Deep in the central Ikwubaran mountain forest, far away from people. Far from civilisation. A large part of the forest had been cleared, leaving only one huge tree. Perched near the very top of the tree was a beautifully crafted wooden tree house. The tree house was two-storied, with glass windows and built from the same type of wood that had surrounded it.

  Standing in a large patch of the grassy area that surrounded the building, a small man held an assortment of kpinga, strange throwing knives with different shaped blades protruding from the shaft/hilt. Three in each hand.

  Nothing about the man stood out, quite the opposite. Five feet three inches tall, nearly bald, skin colour between caramel and chocolate. His body build was hardly the stuff of legends. He had a slim, wiry build, yet he had a paunchy belly that seemed like he always ate a little too much.

  His facial features were in between masculine and baby-faced. He had medium-sized brown eyes that were deep set, his nose was short but not very wide and his cheekbones weren't prominent. While many Ikwubarans usually possessed large mouths, teeth, jaws and prognathism, he didn't possess any of those traits except for being quite prognathic. All his facial features were placed upon a rounded square face.

  Both Nilotic and Bambuti blood ran through the man's veins and both were visible in his face and body plan. Long arms like a Nilote but with shorter legs, a longer torso and tufts of hair on his chest, courtesy of his Mbuti ancestry.

  For a few minutes, the man just stood with his eyes closed, breathing slowly, inhaling through his nostrils, exhaling through his mouth. Only focused on himself and shut out his surroundings.

  He opened his eyes, revealing the focus of a leopard and much like the big cat, he sprang into action. His prey, six wooden target boards, nothing living. He threw two kpinga, one from each hand at his targets. The knives whizzed through the air then hit their target with a wood-chopping sound. Four left. The man leapt high in the air with the power and grace of an elite gymnast then threw two more daggers while in the air. As he landed from his awesome display of acrobatic skill, he forward rolled then sprung back into a standing position then let loose the last two kpinga at the remaining targets.

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  He took a deep breath and wiped the little bit of sweat from his forehead. Every kpinga that the warrior threw had hit and stuck into the board. However, did they hit the mark?

  Mikumbi took in a deep breath through his nose, chanting strange whisperings in an unknown language then began to focus. This time, something different began to happen. Something exciting. Powerful. Magical. He started to draw in energy, both natural and supernatural. He could feel every part of his being getting charged. Embracing him like a warm hug from a big-bosomed goddess.

  His hands started to shine with bright neon green energy. His eyes flashed with the same coloured energy. Time for some magic.

  “Imprint and return to me,” Mikumbi commanded.

  The knives flashed with Mikumbi's energy, wiggled themselves free from the targets then darted back to the wizard's hands, leaving behind a bright yellowy-green imprint. He inspected the mystical imprints with the eyes of a master warrior. Three bullseyes, two placed on the inner circles and one placed on the near outer rim.

  He shook his head in disappointment. Such a feat of skill and agility would've been applauded by most men. Mikumbi wasn't most men. He's 'the' man. The man you call to protect and defend the continent of Ikwubara from supernatural threats like demons, monsters, rogue sorcerers, deities, demi-deities and other things that could wreck a human.

  “Khonvoum,” he uttered to himself, using the creator god of the Mbuti Pygmies in vain. “I thought I nailed it this time... Oh well, maybe next time.”

  The wizard's eyes flashed yellowy-green once again.

  “Return,” boomed the wizard. He tossed his knives in the air then with a bright yellowy-green flash, they disappeared, back to their storage place.

  With his throwing knife training over, he returned to his tree house.