“Throughout human history, the concept of destiny has been an ever-present force, whether we embrace it or not. It’s like a shadow, inseparable from our existence, trailing behind us as we journey through life. This shadow, intimately connected to our fate, is a constant reminder that we are bound by a preordained path.
In a world over a millennium ago, our story unfolds. King Damina, filled with determination, ascends a towering mountain. Behind him are his loyal Waziri and a retinue of nobles, their faces etched with apprehension. A destitute man approaches King Damina, his eyes filled with desperation. He pleads with the king to intercede on behalf of his son, Rabo. The boy’s life hangs in the balance after a tragic accident during childbirth.
Before the man can utter another word, King Damina, with a commanding presence, silences him with a single gesture. Waziri, recognizing his king’s wishes, kneels beside the distraught man. Nobles in attendance express their gratitude, praising King Damina for his compassion and for beseeching Queen Sha-kundum’s divine intervention. The queen, it is said, holds the key to restoring the prince’s health.
Yet, the king’s verdict is swift and stern. He decrees that the man’s body, along with his ailing child, be incinerated. Furthermore, the woman responsible for the incident must undergo a gruesome ritual, involving a colossal idol. Her fate, as decreed by King Damina, is a grim one.
This is the way of their people, an ancient tradition upheld every time they enter the cavernous depths of the mountain. Each person cuts their finger and marks the idol with their blood. The idol, carrying weapons of war, bows before a female figure, signifying submission.
Undeterred by the impending madness that lurks within the mountain, King Damina and his loyal Waziri lead the way. As they enter the cave, they encounter a peculiar sight—a modern witch, surrounded by pots and protected only by a banana leaf. She awaits their arrival in the heart of the mountain’s darkness.”
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