The Boy Who Killed A God: VIII

“Oh? The boy knows his stuff.” Komfo Anokye’s surprise lasted only a moment. He recovered soon enough and was back to his smiling self. He could feel his soul trembling in excitement. The tremble was slight and almost inconspicuous. But anyone well trained in the art of souls could discern this. And that was why Komfo Anokye praised Mane. For clearly Mane had associated his trembling soul to his bloodline.

Keira was silent. Her eyes were focused on Mane, so much so that the young boy was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. But he didn’t want to show his ancestors any disrespect, so he didn’t comment on it or show any obvious signs of discomfort. The issue was that Mane was in the presence of one of the greatest minds to have ever roamed the true universe. He stood before the man who had earned Ananse’s – a goddess of wisdom’s – respect. Komfo Anokye saw right through Mane’s discomfort with his discerning eyes and chuckled.

“Forgive us Mane. My sister is a bit terrified to meet you.”