.

A menacing grin streaked across the face of the bloody figure, and an ethereal voice came from him, though the lips did not move. It was a deep full voice, like the rumbling in the clouds and all who heard it, even N'dayo, kept silent.

"You're tricks will no longer avail you, Guardian. I have come for the old father, the life of your people, and what little he has taught you will not save you. Submit to me and I may consider sparing your sheep. Bring me to the ancient one!"

N'dayo knew better than to speak again to the demon. Their strength was in lies and he could not give in to doubt. All around him the village was thrown into chaos, as the people's fear got the best of them. Some clamored for surrender, others for retreat. N'dayo had but one option.

With hands that moved in a blur, he threw four small pebbles on the ground. He sat in front of the demon and concentrated his energies. The pebbles vibrated, suddenly brought to life. Scouring the ground, they whipped around the demon and around N'dayo, two intercepting circles to represent their lock.

"Your pebbles may hold the man, whisperer, but what do you think of this?" The demon retched again, spewing countless red serpents onto the ground. They writhed about, but they could not escape the circle, burned as they touched the boundaries. Slowly they gathered again, forming a large black snake. Its tail flicked at the man who had once been its shell, and the husk burned to ash as it touched the boundary.

N'dayo clasped his hands together and rose up on one knee. The pebbles spun faster and faster, closing the circle tighter. The great snake spun in all directions, trying to weaken the boundary. With each turn it burned a little more, with each struggle the ring touched more of its flesh.

Suddenly it stilled itself, and the voice came out once more, "My work is complete. The old father is mine!"

In a rush of thick smoke, it vanished. N'dayo remained still for some moments, while the pebbles continued their circular dance around the ashes.

"N'dayo! N'dayo, come quick! The tree!"

His eyes flashed open and he turned to where the red mushroom had been. There was nothing but a dry husk, with no spores to be seen. At once, he rose and ran to the ancient baobab at the center of the village. Many of the villagers already stood staring, tears streaming down their faces. Some had begun to wail. The tree was covered in countless little red mushrooms, no doubt sprouting from the spores of the one thing N'dayo had failed to destroy.

"I have failed you, old father."