King Ka'nyì

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|Ka'nyì

Origin: Yorùbá Language

In a sentence: E je ka'nyì

Meaning: Let us praise him. Someone worthy of praise|

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Kaleidoscopic tracery patterns reflecting off the overhead rose window shone down to form a spotlight on the upturned fauteuil. Dust particles floated, sluggishly, under the pale supervision of the moonlight. Down they went towards the wooden structure, which accepted each bestowed grime as reward for its stoicism.

Just as the chair, I had been here a very long time. I daresay I was gathering dust as well.

In hindsight, the antique velvet fauteuil was one of my most prized possession. Along with the imperial ceramic vase that had being shattered, its jagged bits and pieces adorning the Persian rug and the luxury-scented candles that were now rattling in their ruby placements on the rustic chandelier. Any moment now and they too would topple onto the already disarrayed rug and set it ablaze.

Chinasa bellowed again and even with my gaze still assessing the damage she had wrought; I knew she was inundated under another violent trance. I massaged my temples, slowly, to neutralize the brewing emotional outburst within me before I drew in a lung-full of oxygen from the already suffocating chamber. Walking towards the fauteuil, I righted its overturned form and finger-snapped the luminous energy atop the candles into oblivion. Lest the luscious tresses that fawned over part of the rug were engulfed in bright, energetic flames.

Considering the damage to my property, reprisal in that form was so tempting I almost relit the candles.

"Remind me again why your gods have this 'uncanny' way of ensuring that every violent trance always occurs whenever you are in my castle..." I mused, dusting off the upholstered arms of the fauteuil. At the same instant, a movement to my left eyes' peripheral vision called my attention to the advancement of the priestess overseeing the rite. "...because I'm starting to think enduring the overbearing sourcer isn't the worst punishment they have so graciously bestowed upon me,"

I went about setting myself comfortably on the plush seat as I heard the rhythmic jingle of her cowrie shell anklets bring her closer and closer to where I rested.

"My King, it is with utmost regret that I ask for your forgiveness," she rasped, bowing her shaved-cut head adorned with African tribal drawings.

The effusive white paint travelled down half the side of her face and towards her arm, exposed stomach and legs. Its depiction expressed the rich folklore of ancestral divination and its relevance to the changing phases of the moon, which lined her arms.

The Sky Lordians took representation in the multifaceted anthropomorphic illustration with five heads by her arched back. The first head belonged to the Lion, symbolizing strength and pride. The Cape buffalo graced the second head and symbolized fertility and nutrition. The third head held the Elephant, associated with patience, royalty and wisdom. The Rhino embodied the fourth head as well as the contradictory nature of the Sky Lordians to be fierce and savage while at times being passive and gentle.

Perhaps the most surprising anthropomorphic representation of the Sky Lordians among the greater beasts, previously mentioned, was the last head belonging to the Tortoise.

In my opinion, it encapsulated their whole existence aptly in that the creature symbolised their insidious, vindictive and clever nature.

Disrupting my further scrutiny of the graphic body art, she rose from her bow and continued to speak: "The energy here is much purer than at our coven and I surmise that this is the reason why her trances are extremely potent here,"

I fell back into my seat and released a deep-throated, disbelieving laugh that shook the four walls of the chamber. Surely, she didn't just use the word, pure, to describe my essence. At this point what was the difference between I and a monk?

"Did you just say purer?" I emphasized with a caustic tone and an arched brow.

The priestess in her six hundred and fifty years of existence continued to regard me with unfiltered honesty and the seriousness in her eyes snuffed out my laughter.

"Your gods have seriously cut through the very last thread of reserve I had left," I hissed with a drawn fang and glowing orbs of ember. Century old fury simmered out of its locked containment to ignite my thick dreadlocked crown.

My gaze narrowed on Chinasa who by now had calmed down and was hovering over the rug on a mist of cloudy essence with eyes that shone brighter than the sun. A Sky Lordian was here.

"You know, you spiteful Lords do hold quite the grudge hmm?" I patronized, aiming a jagged piece of ceramic at Chinasa with a flick of my wrist.

"My King, please you shouldn't," Safiyah, the priestess, mediated falling to her knees before me and placing her head by my feet as the ceramic piece evaporated into a mist of dust as it got close to Chinasa. "You could incur even far greater punishments if you show Lord Eyonah disrespect," she reasoned, indicating that Eyonah, the Sky Lordian of law and order, was in fact the wight whom had possessed Chinasa.

"Oh, how delightful," A saccharine smile lifted my lips and laced my words with disgust. "The one always doling out the punishments and..."

"Vampire King!" Eyonahs' hardy tone boomed from Chinasas' pert lips to cut off my resentful speech before it even begun. She crossed her legs atop the levitating mass of cloud and narrowed her gaze on me. "One more word out of you and losing your ability to be as fearsome as you once were will be the least of your punishments," she enforced, eyes blazing a shiny white.

Her words wedged the metaphoric stake in my heart even deeper, causing the bloody laceration to rupture and in turn my pent-up fury.

"And that's supposed to shut me up?" I questioned with a scoff and an incredulous eye roll. "You've enabled that sourcer to leach off my specie for centuries and cause the expression of the tPA gene in our saliva to regress. Thereby, robbing us of our ability to drink blood and turning us into grilled beef eaters," I began to count the punishments off my fingers. All the while evading her mental intrusions into my psyche, a compelling technique that was aimed at making me docile.

"At this point we are no better than humans and for you to think loosing my ability to be as fearsome as I once was is the crux of my problems when your cohort of Lords have basically turned my race into a hollow encasing of its former glory shows just how much sadistic fun you all are having at our expense," I rushed out, only stopping to take a breath when I hurled another ceramic piece at the suspended goddess before me.

As expected, the piece didn't come close to causing even the slightest of damages. However, Safiyah still paled at my brazen defiance and broke into a fervid ancient prayer that translated into a request for forgiveness on my behalf.

"Now to add even more salt to injury. My abode, my dwelling, the place of my essence...' I enunciated each word slowly, providing fodder to the already amassing fire within me as Eyoná rolled her eyes in boredom. "....is being referred to as 'pure'," I forced out, almost gagging when I pronounced the revolting word. "A euphemism that we all know stands for weak, submissive, useless and obedient,"

I finished my heated rant, only now left with the breathlessness that heaved my chest. If my memory served me correctly then this would be my four hundredth time doing this. In the exact format, albeit in different locations, to the one who had given my clan and I our burdensome crosses to bear. A classic déjà vu moment. Only that every time I released the monstrosity of destructive emotions, once a year to be precise, I left with even greater punishments. More like an appeal that went south.

I'm guessing the clan members wouldn't be happy with the newest addition to the stock pile.

"Are you done?" Eyonah droned, her chin in one palm and the other twirling an amassing depression within the cloud. "Or would you now like to state the positives of your punishments including but not limited to not having to sleep in coffins, garlics and wooden stakes are now ineffective, fights are a no-no considering you all are weak and lest I forget you all now have mirror reflections,"

At the exact moment she listed the last de-evolution effect, my gaze strayed to my reflection in one of the lancet windows and with a growl, I smashed through its glass.

"Just kill me already," I grunted through a clenched jaw.

"That would be the easy way out," she tutted, chastenedly with an unsympathetic smile. "Besides the aether panel has decided, for some reason, on one final condition to a possible lessening of your punishment. Think of it as a way to redeem yourself seeing as you are no stranger to recidivism," she deadpanned with a thumb and an index finger massaging the bridge of her nose in irritation. "I can't seem to understand why they haven't classified you as a lost cause yet," she added, not hiding the contempt in her voice.

Who could blame her? I had just about violated all the past conditions to my now non-existent parole. However, I still stood by the reasoning that it was their fault asking of me to stay away from all the vices that were deeply tied to my very nature. Womanizing, alcohol consumption, gambling, the list was endless.

"What's the condition this time?" I groaned as Safiyah helped to clean the cut on my knuckles.

"You are to assist the prophesied white-wolf accomplish the mission which has been bestowed by the Lords," she breezed, impatient to get the ordeal over with.

Safiyah perked up at the order, halting the movement of the gauze over my palm as her eyes widened in realisation. "I knew I felt a very powerful presence," she breathed.

"Please tell me you are joking," I chuckled, removing my hand from Safiyahs' grasp and settling on the fauteuil. "Okay then, I pass on that. Next option," I continued when Eyoná arched an eyebrow.

"It's not like you are in a position to determine what you'd like your condition to be if given an array of options. More so, they aren't any other options," she snapped, strikes of lightening attesting to her growing anger and annoyance. "You know for someone who committed one of the greatest atrocities in history you act as if the Lords have wronged you by apportioning punishment where it is due,"

"I think I've served enough of my time," I retorted with a shrug and in that second, I regretted not reigning in my sharp tongue. For all at once the grand piano was hurled towards my form.

The impact was excruciating to say the least as I struggled to breath under its crushing weight. Curse these slow reflexes and weak arm muscles.

"I knew granting you the same punishment as Esméralda would be more befitting," she seethed, the once pristine cloud turning pitch black.

"Has she been reincarnated again?" I blurted out against my better judgement to refrain from being inquisitive.

Nothing good ever came from it anyway.

"After her vicious death at the Chain war wouldn't you like to know?" she taunted with an outstretched palm over the grand piano. The keyboard dug even deeper into my ribs and elicited a vicious cough up of blood.

"You will assist in the mission and that is final," Eyonah ordered in a still compelling voice. "In exchange your powers as well as the powers of a few members of your clan will be restored, temporarily, with the exception of the ability to suck blood. This restoration only serves to assist the white-wolf..." the mass of angry cloud drifted to where I lay, pinned down by the grand piano. Here, she placed a hand by my neck and continued: "...and to ensure that it stays that way, I'll have you and the select clan members tagged,"

With that, Chinasa convulsed and began to foam at the mouth. Her sparkly eyes rolled to the back of her head and down she went into Safiyahs' waiting arms, flailing her hands and grunting maniacally.

A rush of energy coursed wildly through my blood stream to ignite the whole length of my protracted fangs and claws. My eyes glowed crimson just as my back arched up and my bones cracked with strength. Lifting the grand piano off my body, I flung it into the bricked wall with relish.

My power. It was restored.

I fisted and relaxed my palms, amazed by the vitality and tenacity they now seemed to hold. Gliding effortlessly beneath my slender fingers, I felt my face morph into its long-lost supple and youthful skin texture.

The Sky Lordian had really given me back my powers and actually expected me to stay true to that farce of a bargain.

I let out an amused laughter as the wounded tissue on my palms regenerated to leave behind a smooth skin devoid of any scar.

Oh, Eyonah was going to regret this decision because what had she said about tags?

It was high time the Sky Lordians caught onto the fact that tags were as easily destroyable as toilet paper. All it took was one unbinding spell and I'd be free of its hindering moral barrier. So I ask again what exactly had she said about tags and how they'd ensure I'd assist some white-wolf.

What a joke!

Just wait until I reunite with the clan members who had being restored, I mused, drafting up my mental hit list and tuning out Chinasas' disoriented mumbles regarding her trance.

Absentmindedly, I picked up a shard of broken glass and peered into it. The handsomeness of my features distracted me from the fact that if truly my powers were fully restored, I wouldn't be able to view my reflection. The euphoric haze was shattered though, as I looked closely at my features and detected the leather choker by my neck.

No, no, no, no, no, I blanched, dropping the glass and attracting Safiyah and Chinasas' attention.

The bastard had tagged me with a fricking slave collar. One that was rarely used, if used at all.

It seemed I was the joke now because I was indeed royally cuffed.

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