Cosmic Beginnings The Chaos Chronicals Vol 1

Off the coast of West Africa bound on the east by Cameroon, and on the Northeast by Chad, with the Niger's waters claiming her own route, while Benin bordered to her west and the Atlantic to the south.  Nigeria the third largest country in Africa and one of the richest was haunted by the ghost of colonialism, which left the country splintered.  After the Second World War Britain regarded her new conquest as a costly empire; more trouble then its worth.  British rule spawned corruption to a new height.  A fractured government of political parties fighting for power became the norm.  Plagued by military coupe one after another accompanied by assassinations the country went from a civilian government to military rule.  Authority abused by power obsessed generals threw the country into civil war.  Tribes that had been living together for hundreds of years now drew blood from one another. Devastation was the condition of the city states after the civil war, but slowly order returned to the ravished land.  Blood ceased flowing in the streets, the scars left would take a lifetime to heal, but among the powerful countries and city-states in Nigeria nestled deep in the lavishly lush rain forest resided an unimaginable immeasurable force and power.  This place was considered primitive by western society's standards, but in reality this place and its occupants were far more advanced and intelligent; unmolested by western barbarism Christian missionaries, and the slave trade. For thousands of years, this place remained sacred. Foreign concepts of colonialism is non-existent, unlike the outer lands running ramped with corruption, cursed and diseased spirits brought by invaders occupying and polluting ancestral lands for centuries.  Ancestral spirits angered and enraged for sins committed by descendants who had forsaken their culture for a religion that murdered and dispersed their own people rose up in rebellion from a religion that had robbed the land in the name of Christianity steeped in corruption. In the outer lands there was the exception of a few who struggled to hold on to the ancient ways.  Plagued by the unquenchable thirst for western concepts and a decadent society these outer lands knew no peace.  The beauty that had once veiled the land vanished.  Only the holy place, the sacred place the abode of the powerful ones possessed that indescribable solitude and beauty throughout the village.  It was as if the village resided on another plane of existence compared to the outer lands.  Within the rain forest dwelled the unearthly immaterial un-embodied ones that populated the sacred groves surrounding the village; protecting, guarding, standing watch for over a thousand years.  They were commanded and invoked by the Iyami; permitting no one entry unless it was sanctioned by the Iyami, and even then only those who had gone through the sacred rites of passage who had bled to wear the tribal marks in honor of their ancestors.  There were those that the prophecy spoke of who would return to the place of the beginning.

The rising sun ushered in the morning prayers and rituals. The chanting of prayers could be heard from every ile, bringing in piercing sunlight through the thick foliage.  A hypnotic melody rode the gentle breeze, the morning chants were part of life in this place; the vibrations they carried rendered the entire village to be in tune with the rhythms that governed the universe. The wildlife and the villagers lived in harmony, everyone and everything knew its place within nature's structured world, the elements of wind fire water and earth were honored and respected.

With the completion of Morning Prayer and rituals everyone resumed with their daily routines, many people moved about performing the task required of them with their special ability in mind, to ensure an efficient and effective quality of life within the village structure.

 Priestesses congregated within the groves invoking the Iyami for counsel. Priest prepared for ceremonies for the newly initiated. Secluded on the other side of the village was the ile of the "powerful one" concealed in the thick foliage possessing the characteristics of the chameleon, with an entrance concealing itself to those who were not advanced enough to enter into the sacred place of the powerful one, legends claimed the powerful one’s age was unknowable and that the powerful one was there when the elders were infants.  The entrance was only revealed to the Iyalawos.

Inside the ile the powerful one remained there in an altered state of consciousness. The Iyaagon, the powerful one was said be the owner of the first power, the feminine mysteries.  Robed in a white cloth with the antelope skin draping her shoulder denoted her stealth in entering the many planes of existence. The alabaster dreadlocks that coiled almost to her knees appeared to be alive with consciousness and wisdom from the earth itself as they slightly raised and fell in rhythm with every breath she inhaled and exhaled.  The chair she sat upon carved from a massive elephant skull emphasized her awesome power.  Surrounding the chair were numerous gourds and artifax carved from the trees that grew up into the ile over the years.  Many leopard skins lined the crystallized floor from the intense fire rituals over the years. Hanging from the wall was a variety of dried herbs and roots.  Clay pots occupi