Chapter 1: Blood Bird Tribe

Anarungu stood over the dead body. He couldn’t believe it.

His father was dead. He had been dastardly poisoned. Someone from his tribe had done it. He knew it for a fact.

Chief Anaragwan’s body lay on a pedestal, among the huts and trees, surrounded by the priests and tribesmen of Blood Bird.

Anarungu gripped his spear tightly, holding back his anger as the priests prepared to burn the body.

“Hush, my nestling.” His mother touched his shoulder, feeling the anger that came over him.

“I am calm, Mother.” Anarungu didn’t want to look at her. He glanced to the other end of the crowd, where, with his head proudly raised, stood the curse of the Blood Bird tribe. It was Chief Anaragwan’s brother - Naragasa, Anarungu’s uncle.

“Traitor had long wished to take my father’s place.”

His mother silently stroked his head, not hearing his angry words, and stood beside him. He looked at her.

She looked beautiful, the chief’s wife with long black dreadlocks and large breasts with bulging nipples whose majesty was never hidden by any clothing. The women of the tribe did not wear outer garments that covered their breasts, much less the chief’s wife. So it was hard for him to look at her.

Her full-of-life voluptuous breasts with bulging pink nipples drove him crazy and filled his head with the most horrid thoughts.

“She’s my Mama, the one who gave me life, like Mother Earth or Mother Sky—Mother Gnelsey. My Mother. Can I think the same way of earth or sky, food or water?

On the other hand, I am a man. I have to mate and produce new children. And my mother is a woman, just like the others. Is it wrong that I find her attractive?”

He turned away, swallowing, feeling the tension in his chest and below his legs.

What mattered most now was not his complicated relationship with his mother, but the fact that his father was dead. The tribe chief had been killed.

“Brothers and sisters of the Blood Bird tribe,” one of the elders spoke in the tribal throat language.”

“Today, our hearts wrapped with sorrow because we lost someone special. We gathered here today to say goodbye to our great leader, the great Anaragwan the Great Ara. His feathers like fire lit our path.

Anaragwan was wise, like a sturdy tree that provided comfort and protection. He possessed strength, comparable to a bow ready to face any challenge thrown at him by fate. We, the Blood Bird, will always be thankfull for the peace he brought into our lives. Now, as his wings carry him into eternal life, we will carry on his legacy. May Anaragwan the Great Ara find peace. At last. Goodbye, Anaragwan.”

Several men pointed torches toward the body, red feathers on their heads. They shouted, beginning to sing as the fire engulfed the body.

The priests began to sing along and beat their drums, seeing the chief off on his last journey.

Anarungu sighed, lowering his spear. His eyes, painted with red lines, stared at Naragasa again.

“I will avenge you, father.”

“Would you like some berries, Anarungu? You’ll feel better, I’m sure.” His good friend Tatar’Atu held out a handful of red berries.

“I can’t stand these things.” Anarungu twisted the bowstring tighter on his bow, checking its integrity.

“You’ve never even tasted one.” Said the other guy next to him, sharpening his spear.

“And I’m not going to.”

“That’s because Naragasa found them,” Tatar’Atu said and smiled. “You hate everything he does. He has helped the tribe a lot, you have to admit that.”

“He is the curse of the tribe!” Anarungu broke his bow in rage.” I’m sure he poisoned my father with these berries.”

“We ate them and didn’t die yet. The whole tribe eats them.” Said the fourth in the company, a long-haired hunter with a large scar on his shoulder.

“I don’t know how he did it yet, but I will get to the truth.” Anarungu looked down at his bow with a sigh. “How will I go hunting now?”

“Are you already preparing for the Great Tribal Hunt?” Tatar’Atu smiled.

“I heard that the Elder will announce it in a few cycles!” The third spear-wielding friend, whose name was Lazy Peacock, looked at everyone excitedly.

“I’m unlikely to participate,” Anarungu said quietly, but no one noticed.

“A new Tribe Chief will be elected through the Great Hunt. The last time it was held was 40 phases ago when Anaragwan became Chief, “Peacock said.

“What are the rules of the Hunt?” Tatar’Atu looked at him with interest.

“No one knows,” the long-haired scarred guy said, rubbing his shoulder. “But I think the name says it all. We’ll have to hunt. The most important thing in the hunt is not to run into a lynx.”

“I just lost my father. Let’s not talk about this hunt and the election of a new chief, shall we? “ Anarungu started to make a new bow.

“If you say so.” All three of them said in unison, popping some more of the sweet red berries into their mouths.

Anarungu looked at the berries in a bag. Naragasa had discovered them somewhere in a remote part of the jungle a couple of phases ago. Since then, he had fed them to the entire tribe and often disappeared from the camp to bring more. For this, he was loved and honored. Even the chief himself, Anaragwan, liked berries, which saved the tribe from starvation on difficult days.

But Anarungu had never seen Naragasa himself eat the berries. Why?

“Have you seen how big Gindotola’s breasts are already!?” Tatar’Atu’s eyes widened.

“Chief’s wife certainly has better ones,” said Scar. The trio turned to Anarungu, but it was as if he didn’t notice that they were talking about his Ma.

“I often watch my father copulate with my Mama. I can’t wait to try it myself with a woman,” said Peacock.

“My father copulates with my mother three times a day. He believes it will increase the chance of conceiving a child.”

“Three times is a lot. But I’m not seeing any results. It’s been four phases since the settlement has had a new child.” Scar said.

“Maybe it’s our tribe’s curse for eating berries,” Anarungu said casually.

“Hahaha. Sure.” All three of them gulped down the delicious berries again, coloring their mouths red.

“What if this really is some kind of curse and we are going to die out?!”

“Sooner or later things would get better.”

Anarungu just finished working on his bow when he noticed a large, tall man with long hair standing nearby. In his hand was a spear, his muscles glowing in the sun from sweat.

Naragasa looked different up close. “Anarungu. Let’s go with me.”

Anarungu got up and went after him, taking his spear and a new bow, and leaving his friends behind.

“How is your mother, Anarungu?” Naragasa had a menacing, bestial voice. He was three heads taller than Anarungu.

“She is mourning her husband and preparing for the Great Hunt to meet our new leader.”

“That’s good. After all, I will participate in the Hunt. She should be ready to welcome me as her new Chief and husband.”

Anarungu was silent; he followed, hiding his anger and pain.

“Tomorrow, I will go on the hunt for food. I want to take you with me. You are my brother’s son; you are my blood. I want to train you, ensure you’re not in danger, and see what my brother taught you before passing.”

They stopped at the chief’s house, at Anarungu’s hut. He continued to be silent.

“Do you still refuse to eat the berries? They satisfy hunger when there is no other meat.”

Anarungu didn’t answer.

“Well. I can’t force you to eat them. Tomorrow we’ll meet at the edge of the village. Be ready at the dawn.”

Naragasa walked away, and Anarungu watched him go. The big man had endured a lynx attack, been stabbed twice with a spear, and hit by three arrows in the back.

Yet, he’s still alive.

“How can I be sure he killed my father? And how can I take my revenge?”

Anarungu entered the hut. Inside it smelled of herbs, his mother was conducting a ritual to communicate with the spirits. She was sitting on her knees, crouching on the floor and afterward lifting her whole body up. While doing so, she hummed.

“Great spirits, I turn to you in this moment of despair. It has been a long time since we, the Blood Bird tribe, have seen newborn children. The curse lies upon us like a heavy burden, and we fear it will drag our future away.

Today, I, Gnelsey, ask you for help. Grant the gift of motherhood to our women. I’m begging you to bring joy and love to our tribe. Allow our women to experience the joy of motherhood once again. Thank you!” Her bare breasts shook, her nipples hitting the ground.