I-II: Life and Death


Antó's Lab and Workshop, Mt. Nimba, West Africa

858 Anno Domini

It was yet another hot day, few mosquitos were out and about this time, a new set of faces, yet familiar were standing in the village. The pair were surrounded by a menagerie of things not quite rivalling the priestess' healing hut. Every device ranging from pottery wheels to strange but precise implements and drawings hanging from the walls, to jars and pots filled with water and oil, to curious wooden figures that looked like animals but seemed… off.

A small bucket was sitting right in front of the two children. Kobbi felt threatened about his height, she was only four years younger than him and her eyes met his, at level height, which he did not appreciate as a young ten-year-old boy.

"Ta-daa!" Antó said, saying those made up words again. Kobbi shook his head, before he examined a square white object that was held in her hands. Is that spit? Did she yank it out from the mouth of a jungle hog?

"It's soap, see! Smell!" he recoiled, expecting the smell of fresh saliva, but instead…

"It smells… of flowers?"

"Yeah, I crushed some of the flowers the boys gave me!" Kobbi let out an exasperated breath, slapping his hand on his face.

"Huh, what's wrong?" she tilted her head.

"Nevermind, why did you make that… soo-au-oup anyway?" he said, peering suspiciously at his younger cousin.

"To get rid of ger- um! So we can… uh, smell good?" she said with an unsure smile, teeth shining white.

Kobbi looked helplessly at her.


"Uncle, do you know what furnaces are?" the rest of the Guere clan were having a freshly cooked and luxurious feast of a single piece of mutton, with most of the dishes being some small vegetables and sweetfruit. Uncle Yoofi raised an eyebrow at his foster daughter as he bit into what looked like a smooth orange lemon.

"What is that? An animal?"

"What, no. They are those… things, with a fire inside of them? A stone… campfire?" her eyes winced like she was frustrated with something. As if there were no other words to describe it.

"Ah! You mean our bloomeries. Why? Are you interested in them?" Yoofi questioned, ironically more interested in what she is about to say.

"Well, I found these." Yoofi turned his eyes at her little invention that was hanging around her waist, she called it a "fannipak". It was simply adorable for her to do that. What she got out from the fannipak though was what raised some eyebrows and some widened eyes on the table. It was glinting, it was gray, it was unmistakably…

"Iron." he said in disbelief.

"I found them in the mountains, we can make them into weapons!" she excitedly handed a fistful of iron to her uncle, somewhat amazed at the purity and shininess of it.

"We have iron sitting under us the entire time uncle!" she then proceeded to pull from her back a large bag out of nowhere and ungraciously spill all the contents of into the table. Ami looked horrified.

"Antó! Not on the table!" her birth-mother scolded her, and pulled her ear, earning a yelp from the white-haired girl. The uncle stood from his black stool, in near disbelief.

"This… is brilliant, dear niece!" he gathered all the iron pieces as if they were… well, like currency. He inspected them too, imagining how fine a blade they could become, how sharp and efficient it will be to slice. A devious and dastardly plan was already forming in his head.

"Maybe we should pay the Nouni… a little visit." He wasn't the only one with an evil grin on his table. The family business must go on, after all…


Outer Village, Mt. Nimba, West Africa

858 Anno Domini, A Moon later…

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

"Ughh…." a tribesman opened his groggy eyes, to the sounds outside. He rubbed his head to free it from aching gremlins. It wasn't going away.

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

"Damn that racket." resolute, he stood up from his hammock and shoved the curtain door away, and was presented with the scent of burning wood and smoke. There he saw the commotion.

It was that new area that was built, when the girl-lamb-chief cried about iron under their mountain home. Soon, there was a mine or two somewhere, he didn't pay attention. The weapon forgers have gone out of their minds since, new furnaces, bigger than the ones near the coasts have been erected near them, the cliffside was alive with noise after their completion. These past few suns have always been that annoying clinging and clanging!

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

The raider, already a man grown, crossed his arms in vexation. He supposed those new iron tools would aid them, but still… did it have to be so close to their homes?

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

He harrumphed, before turning back to his home. A moment later, appearing back out again with a bow and arrow. Maybe some wild game could lighten his thoroughly ruined morning.


The Peaks, Mt. Nimba, West Africa

858 Anno Domini, Two Moons later…

"Are you sure this will work?" the boy said nervously, his eyes cautious for the clouds above. The sky didn't seem that angry, yet. But Nyame was sometimes an oddly cruel prankster, he once saw a herd of their sheep become lifeless dolls from the flash while out learning with his hunter-teachers. He really did not want such a fate to befall him.

Looking pleadingly at the older girl, he pulled his best puppy-dog eyes yet. It worked with his mother and his sisters, maybe it will work on her too?

"Have faith will you?" his older cousin said, patting his head playfully as she readjusted her hands to peer closely at the stick with iron wrapped around it.

"It'll be fine! It'll be on a ten foot wooden pole, I've calculated it correctly!" he wanted to be assured by her words and calculations.

It was about to start…

"So this is a magnet?" the boy, Anené, his anxiety evident, muttered as he gazed at the metal rod, which was now smoking at the end of the pole… or what remained of it, for that matter.

"Why did you pee on me?" Antó looked at him deadpan, untying the magnet stick with her (mostly) dry hands.

"It was an accident! The lightning did it! A-And it was your own fault you brought me here, elder niece!" he cried out, angered and ashamed. He grabbed her with his undried hands, causing Antó to turn a little green in the face.

"Please don't tell anyone! It is most embarrassing!" he pleaded, his loincloth still dripping yellow.

"…"

"… You do know the hunters can tell the difference between human pee and animal pee right?"

"NOOOOOOOOO-"


Village Walls, Mt. Nimba, West Africa

858 Anno Domini, A walk down the mountian later…

"Yup! It even points north! I put this little canoe under it and… see! It moved and stayed in place!" freshly washed, the young chieftess-to-be presented her friends and skeptics alike of the discovery. It was a large clay basin, with piles of toy canoes at the side, within that body of water was a compass! The undeniable proof that there is a great force in the world that controls where birds migrate, and in turn can revolutionize travel inbetween the harsh jungles of Guniea, for the north will always point true, where it lay.

"I don't believe you! You're a fake!" a girl accused.

"That was quick." Antó murmured, her eyes looking behind herself.

"But it worked!" The youngest Guere took out two smaller magnets.

"It sticks!" the two pieces of metal were stuck together in his one hand, also freshly scented.

"You! You have always been running off with her! Do I need to tell your mother about you wandering off!?" she pointed at him accusingly.

"No please! Anything but that!" the boy cried out.

She only raised an eyebrow, not noticing one of the girls was smirking.

"You know Ama, you have been pretty harsh on Anené as of recently. Moreso ever since he was travelling with Lamby." the smirking girl said in a nasally voice called out to her.

"What are you saying?" Ama said, her eyes filled with suspicion.

"Could it be… that you're jealous?"

"OOOOOOHHHHH…!" both girls and boys voiced as one, a few jeering and whispering their theories on the relationship dynamics between the three kids in their minds. Except Antó, who was muttering in that strange language again, something about "greids-skul olouvir ahgenn" or whatever babble that comes out of her mouth.

Meanwhile, Ama, and poor Anené were both doing their best impression of a red sweet berry. Finally, with the boy leaving the blushing dark-haired girl, and hiding behind the muttering white-haired girl.

"I'm not! I…! I…!" she tried to say more.

But with equal feelings of rage, embarrassment, and hurt, she let out a low growl at them, before grunting and throwing her hands up and leaving behind the mocking laughter of children. Not hearing the choking sobs that were emanating from her as she left into the back of the village, her retreating form growing smaller.

Antó watched all the while, finished with her muttering. She gave the kids a raised eyebrow, but they seemed too busy in their own little worlds. Letting out a sigh, she turned to the horizon, the sun was beginning to set.

"Nené," she began gently, "I think it's time for you to go back to your mother."

Curiosity lit up the boy's eyes as he asked, "Where are you going?"

"To help someone, feel better."

"Oh."

Nodding her head at him, she followed the trail left behind. Leaving a curious boy behind, and the gathering of children saying their goodbyes.


"What are you doing here?" she didn't quite pout, but let out an annoyed huff as she looked above her. To see the form of the wonder-child hanging upside down from a branch, her red eyes studying her intently, like she didn't know any sort of privacy.

"I came to apologize." she said, offering her upside down hand to her.

"Leave me alone, Guere." she slapped that hand away and stood up, so she could walk back towards the other direction where she wouldn't be bothered. She ignored the rustling of leaves.

"You know they didn't mean it."

"They are not my friends." she grunted.

"Barely anything happens here, drama is devoured hungrily."

"Stay away from me."

"I won't."

"Why can't you leave me alone!?" she shouted at her, but was taken aback by the remorseful look on her face.

"… Nobody deserves to be alone."

"… Shut up. You don't know me, Guere…! You have everything handed to you! Your an heir of the tribe, you get to get first pick at eating meat! You even have a cot!" she hissed, glaring at the girl resentfully, but why was she blurry?

"I… I have nobody! No cot, no home! They would know! They saw me sleeping outside like an animal!" she was close to her now, her ebony face was sculpted by all of the gods, unblemished, unscarred, clean and healthy. What she could give for a life like hers…! Free of misfortune, free of cruel hatred, then she saw her eyes and…

No…

Why is it like hers?

She was a blessed child, wasn't she? Loved by most of the tribe, in spite of her weird hair and her red eyes…

Eyes full of pain, eyes full of regret, years of disappointment after disappointment, eyes that were oppressed, eyes that were helpless.

She felt herself freeze as the older girl closed in, the scent of flowers and sweat, the feeling of her white hair, fluffy and soft, it almost overwhelmed her senses. Then, her lips whispered four haunting words into her ears.

"… I have a secret."


Mani Village, Mt. Nimba, West Africa

The Next Day…

She was dumbfounded as she saw them bowing and saying sorry. Their looks were uneasy, their smiles crooked, but there was regret for their actions that pooled in their eyes, pity as well, but at least it wasn't scorn or fakeness that paraded most of her life so. They were genuine, she looked towards the older girl, resting by the tree, arms crossed.

"Told you, didn't I?" she said with an easy smile, eyes gladful.

For once, she smiled a little as well.


The Bloody Coasts, West Africa

863 Anno Domini

The women and children boarded back on shore, most held back a sob as their tribe lay in ruin. Dead bodies sprawled on the beaches, with sand colored crimson. The Mani had struck again, stronger than they could ever have known.

It was almost fantastical really, the Mani, they were the unwanted. The ones deemed to glory-hound and cruel, even for Krumen, to conform within the lands of the coastal tribes. They were criminals in all but name, but they were weak, bitterly divided and uncooperative with one another. At least twenty years ago, when one Guere Yawo actually united them as a disciplined force, thirsty not for just loot, but for the sake of wanton cruelty.

The Mani's reputation for a violent and failing tribe was transformed overnight, into the terror from the mountains.

They were almost helpless, doomed to be butchered like animals, had it not been the saving graces of The Traders, giving up everything, even their children to resist the advances of that insidious mountain tribe. The gift of iron, struck back with a vengeance, justice has been made, and they once again banished the unwanted into the mountains. The tribes have their own iron weapons now, not as good as the people from the northward seas. But they could hold their own.

Only occasionally deflecting their pathetic raiding attempts, with the gift of iron. Once more, they were prosperous, free to raid and reave to coasts without fear. Now they can abduct and sell the other tribespeople for their newfound strength, but not the children.

That was something they agreed on.

But then, they came back… with weapons of iron.

How?

It seems they have stolen their tricks from them, now they pay the price for their negligence. The terror has returned, and with it, they left blood and loss.

They… they must fight back.


Chief's House, Mt. Nimba, West Africa

864 Anno Domini

The slave-captive bowed her head towards the fabled adolescent white-haired Daughter of Man. The captive was much older than the girl, a young woman to be exact.

"Sixteen huh? Yikes!" the captive woman couldn't understand a word on what she was saying, but she couldn't help but feel a little insulted.

"Um, how are you feeling?" oh, now she speaks proper Krusu.

"I feel… content mistress."

"Uh…huh…" the girl tilted her head, scrutinizing her, she could smell flowers and something… refreshing on her new mistress.

"Wow, um… you are actually… uh… and I own a… mmm…" more nonsense words, but she could see that she was a little troubled. She supposed, in a strange way, she ought to be grateful that her owner seemed rather feeble-minded.

"You know, I never met people down the coasts. What is it like?" Antó, if she remembered her name correctly, asked.


"Huh… so we were the baddies?"

"If you meant barbaric, despoiling, bloodthirsty, mountain savages, then yes. You are the baddice." Efia responded pointedly, her arms tightly crossed.

"Hmm… our story's different, Auntie Así said that you sent young boys to the mountains for misbehaving, then you just… kinda forgot about them, and they lived here ever since, ignorant of the world below." Antó explained, absently readjusting her white hair.

Efia raised an eyebrow, slightly curious about the origins of the mountain men.

"Then Yawo, my birth-father was out hunting when they found mother and auntie and the rest of our tribesmen. Uncle and father, defended them from another rival tribe and well, since then. They've acted as teachers of the boy colony and… I guess that's where the troubles began, huh?" Antó sat back, nodding her head with the knowledge learned. Efia on the other hand was fully wide-eyed now, the line between enemy and victim becoming blurry.

Soon they sat there, their worlds changed by the perspectives they gave to one another.

"…"

"…"

"You know that I'll be chieftess when I'm a woman grown yes?"

"… yes."

"…"

"…"

"Do you think… peace would be possible between the two of us?"

"…"


Edge of The Jungle of Rage, West Africa

866 Anno Domini, The Final Moon of The Year

There they were… celebrating.

CELEBRATING!

Those damn child murderers will get what's coming to them soon. Monsters, monsters the lot of them!

His heart seethed in fury as she looked down upon them from the trees, as the barbarians revelled in their ill-gotten glory. He clenched his fist white at the sight.

But Chief Asomadu Berko was a patient man, he will smite these devils once and for all! Gritting his teeth, he signalled his men to prepare themselves and slip quietly into the shadows. He watched them slip into the bushes, uncaring for the mud and muck, they will have their justice, in one single strike, they shall take from them what they took from theirs, a cruel grin plastered on his face.

This righteous strike that would take from the enemy what they had stolen from their own, and finally, bring an end to this cycle of bloodshed.

He soon joined his kin in the shadow.


Feast Hall, Mt. Nimba, West Africa

He clapped with the others, at his niece's next innovation presented in the hall. It was a device used for telling time, it was large, about as tall as a man and made of wood, but inside were metal parts that worked in sync by that swinging object, called a pendeloom. He can't help but think that she was being a mischievous prankster with her words and sayings. Next time, maybe, he'll tell her to stop such childish fancies.

She was about to become a woman grown.

…and somehow it hurt quite a bit, he wanted her to stay young and aloof. It reminded him of the silly laughter and play once dominated his brother's halls. He would do anything to experience it again, for deep within this man grown, was the heart of a child who never grew up, abandoned by the people he once called his birth-paternage.

His brother wasn't actually his real blood-brother. But it felt all the same. The naivety, the jokes they told, the dangers they fought, the selfish will to survive on this desolate hill.

He was his true brother…

"Father…?" he looked up, the concerned faces of his children staring back at him.

"You are crying, dear…" his wife, most beloved, held his hand. Her face, still beautiful but weathered by time, shone in the gentle moonlight. In that moment, he smiled through his tears, and laughed, laughed like there was no tomorrow.

"Father has gone crazy!" a young voice shouted.

He laughed even harder, soon everyone joined in.

"Everyone has gone crazy!"

"No, I am happy! Sad and happy!" he rose from his seat and walked over to his niece, placing his calloused fingers gently on her shoulders. A proud smile adorning his face, before meeting with the rest of the crowd and turning his honoured niece around to be presented.

"Come and listen to me, brothers and sisters!" everyone halted their revelry, as they obediently listened to the hand of the chief.

"The last moon of our year is coming to a close, and… it is time to see the new face of our chieftess, the heart of gold that must be presented at once." everyone gasped, but then began stomping their feet and clapping their hands with merry enthusiasm.

"U-Uncle…! It's today!? But, I-" her words were interrupted, however.

"Nonsense, honoured niece. Thanks to you, our raids have been successful and loot has been flowing like the river. You working with my wife and the other medicinemen, have reduced the death spiral that we were experiencing since your father passed on." he let go of his shoulders and repositioned himself right in front of her, before kneeling down and lowering his head in respect.

But just as he was about to continue, a shrill cry pierced the air, shattering the solemn ceremony of elevation.

They turned heads to the noise.

The scream was soon replaced by a warcry of bloodthirsty proportion, and everyone knew, that this feast was spoiled utterly and completely.


They were surrounded, outnumbered. Their raids were too ambtious, too daring, now the full price of their actions were reeling back into their souls.

"Men of Man! To me!" Guere Yoofi roared, his spear alight with the reflections of the setting moon, a beacon of their last stand. Letting out warcries of their own, the hunters began shooting poisoned arrowtips at the vengeful horde below.

"Ready your shields, men of the spear! Men of the bow, in safe position! Now!" he commanded, his voice a steadying force in the face of imminent peril. As he peered down the slope, he saw the pinpricks of-

"SHIELDS NOW!"

"AGH!"

"DAMN THEM!"

"MANU NO!"

The most of the men did not get their shields up in time, now the disparity was even greater than before. Then the raiders below began marching up-


"Children hurry! The path is hidden here, follow to where I'm pointing." Así pointed under the eight great furnaces, where there were still trees to hide. Their last hope, that they wouldn't notice beady little eyes staring back at them.

"Sister! They have begun fighting! They are getting near!" Ami yelled fearfully.

"Goddess and God preserve us! Hurry children!" she gritted her teeth, urging the youngsters to descend with all the speed they could muster.

"Antó! Help me with hiding them will you?" the shaman ordered.

No replies were heard, only the shuffling of feet and the yelling of women and boys.

"Antó?"


"Oh please, oh please fucking work. For the love of God, Mary, Joseph, and Johnny Fucking Cash, please fucking work!" sweating hard, and cursing, Antó held aloft a curious bag filled with suspicious and smelly powder. She quickly left her lab, a giant mess of broken glass, powdered rocks and strange herbs, and ran towards the partially completed "gatehouse".

"UNCLE MOVE OUT OF THE WAY!" she yelled, placing the bag beneath the foundations.

"ANTÓ! WHAT IN THE DEVIL ARE YOU DOING!?"

"HELPING YOU UNCLE YOOFI!" she began pulling a long string out of the bag.

"YOU WILL DIE! LEAVE THIS PLACE!"

"I HAVE A PLAN!" she procured a mechanical lighter, setting the strong alight.

"WHATEVER YOU ARE PLANNING CHILD! YOU BETTER FINISH IT QUICKLY!" her teeth were now clenching hard as the spark moved nearer towards the bag.

"THE WALLS ARE GOING TO FALL! GET YOUR MEN OUT OF THERE!" she ran as fast as she could, her eyes on the last line of defence, that thankfully followed what she said, enough to-

*BOOM*

The loose mud gave way to boulders and loose rock, now tumbling furiously below. The men who got away in time watched in awe and terror, as the artificial avalanche came barreling down towards their enemy. Their enemy, which now saw what seemed to be lightning flashing by and now a great torrent of stone coming towards them.

"RETREAT-"

There was no time to retreat as the rocks collided with flesh and bone. Some got the full brunt as their skulls caved in, the rocks now have a new home to stay. Others were littered with pebbles piercing their skin, while most were buried and suffocated under the sodden dirt and gravel.

Cheers and bloodthirsty laughter was heard as the men of Man reformed and chased down the last of their enemies down the slope. Antó fell on her backside in exhaustion, as she breathed a sigh of relief.

But just as things were going to get better.

"Let go of me! Unhand me!"

"Secure the rest of the tribe, we shall make hostages and examples of them!" a man shouted, pleased that the distraction went to fruition.

"Fuck!" looks like her job wasn't finished yet.


She looked at them again from above a tree branch, the same facts relayed to her eyes. The boys, the girls, her aunts, and her mother, closely guarded by a flanking group. She slipped her bushy cloak on and tried to sneak behind any and all obstacles in their sight. Grabbing her slingshot she aimed, and…

"Agh!" the youngest of the bunch held his head in pain, blood trickling down behind his head.

"Enemy!" they let loose a notch of arrows towards the tree branch, and something dropped from the tree. It was a bird's nest and the mama bird, pierced right through the heart with all her eggs a broken yellow mush.

She thanked the lord that she had the deceptive trait, and slithered like the serpent that she wasn't and aimed again, this time, much more fatal. Ah, that old geezer could use a little medicine.

*thump*

"Over there! He's shooting at us!"

"Use the hostages!"

A yelp was heard, she recognized Ama, bound and gagged, the man slipped his dagger underneath her neck.

"Listen here-"

A bolt out of nowhere went through his head, spraying grey matter and red matter all over the grounds.

"Damn! Kill one of them-" another bolt went through.

At this moment the slingshot was absent, a bizarre contraption was in her hands instead, a small bow sitting sideways on a wooden device, and they couldn't even see her.

Only eleven left, show time she guesses.

*Stab*

Her knife was bloody, as the man fell over into the ground face first.

Ten left.

She aimed her crossbow and shot another by the side of his head. A woman's shriek was silenced as her neck spilled into the floor.

"Fuck!"

No choice left, she ran towards them, hastily picking up a chair. The two men met the chair and their legs were brutally maimed and they fell wailing, still alive but out of action.

Eight left.

She didn't even have the time to scream as the old one's blade pierced through her neck. Then her eye by another spear, exiting through the back of her head. Then a club to her skull, bringing her entire body down into the mud, a dozen spears were inserted into her back. They were practically brutalizing the body, as the hostages watched in disbelief as their soon-to-be-chieftess was mobbed and killed.

It was over…


?

?

/debugtooltip

/add_trait_leader 0 |


Ama watched with empty eyes, as her friend lay dead. No one was crying, for it was so sudden and spontaneous, then, she began to think.

What was she going to accomplish? Did she stop thinking? What on earth possessed her to charge thirteen men? The cycle of grief left her and returned, then left again. Erratic, her psyche began to bubble into grief and absurdity.

"Now you know…" the man started to speak, the man who dealt the killing blow.

"The arrogance you showed, has come back to bite you." he said, a smile on his face, he turned to look at a cripple.

"Worry not." the enemy chief closed his eyes.

"Your children shall be spared."

"But, no more child shall be born of the Mani." he opened his eyes again, brimming with hatred and of pity.

"You will not live in these lands anymore, your men will be slain. Your chieftain… he will live. To see all of you depart to lands northward." then he gave a sickly smile.

"And, I will have the pleasure to see his face, experience the pain that I felt when I lost everything…"

"…"

Meanwhile, shaman Así was stone faced, she tried to think of anything to escape this situation. But she knew her time here had been lost. How poetic really, that in her quest for vengeance, she was the target of it all in the end.

But once again, Antó surprised her once again, just like the day that she was born.

"Antó…?" her sister whispered, her eyes growing once again with terror and hope.

The enemy turned their heads, as the sounds of steam and the sight of it was arising from their backs. The corpse was smoking, the wounds were smouldering with and sealing themselves. Then one of her hands twitched, then slowly clenched into a fist, then her other hand. Slowly, she was rising again, steam expelling from her mouth and the hole in her head.

One of the raiders didn't sit back and watch. He plunged his spear into her again, certain it would strike true, but it did not.

With her right hand bloody, she gripped the spear.

Then her eyes snapped open, all of them.


She walked out of the village, her form dripping with the blood of mortal men. She looked down, the last of their fighters were dwindling. She saw the unmistakable face of her foster-father, his head atop a spear.

Then she began to sing quietly, as she marched down the mountain.

"Una mattina… mi son svegliato…"

Her eyes were aflame with violet, the rest of the villagers behind her watched.

"O bella ciao, bella ciao, bella ciao, ciao, ciao…"

They heard her song, the wounded, and the living. They all heard her sing a song that wouldn't be sung for mortal ears for at least a thousand years to come.

"Una mattina, mi son svegliato… and I found l'invasor..."

The hidden children inbetween the rocks and trees, watched as their big sister, who taught them how birds fly, how the world moved in chaotic harmony in the heavens, how the world was full of wonder and awe. They watched her walk down the hill, into the thick of the fighting.

All of them held their breath.

"Oh partigiano, oh bring me far… Oh, bella ciao-"

She was getting nearer, the violet in her eye spreading all across her body.

"…bella ciao-"

Her hands were sparkling with violet light.

"-bella ciao, ciao, ciao…"

The spear she held in her right hand, the violet light began to encompass it like a flame.

"Oh partigiano, oh bring me far… "

Her spear began to aim where the concentration of enemies were at their highest, then...

"…for death, is what I feel."

Let loose her psionic inferno.


A/N: BFR is in rewriting hell :D