REQUEST: "So, after Felix's group left Kibombo, what happened to Akafubu?"


After the foreigners left, mother began to say Akafubu was not ready for being Kibombo's witch doctor. I think she's spiteful, since Akafubu is no longer that child that chased her around and put frogs in her hair. But as she lectures me, I dare not give an opinion—she is the one brushing my hair, and I don't want her to tug.

She says Akafubu is not ready, and that there had been more than one person vying for witch doctor, but she had not been allowed—because she was a girl.

I don't like that rule. I want to ask Akafubu myself. So I wiggle away as mother finishes the last of my braids. I will ask this witch doctor myself what are the rules. I want to be Kibombo's next witch doctor.

Everybody knows where Akafubu's hut is. I can hear him, upstairs, arguing with someone.

"What do you mean, Gaobomba? They took your magic?! How am I to be witch doctor?"

I don't hear a reply. I swallow and poke my head around the corner to watch Akafubu flail a few times. What… Is it some sort of dance?

He storms out before I can ask—and I feel the need to follow the man into the Gaobomba statute. Maybe I too, can discover the secrets of being a witch doctor.

Akafubu had been too prideful. He was not prepared for the monsters, nor the puzzles. He hadn't even made it halfway through the Catacombs before he heard a scream.

There had been a child?! And right now, the child was under assault by one of the monsters.

He could run. Nobody would know until Akafubu came out of the ruins, claiming the child to have been taken—

Akafubu backed up. No. He couldn't do that. He stared at the cavern, before yelling, "Is this another trial, too?! Do you test me by forcing me to save this child?!"

He made his way forward, stilling when the screaming stopped.

Akafubu's been different since my child died. She had sunshine in her heart, and earth in her smile. Then again, that was before the witch doctor became convinced he could bring her back from the dead. I want to laugh; my brother should know dead things stay dead.