AVAGE NEGRO will be in intermission for several weeks as we pause to celebrate the birth of our firstborn and adjust to his being in the forefront of our lives. In the meantime, enjoy the tale thus far!

haka Zulu narrows his eyes and surveys the expanse of The Great Divide. The pristine, marble and stone plateaus are empty of the citizenship he has grown accustomed.

With the suns of the Waking Eye bearing down on him, both cast a light so bright his own shadow has escaped him.

Shaka clutches the iklwa in his hand and raises a leather shield with the other. A thousand voices chanting his name overcomes the metropolis.

Taking one step forward and then another, each quicker than the last, Shaka Zulu begins to run.

From the other side, Galan, Sixth Conscience and Champion of The Great Divide takes aim with a finger at the mass of a thousand black robed acolytes storming towards them.

Galan himself grits his teeth and begins a slow jog, and with each step, comes of stride, and charges headlong towards the wave.

Behind him, the heralds of the First Conscience follow in his footsteps, in pursuit of victory for the glory of the one who birthed them.

he pathways to the center of The Great Divide are empty and the curious eyes of its citizens nowhere to be found.

Still, Nileen hears the thoughts of the invisible. Their curiosity, fear, and anxiety bombard her from all directions. Pausing for a moment, she steps out of the formation and composes herself.

Sundiata stops beside her.

“What is it?”

“They fear us”, she replies.

“No, they fear him,” Sundiata motions with his eyes towards the Zulu king, “and rightfully so. He is powerful, violent, and still we do not know if he can be trusted.”

“He will be unleashed, my sister. To dispatch the Champion of The Great Divide.”

Nileen looks into the eyes of the Fifth Conscience. “Eidan?”

“You and I will face our father alone. It is fitting that he die in a manner similar to…”

She turns away as a lump begins to swell in her throat. “I want this to be over, Sundiata.”

“Soon, my sibling. Soon, and very soon.”

haka Zulu gazes into the blinding stare of the Waking Eye. On the horizon below, the expanse of The Great Divide opens up before him.

At his side is Nileen. Third Conscience of The Great Divide. Daughter of the Waking Eye.

Sundiata. Fifth Conscience of The Great Divide. Brother of the Third Conscience. Resurrected from the dead.

Nicodemus. Fourth Conscience of The Great Divide. Protector of the Sangoma and master to the acolytes.

Sundiata, Nileen whispers in her brother’s thoughts, what will transpire here — it will change everything.

It must change everything. No matter the cost. Sundiata turns to look down into his sisters eyes.

The Waking Eye shines on us, he tells her, but her light is overshadowed by the evil of the First Conscience. He must fall.

Nicodemus steps between them and places his strong powerful hands on both of their shoulders.

We stand as one. We fight as one, so that the light will shine even brighter tomorrow.

Shaka Zulu turns back to look at his allies, but says nothing.

His thoughts are on the coming battle. His muscles and tendons flex in response to his visualizing each thrust of his assegai, each blow with his shield, and his newfound powers forged in The Great Divide itself.

The warrior king sees himself through to victory in every step of his minds eye, ending with the blood shed of the First Conscience and his proclaiming the beginning of his reign over this vast new kingdom.

Casting his eyes back towards the horizon, he begins to advance towards the center of the metropolis. Towards the ones who felled Godongwana.

Each step towards the battle as sure as he pictured it moments before.

ll eyes are on the First Conscience as he approaches the terrace. The heralds do not clap, nor yell any affirmations of the one they call Father.

Their wraps simply bear the symbol of the one who now commands them with his very thoughts.

he First Conscience of The Great Divide smiles.

“The Savage Negro inspires our adversaries to action”, Galan reports. The First Conscience does not turn to face him, and instead continues to stare into the eye of an oversized orb that the Champion of The Great Divide does not recognize.

“Eidan?”

Your account does not fall on deaf ears, Galan. Patience…

“Patience?” Galan steps forward and removes his helmet. “If what you say is true and Nicodemus has ordered his acolytes to advance…”

When the time is right, they must endure the weight of our own power. The acolytes will be overwhelmed by our heralds.

Galan’s low rumbling voice echoes like the sound of thunder in Eidan’s ears as the Sixth Conscience now stands beside him.

“I wish to lead them, Eidan.”

…and you shall, my friend. You will lead, and they will follow. Our enemies will be but dust beneath our feet…

he Champion of The Great Divide looks over the terrace at the vast city itself. In the light of the Waking Eye the people of The Great Divide dot the landscape, going about their business, tending to their responsibilities, and serving their functions.

To the northwest, the lower-territories remain hidden, shadowed, and ugly. A dark cloud hangs over the area in a strange contrast of nature to the metropolis of the divide. Lightning rumbles in the vast clouds and reaches towards the lower territories itself.

The Sixth Conscience watches, mesmerized by this show of nature. In defiance the cloud spreads even wider and looks to cross into the light of The Great Divide. He closes his eyes tight and reopens them. Focusing on the darkness, he can see the shadow spreading.

A wave of dark battling the cities shores of light. The lightning strikes again. The sea of darkness spills onto the shores of light as if urged by the clouds themselves.

And then he sees them.

Hundreds of robed, dark clad figures advancing with the quick step past the outer banks. His eyes narrow as they focus even more. Lightning courses throughout the wave and in the rumble, a name begins to tickle his ear.

They are screaming. Yelling.

For a moment his stomach tightens. He recognizes the war-cry as the acolytes advance on the cityscape.

“ZULU!”

idan dreams of a better future.

The light of the Waking Eye burns only half as bright in his minds eye. The lower-territories of The Great Divide have caved in on themselves as the free-thinking spirit of those who opposed him is buried under the rubble.

Heralds stand ready to receive his every thought and the citizenry of The Great Divide honor and revere him in the temple that once was the celebration place for the Waking Eye. Only now, in his hour of triumph, all thoughts lead to him.

A thousand open minds respond in kind as the First Conscience of The Great Divide settles into a comfortable seating position. Alongside him stands the Sixth Conscience and Champion of The Great Divide.

Before them are the heralds. An unstoppable force of his own will. Ready to submit themselves completely for the glory of their new divine.

A god among gods.

he First Conscience of The Great Divide drinks in the intoxication of a thousand open minds as he walks among them in the hidden birth-chamber sanctuary below his dwelling. Galan, Champion of The Great Divide, follows close behind.

The heralds lie awake in their open chambers, their glowing eyes staring in the darkness, focused on nothing. The First Conscience imprints each as he walks by, passing his hand over their eyes and closing them. A hypnotic wave washes over each herald as Eidan moves on.

A watchful orb moves up and down the rows of the birthing chamber, checking vitals, “…097…confirmed…098…confirmed…”.

Eidan nods his head, acknowledging each herald who successfully blends in harmonious accord with his mind. Boundless power folded onto itself a thousand times.

“…105…confirmed…106…confirmed…”

he acolyte composes himself before continuing.

“The Sangoma has spoken…a thousand seeds planted, beware the wind that blows…”

Sundiata, Nileen, and Nicodemus all three look at each other. Shaka Zulu presses forward to the acolyte and places his large, heavy hand on the acolytes shoulder.

“Do not speak of mysteries, young one,” he says as he stars into the acolytes eyes, “reveal the nature of the Sangoma’s revelation.”

It means, Sundiata steps forth and fills the whole of Shaka Zulu’s mind, it means the First Conscience has broken the birthing chambers and awakened the others.

“Which others?” the Zulu king questions.

Nicodemus, Fourth Conscience of The Great Divide adjusts his wraps and hooding, and tightens the straps around his legs before rising.

It means, Eidan has awakened the others — like me.