Nahual

The Oracle has been clear: “Give the skin.”

The Oracle… the last meeting he had before being cornered by the Sovereigns.

The sovereign Confederation aims to spread beyond its own

and throughout the universe, demanding loyalty and mold among all its tributaries.

And the hunt for dissidents to condemn them.

A dozen palatines set out to hunt for Kante, the one with the sweet gaze.

Kante.

Spirit and shaman of ancestral rites.

Run now between willows and mahogany,

appalled by the ugliness of the human heart,

pursued by the imperial retinue, with the Baron at the head.

Ambition is ambivalent.

Plants also suffer from it when growing in the jungle,

although they end up understanding each other naturally.

Plants flow. Man is highly impressionable and influential.

What is the purpose of life?

The plasma halberd sparks in the Baron's hands,

hungry and thirsty for justice.

If one day he was oppressed, today he considers himself a leader.

Its goal is supreme symmetry for the well-being of united citizens.

A union that makes men and territory stronger.

The Baron is fast.

The Baron is lethal.

He crossed the river alone,

delving deep into the misty rainforest.

He wants to be the first, he wants to be the only one.

The prize is succulent.

The Baron, born as Reto and with the cord around his neck, has taken more lives on his way than there will be clouds today.

He activates his 'podocalculator'. The prey is nearby.

“We are the good guys,”

He convinces himself, just like we all do.

A storm is also threatening.

You have to be skilled or the terminals will soon become useless.

Suddenly, a pair of macaws fly out from behind the wide trunk of a tree. “I bet you’re there…”

Reto sneaks up to the revealed location,

surrounding the immense ceiba tree with the halberd held high.

"Indeed."

Sitting at the foot of the tree, Kante is in mid-sentence.

He has a bare torso, painted with green clay and wearing a feathered amulet.

He's waiting for a death with an electrode scythe.

“Aha!”

The Baron boasts, placing the edge of his weapon at the height of his temple.

of the condemned.

“Prepare to die Nahual, nor the conversion into your animal

will be able to save you today…”

“My animal…” Kante murmurs. “My nahual… is the human being.”

At that moment his prayer turns into metamorphosis.

As both bodies transmute,

The electrifying blade falls on Kante's face.

The antler hits and bites.

A man collapses on the moss.

Under the ceiba tree lies the victim unconscious,

at the same time as executioner,

with a new face to welcome when he wakes up.

Standing with bare hands and honey-colored eyes,

The figure of the Baron whispers to the inert man:

“Peace in your hearts, light on your path.”

Then he continues on his way. There is a lot of jungle to explore.

Just then, it starts to rain.

📷 from Creative Commons CC

📝 by Cesar Rampe