Blessed with the powers of an African God, Tamsyn is the only Orisha to be born in the last century. Or so she believes. Desperate to protect the rest of her family, she swore to never step foot back on African soil. All of that changed when she heard that her baby brother was all grown up and set to be married. One week. A forgotten family. And all of the stolen kisses an Orisha can salvage. Tamsyn realises quite quickly that coming home was the worst thing she could have ever done for the family she wants to protect.
View More“What seems to be the matter, Lucas?” Dr van Vuuren asked the blonde man.He had a stressed look on his face as he sat down on the nurse’s bed.“The matter, doc, is that my friend has just misplaced his last brain cell,” Tamsyn said with a bored tone as she stood beside the nurse.“Well, I’m sorry for being concerned. Forgive me for caring about my friend’s mental deuteriation,” Tamsyn rolled her eyes, “Oh, don’t even start. You slept with fish face, Linda, fish face!” he stressed and fell back onto the nurse’s bed dramatically with his face buried in her hands. This only earned a giggle from the nurse. The brunette woman was highly amused and all too familiar with the friends’ dynamic by now. She didn’t even speak, only nudged the blonde nag-pot off the bed and waltzed out the room leaving the echo of her laughter in her wake.Once the woman
“Sonny! Tam-son! Tamsyn!” Lucas yelled out as he banged on his best friend’s bedroom door. He was holding her new training suit in one hand while he knocks on the door with his other. “I got your uniform, jackass. Open the door or I’ll slide it under and let you explain to headmaster why his golden girl is covered is using her new training suit to sweep the floor,” Lucas threatened. He blew his blonde hair out of his face and continued to glare at the door but instantly smirked when he heard something crash onto the floor.“Ouch! Fuck!” Tamsyn’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door. And then the door was almost ripped off its hinges and the Orisha spawn glared at her best friend of almost 20 years. “What the hell, Luke? Why are you standing at my door at … oh,” she mumbled and ran her hand across her face. Lucas chuckled at the brunette’s realization. Thankfully he decided come wake u
Razeen’s eyes widened as he took in his new surroundings. The white that had been cast before his eyes before was replaced with a murky atmosphere laced with red. The terrain was rocky and covered in magma, save the circular stone that the future chief stood on at the centre of the fiery expanse. The red sky overhead started to rumble as the underfoot and a figure emerged from the molten rock and magma.“Razeen, I have waited forever to finally meet you, my boy,” the molten figure said in a voice that sounded fitting to a being made from the Earth’s core.Razeen was not usually one to talk to unnamed deities, but he was also taught by his grandmother to respect the spiritual world and all who dwell there, the Orishas especially. Based on the fact that they were currently surrounded by volcanoes and there was a literal magma figure standing in front of him, he was most definitely talking to Aganjú, the Orisha of volcanoes, the
Razeen fiddled with the lapels of his suit and took a few deep breaths. The scent of the erica blossom soothed him for some unknown reason. He was thankful that his cousin was here with him. Since Tamsyn arrived, things felt different in a way that Razeen could not articulate. It was like there had always been a hole in his life that she had filled since she arrived at his life.When he first heard about his mysterious cousin from the north, he was not sure how to receive her or how to feel about her in general. She was the daughter of his aunt and uncle that died in an unfortunate fire when they were little. It was a tragedy, and it broke his heart that she probably barely remembered her own parents. In a way, he could relate. His father told him that his own mother died shortly after he was born in the same fire. He and Tamsyn had both lost a parent in the fire. Only she had lost both. Yet, they were still kindred spirits through their shared grief. There was just one
That was the prologue. The real story starts now. We are going to follow the journey of these two women who are from opposite sides of the world. We are entering the untamed planes of Africa. An unconquered land with more secrets and treasures than anyone could ever dare to hope for. Throw in a few supernatural creatures, lame banter between friends and more than a few scenes dedicated to u-haul lesbian drama. This story is dedicated to Laro, my best friend and partner in crime. Thank you for calling me out on my bullshit and reminding me that all my goals are just a few dozen steps out of reach.
I allowed the sweetness of the moments of the day to bring a blush to my cheeks as I strolled home. I found my way to my new spot on the plastic crate in the yard. It was right beside Razeen's makeshift garage; putting me in prime wrench passing range of my grease painted baby brother. I watched Razeen fiddle under the hood of the car in a haste. He had been working at it for nearly half an hour, but it didn’t seem like he’d done anything. His movements were random and unfocused as he painted the air between the hood and the engine with his wrench. "Nervous?" I asked my little brother suddenly. He nearly jumped out of his skin and knocked his forehead on the bonnet. Shit, it's just like me to injure my brother before his wedding. "Sorry," I called out, running inside to fetch a bag of frozen mixed veg. He cringed slightly when I placed the iced bag to his forehead. I muffled my chuckle at his low pain tolerance. "I don't think it's going to leave a bu
I woke up with a smile spread to the far corners of my face. I virtually levitated out of bed and through my morning routine without a hitch or bad thought. When I entered the kitchen, I was vibrating and soothed all at once. My gran was the first to notice my chirpy mood. She happily invited me to join in with breakfast preparations. Pork sausages, baked beans, polla eggs and freshly brewed coffee. I felt like I was in culinary heaven. My brother walked into the kitchen in his boxers and sloffies, bare-chested. It was weird to see the baby hairs decorating his chest as it would a man's. It was difficult for me to recognise the baby I had left as the man standing in front of me, scratching his dishevelled cork-screw hair. "Put on clothes! There is a girl in the house. Cousin or not, she doesn't need to see so much of you!!" My grandma shrieked. The word 'cousin' stung my ear a bit, but my good mood served as a shield. I laughed under my breath as Razeen's eyes grew t
The morning faded into a day spent observing familial love. My brother was listening to our uncle drone on about the duties of the man in the household. I made sure to roll my eyes loud enough, hoping that my baby brother would hear. I found my thoughts slipping back to the brown-haired girl. How did she know about my kind? As far as anyone knew the last Orisha was killed before she was born. Me. How is it that she knew the exact concoction that would calm my volcanic temper? The compulsion to see her grew with each passing moment. It woke me up well before dawn and had me on the fast track to her metal house. As I speed-walked towards her house, I realised that I was racing towards a phantom. I knew barely anything about her, not even her name. I found her outside in her garden. She was pruning what looked like an Erica plant near her porch. I smiled without realising it. It was my mother's favourite flower when I was a girl. I remember her placing the tiny bl
I took the dreaded last steps up the path to my grandma's rickety house. I knew that I’d have a lot to answer for once I got inside. I didn't want to deal with that. I just wanted to talk to my brother and get to know the man that he had become. He needed to know why I left and that I didn't choose it. He needed to know that he was loved. I smelled my grandma's Tomatie Bredie as soon as I stepped into the house. That smell was a highlight of many of my home-sick dreams. She sent me the recipe one year. Lucas and I tried to cook it a few times. It turned out pretty tasty after the fourth or twentieth time, but it never smelt quite like my grandma's food. She poured the soul of her people into every pot she made us. I could always smell the love before she even dished me a plate. I had missed her food. I wondered if it tasted as good as it did in my dreams. "You better get in here before I come out there and drag you in by your teeth!" my ma's voice came rumbling out o
It was nearing dusk when we drove into the village. At every house we passed, the villagers took a moment to stare us down. I tried to smile at them, but after the third sour expression I received, I shifted back to looking forward. I wondered if they recognised me. Perhaps it was because my hair was tidier that they turned up their noses. My childhood hair had the roar of a mane, but I had tamed it since. That must be it. My hair was too tame for them to recognise me. I could feel the blood pump at the back of my skull as we pulled up to the cream-coloured house. It was still crooked like it was unevenly balanced on its foundations. Time saw the bite-sized house of my girlhood memories mature into an elephant with a full breast of windows and extravagant wooden window panes. It was a house fit for a king, in this case, a Chief. "You've got one week! One week then I'm picking you up," Lucas said in a serious voice, as he looked up at the formidable house. I ran my ha...
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