I find it rather unfortunate that fanfiction isn’t considered proper writing just because of copyright infractions and that a large percentage of it is truly atrocious. I had my fiction writing beginnings in that world of bad writing and every now and then, I will indulge and pen some terrible and insignificant fanfiction. So this is a piece loosely based off of this story here. Have a go.
The cry echoed through the house, making the very foundation of the small structure shake. She groaned as she heard the cracks winding their way further into the walls and crossed her arms in irritation while she glared at the man standing before her.
“You’ve got to stop doing that,” she breathed out in frustration just before she flopped down on one of the chairs in the living room.
The seats were old and the wood creaked every time it bore weight; she was sure that they would give way pretty soon, when an unfortunate soul flopped into them for the last time.
“You’re my daughter, Annet; you do not tell me what to do,” the man before her spoke gruffly, his anger still evident in his tone.
“Father, please…” she started, trailing off as she considered what she’d say next.
Her father was a volatile man and was often quick to anger especially where his children were concerned but Annet knew that it stemmed from good intentions; overprotective intentions, even. She looked closely at her father, trying to not cringe at the white paint still covering his face from his daily activities. The man worked hard to protect them but she was tired of holding back and sticking to her father’s beliefs.
“Father, have a seat, please. I won’t try to leave before we’ve discussed this at the very least, I promise.”
Her father glared at her and Annet held the look, having grown enough to not shrink before the power in that gaze. They stared at each other for a few seconds before the older man looked away with a small smile playing about on his lips. She was glad for it too for while her power had grown, it was still nothing compared to her father’s.
“Speak child, I will hear what you have to say,” he spoke, his tone a little calmer.
Annet watched and waited for him to be seated in his signature chair – which groaned and creaked beneath his weight – before she started to make her case.
“I know that the rivalry between the Mages and the Abasezi has been going on since before you were born but things have begun to quieten down now, father. I want… I want to be able to practice what you have taugh-”
“You will do no such thing!” the older man snapped, leaning forward in his chair as he gripped the armrests.
Sheila glanced up at the lights which had flickered beneath the energy he had expended with his command and tried to keep the indignation she felt from showing on her face.
“I am not a little girl anymore, you cannot forbid me as you wish,” she said, hoping she could maintain the calm tone long enough to get her father on her side.
“Evidently you still need to be hemmed in if you’re thinking of these ridiculous ideas. Do you not know what the Abasezi would do to you if they caught you practising? Do you not know what the humans will do to you if they even suspected a smidge of what you are capable? Have you learned nothing?”
She could feel the power start to waft off her father’s body and took a deep breath, hoping that he could hold it together so that the house didn’t come falling down on them again. The threadbare carpet beneath them fluttered and she spied a few cracks where the cemented floor could be seen.
“Father, please; the house. It’s got enough cracks already. Please just let me finish what I was going to say.”
The man stared at her before passing a hand across his face, smudging the white paint in the process. “Fine, continue.”
“I know that you do what you do for Joseph and me and ever since what happened to mother you’re doing the best you can but… but being a Jjaja isn’t enough for me, father. That’s not what I want to do.”
“Oh, let me guess, you want to do your own summoning and start up a practice? Register with the government and be like those dogs they use to suppress the spirits of the citizens when they want, so the people don’t rise up against them? You’d like to be an envoy of this government?”
Annet bristled at her father’s derisive tone and tried to contain the energy that was building up in her.
“As a matter of fact, yes. Yes I want to do my own summoning and I have almost completed the steps required for getting my first Kalabanda!” she snapped in retaliation.
“No child of mine will ever-”
“I will do what I want, father, I am not a child anymore!” she barked, cutting her father off and finally deciding that she didn’t care if her energy escaped.
The walls of the house trembled again and a few more cracks appeared in the walls, not that it mattered anymore, the house was already doomed when she got there earlier in the day anyway.
“You danced, and sang, and played witchdoctor for many villages so that they didn’t hunt us down when anything weird happened with us. So long as you used your power to help them, they were willing to overlook almost anything. You protected Joseph and me after mother left and you did it well, but you don’t have to do this anymore, father. To debase yourself…”
She was getting more emotional than she’d originally thought she’d be and hadn’t considered how much energy she’d be expending as more and more cracks appeared in the walls. “You don’t have to do this anymore. You can do whatever you want instead of painting yourself and moving from village to village every 3 decades or so. I want you to grant me that same courtesy.”
She was begging even though she knew the futility of it all; her father was set in his ways. A few centuries of doing the same things over and over again would do that to someone.
“Annet, my girl…” her father began before he trailed off, frowning and looking almost so desperate for her to understand him that she had to look away in shame. “Annet, I love you and I want you to achieve everything you set out to do, but you do not understand what you’re asking of me.”
“I know, father, I know what you went through to-”
“No, my child, you do not know,” her father insisted, cutting her off. “I was raised in the Kabaka’s palace, when my parents died. They didn’t know what I was and neither did I, not at the start anyway, but when people started having misfortunes befalling them, people who had been unkind to me, the guards started getting suspicious. And the Basezi…those bastards!”
Her father went silent as his voice cracked at the end, letting the energy he’d shot out at the memory dissipate first before he looked at her. Annet sat still, knowing how rare these moments were when her father delved into his past and not wanting him to feel more grieved than he already looked.
“Do you even know what the Kalabanda do? How difficult they are to control?” he asked, going off on a tangent and acting as if he hadn’t just delved into a past that was still as mysterious to her as it had been 50 years ago when she’d been a child.
“I know, father, but they are simple spirits that we allow into our world by binding them to us. I know most Mages don’t care enough to control theirs but I will not let mine go on a murdering spree. I swear it.”
“Your vow means nothing now, not until you have been tested. The Basezi are still active, even if the war has been over for almost 100 years now. If they find you with a Kalabanda they will-”
“The Abasezi are not murderers anymore, father. I’ve met a few of them and they’re just simply trying to live normally,” she said, feeling that most of her anger had dissolved enough for her to confront her father about the prejudices he had.
“They’re necromancers, Annet!” he snapped in irritation. “They feed on the flesh of the dead and gain their abilities from the dark arts they perform on them. What about that can be considered normal?”
“Well what about what you do can be considered normal?” she retorted, unable to stop herself despite knowing that her father had a good reason to hate the Abasezi.
“Most of what I do, child, is buried in superstition and useless rituals. The humans cannot know about our power.”
“I know, I know but don’t you think that any remaining hostility between us and the Abasezi is perpetuated by most of the older Mages?” Annet asked, noting the offended look on her father’s face but deciding to continue anyway. “I mean I know most of the Mages who were active in the war were killed but many of the ones still alive today remember that war; they still hold grudges. On the other hand, all the Abasezi who participated in the war are dead and have been so for 2 generations now. Most of the ones alive now don’t even kill people to feed, they just go to the graves and that doesn’t hurt anyone. So any hostility is not really the fault of the current ones.”
“Our ability to age slowly doesn’t mean that we do not forgive but how can you expect us to forget?” her father grumbled.
“That’s my whole point, father. You may not forget but the Abasezi don’t even know what really happened back then. I have little to fear from them and that’s why I just want to practice and do what I can.”
Her father sighed as he passed his hand across his face again and looked at her, resignation evident in his eyes.
“But what will you do with your power then? You’d have to be discreet and not a lot of jobs are available which don’t require being involved in the government.”
“Well actually, Matiya and I had an idea-”
“Matiya?” her father spat the name like it was curse. “That Msezi child Joseph adopted?”
“Father, he is your grandson, adopted or not. You have to get used to it; it’s been like 20 years now.”
“The Basezi will always side with their own and even though you two have taught him to fight evil, no matter which side it’s from, what happens when he decides that the evil he needs to fight is you?”
“He is my nephew and your grandson. If he decides he’s hot shit and wants to take us on, he’ll get a thrashing he won’t soon forget,” she responded with a small smile.
“That city life has ruined you and your-” her father started before he was cut off with a loud crashing sound.
Annet jumped out of the sofa alarmed, turning to look at her father who looked nonchalant as he enveloped her in his energy and the walls of the house fell around them, large chunks exploding when they came in contact with her father’s power.
Great. This again.