As is the tradition Andiswa, the bridesmaid, walks from the hut before me. The aroma of the meat from the firepit crashes into me like a wave as I step out of my hut, forcing me to forget about the warmth of the earth beneath my feet. The people of the village are packed in the centre of the village. Their eyes trail my every move as I walk towards the altar of bones. My face is veiled, and my shoulders heavy with the blanket my mother wore on the day of her wedding. Tau chose the tradition of my tribe; a small act of respect is better than nothing at all. Yet, I cannot forgive what he has done. His soul is tainted by the blood of my father.

The diviner of our tribe, Andiswa’s mother, stands before altar. Before us. Tau stands at my side. The lion skin that covers his shoulders is stretched over his muscles, he holds the traditional spear and shield in his right hand. He towers over even the tallest soldier in the village. His amber eyes are locked on me. Eyes that will not see the sunrise come morning. The diviner lifts her arms and the people fall silent. The beating of the drums dies out as quickly as it started.

Silence. The entire village is quiet save for the rustling of the trees.

“Igazi (fire),” Andiswa’s mother says, her head decorated with the beads sewn together by the younger girls of the village. The bone and bead embroidery on her white attire matches that of her daughter. Her fingers do not tremble as she raises a blade in her hand and with the skill of a carver, she slices the palm of her other hand. The blood spills and I do my best not to gasp. Her palm is drenched in blood when she presses it against my forehead. “Umlilo (blood),” she intones. What does blood and fire have to do with a wedding? I wonder.

“Bring the offering,” she barks, her wrinkled hand gestures towards a group of guards, Tau’s soldiers. They lead a cow, a living, breathing animal, to the altar. My insides turn at the thought of what is about to happen, but I stand my ground. “It is our duty,” the diviner says, the hilt of the stone knife clutched between her fingers, “to cleanse our soil which has been tainted. A sacrifice for our ancestors. A sacrifice for our new chief.” The animal’s throat is sliced open and its blood spills at our feet. Its life drains away before us and the diviner chants in a language foreign to my ears.

Her voice is intoxicating, hums and shrieks that send shivers down my spine. Fearful yet in awe of the chants, I grip Tau’s hand and stare at the blankness in his face. His attention is fixated on the diviner. A shadow now stands behind her, smiling. Its eyes burn as bright as fire and its face as white as ash. I stare apprehensively, its face as familiar as my own. “The time has come,” a voice escapes from where its mouth should be.

A voice like nails against cobblestones, shrieking with every word it utters. Its words spread across the village, a dark gloom that has always been welcome in these parts. The dark solemnity is unbecoming for a wedding, but fitting for the hell I find myself in. “The time has come to bind these souls by fire and blood. From now until the end of time. A bond that can only be broken by death itself.”

The words strike me like a fist in the gut. Tau grips my hand as I try to break free. “I will not be part of this,” I growl. I scan my fellow tribesmen’s faces in search of sympathy but find only indifference. This is the way it has always been, from the moment our ancestors walked the earth, but I have always been against it. “Andiswa,” I scream at the top of my lungs. I find her familiar face in the crowd, but she stares at me with eyes that are no longer her own. Everyone seems locked in their own bodies. Blood magic. He used blood magic to curse them all into subservience.

“Tau, do not do this,” I am hoarse from screaming. He remains quiet and allows my words to simmer. His muscles relax and the grip on my hand loosens. Just what I needed. I break loose and disarm the diviner as I shove her out of the way. I swiftly spin around and try to bury the knife in Tau’s chest. He does not flinch as I near him, his expression unperturbed.

As I lunge for his bare chest I feel a cold hand around my throat. The knife slips from my fingers as the breath is strained from my lungs, my head spins as I try gasping for air. I try to break free, but when my hand reaches the grip around my throat, I feel nothing but my neck. “Vaa,” Tau gestures towards the person chocking the life out of me. I fall to the ground and notice the shadow behind me. I wheeze as the air returns to my lungs.

“The blood binding ritual must be done,” he says, and for the first time I notice a softness in him, but my instincts kick in and I go for him once more. One backhanded slap is all it takes to knock me to the ground. I lie and stare at him in disbelief.

“Bind her, and complete the ritual,” he commands his guards, no mercy in his eyes this time.

Two guards move toward me and grab my arms and legs. I feel the rope taut around my wrists and ankles. My head against the ground, the sand feels warm against my skin. Almost comforting. I have lost everything. My father, my tribe and my honour as a princess of the Eland tribe. Perhaps defeat is not such a terrible state to be in when there is nothing left to live for. Revenge, I think. What could be better than avenging the ones you love?

Once again, I am betrayed by reality. A glowing hot branding iron is brought to my shoulder. Its heat scorches my flesh. A scream rips through my throat, the pain is unrelenting. The last thing I see is my father’s face, and then … nothing.

***

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