Mikumbi woke up in a cold, sticky sweat, his deep-set brown eyes wide with shock. His heart beat so fast that it felt like it was going to rip open his chest. He sat upon his large bed with his hands rubbing and covering his boyish face.

  “Him again. Why do I keep having these vivid dreams of that guy?” He wondered.

  Ever since Mikumbi awakened to the natural, supernatural and mystical energies of the universe, vivid dreams and semi prophetic dreams were part of the deal. Yet for as long as he could remember, that man would appear in his dreams. He would remember nearly every aspect of them. Sounds. Smells. Sights. The blazing heat of the savannah and hot-steppe sun. The tender kisses of the man's favourite concubine. And finally, the final battle.

  Mikumbi looked out his window. The sky was starting to blaze as the sun began rising over the grand central Ikwubaran montane rainforest.

  “Maybe I can get a couple more hours of sleep.”

  Mikumbi turned over, wrapped his loose sheet around, rested his head on his soft pillow and closed his eyes...Then opened his eyes... Rolled over... Closed his eyes once more... and so on.

  Try as he might, the warrior couldn't fall asleep again. After a while, he gave up and got out of bed.

  Time to start the morning routine. First, stretches, followed by an assortment of callisthenics like squats, push-ups and sit-ups. A hundred of each. After he worked up a good sweat, the sorcerer went to the kitchen to make something for breakfast. Posho - a type of corn/maize meal porridge with some fresh milk. Just like he remembered a very long time ago. His mother would pound the maize and milk their modest amount of cattle, while he would cause mischief with the rest of the children. Happy times, even with the teasing and tough warrior-herder training.

  A childlike smile creased his boyish face as he ate.

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  After his breakfast, he tended to his hygiene regimen. After a quick wash and putting on a neat blue shuka, Mikumbi was ready to start his day. First up, spear and sword training.

  He walked out of the door of his grand tree house and down the staircase that spiralled around the tree trunk onto the clearing. He took in deep breaths of humid montane forest air while in a neutral stance, holding his wizard spear. He sprung into action like a leopard pouncing on its prey. First, he twirled his spear around his head, flourishing his weapon with vicious thrusts. He swung his shaft with power, cutting through the air like a blade. His footwork was as precise and graceful as a trained dancer. It almost seemed that he was in a trance as his eyes and hands began to glow with his signature yellowy-green aura. As he went through his spear routine, Mikumbi started to realise something... None of this routine was his own. The footwork, the thrusts, the parries. None. In all, his very long life, never had he gone through this spear routine... Yet.

  Every part of it was familiar to him. Something deep inside his very being was aiding his movements. A bright white light flashed over the sorcerer.

  You stand in the courtyard surrounded by tall acacias, your own well-armoured guards and sturdy mud brick walls. Your dark skinned naked upper body glistens with sweat as you flourish your sword. A slash here. A thrust there. Parrying imaginary opponents while maintaining good footwork. You finish off the sword flourish with a spinning back slash, a focused shout and a burst of your yellowy-green energy that knocks your soldiers on their arses. You let loose a gruff, hearty laugh as you sheathe your sword.

  “That's enough training for one day,” you boast.

  Mikumbi stood dumbfounded, holding his panga, sweating profusely. What just happened? Another dream? A new vision?

  Something was going on and it all had to do with that familiar man.

  “I guess I'm going to Mount Nianankoulou,” thought Mikumbi.

  He went back inside his tree house to prepare for his trip. Once fully prepared, he took a deep breath through his nose then started to chant in a strange language and focused on gathering energy. His eyes, hands and spear tip shone with his signature yellowy-green aura. Energy coursed through and radiated from him.

  “To Mount Nianankoulou,” boomed the wizard. He slammed the butt of his spear on the ground then disappeared in a bright yellowy-green flash.