The movie.
The wolf.
The argument.
The trigger…
The awakening.
They all came rushing back—vivid and vehement—as if they were memories from the previous day.
Edward's memories were back.
And they were loud.
But suddenly, everything faded into silence and blackness.
"Tyamavuka!" Edward suddenly heard a familiarly imposing voice command.
His vision clarified into a familiar scenery—the mysterious and eerie dream.
The colossus stood guarded on the other side of the fire, staff poised and eyes on watch, glaring menacingly up ahead as they seared blue.
Edward tried to turn, desperately wanting to see what the man was up against, but just like last time, he found himself unable to move—unable to even steal a glance at the intimidating presence that had the colossus so riled up.
"Dang it!" he cursed.
But just as he looked up, he saw the man—his eyes now back to normal—looking directly toward him.
Strange.
He had never done that before. Ever.
"Tuweku?" the man suddenly called out.
He was still looking toward Edward.
Edward could have turned to check if there was someone behind him, but since he couldn't, he just stayed put and stared at the man in mesmerized intrigue—admiring the styling he had done with the skin he wore. He assumed there must have been someone behind him who coincidentally shared the same name.
A hundred plus one on the style, man, he thought to himself, nodding in approval and completely waving the man's call aside.
"Tuweku Aura?" the man suddenly called out again, stepping closer.
Edward froze.
Uh-uh. No way.
That was his name—his African name. The man had to be calling him.
"Tuweku Aura?!" the man called once more, this time with certainty in his voice and hope in his eyes. They were spectacular zinc-grey eyes, sparkling fiercely in the fire's reflection.
Edward leaned his head forward—he could do that.
But suddenly, things began to glitch, and the entire scenery contorted into a disfigured image.
The next clear thing he saw was the man standing in the blazing fire—weak and feeble, eyes drained of strength, legs wobbling helplessly.
Edward looked closer and noticed blood streaming from his eyes and ears. He frowned, both terrified and confused. The man didn't even seem to be burning. What was happening?
"Tuweku Aura!" the man called out again—his voice deeper now, hollow, distant, alarmed.
Lo and behold, the man began glitching between his battered state and one of strength and happiness.
Could things get any more morbid and weird? Edward thought.
"Tuweku, GOOOO!" the man suddenly roared.
A blast of wind smashed into Edward—ancient and forgotten.
Edward fell back, and as he did, he could have sworn he saw something anciently nefarious lunge at him from behind.
"Hhhhhhhh!" he gasped, jerking awake into an upright posture.
His eyes felt like they were popping out of his head, his breathing rugged like that of Eliud Kipchoge after finishing a record-breaking marathon. Sweat beaded all over him.
He was back.
And he remembered everything.
"It's okay, Edward," a soft voice said from his left.
He turned and saw Anita seated on a stool beside the bed, gently caressing his hand, which she held tightly. She looked on the verge of tears, though Edward couldn't tell whether they were happy or sorrowful ones. All he knew was that he resonated deeply with the worried concern in her eyes.
He turned to his right and saw Mdachi seated a few inches from the edge of the bed. He held Edward's other hand, his eyes shimmering with pain and remorse. Edward knew he blamed himself for what had happened—but then he noticed Mdachi's left lens was cracked.
He tried to raise his hand, but Mdachi stopped him.
"It's okay," he said smoothly. "Just a little mishap. I'll get a new one."
"Are you guys okay?" Edward asked, looking between them.
"We are fine, baby boy," Anita answered, pressing his hand to her cheek.
Edward smiled at that.
He noticed they were in a guest room.
"But you, on the other hand…" Mdachi trailed off, giving him a worried look.
Edward finally checked himself and realized he was shirtless. To his further surprise, wooden totems with rune carvings were embedded across his chest and arms in a patterned layout, held in place by a greenish herbal paste that glued them to his skin.
"What is this?" Edward asked angrily, scraping the things off himself. He knew it had to be his mother—it wasn't the first time he had encountered the paste.
Anita tried to stop him, but Miridald spoke before she could.
"It's okay, Anita," she said, stepping forward from the corner where she stood with Renee. "They've already done their work."
She stopped behind Anita.
Edward yanked Anita onto the bed, glaring daggers at his mother while struggling to keep his composure. His heart thumped violently beneath his sternum.
He would have spoken, but he knew the words would come out noxious.
So he stayed quiet.
Or tried to.
"I guess you're my mother, huh?" he spat, cold and flat—almost disappointed by the fact.
The words cut through Miridald's heart like a sharpened knife, plunging in slowly and agonizingly.
Bloody.
She steadied herself before dizziness could knock her down. Tears welled in her eyes.
Edward seemed indifferent.
Anita and Mdachi were startled.
Renee stepped forward. "That's no way to talk to your mother, boy!"
"And you!" Edward snapped before she could come any closer. "You knew this…" His voice shook, his eyes tearing up. "Didn't you?" The words came out miserably fragile.
Renee felt the pain in his voice and softened. Guilt weighed heavily on her.
Edward wasn't finished.
"Are you a witch too?"
Renee remained silent, her breathing heavy and trembling.
Edward scoffed, then began laughing. The pain was visible in it. "Of course. Why am I even—"
"Ahhhh!" he shouted, clutching his head and squeezing his eyes shut.
He was in pain—head-throbbing pain.
Everyone reacted at once.
Renee and Miridald rushed toward him.
Then the pain stopped.
"Get away from me!" Edward shouted, scrambling away from Miridald and Renee.
Ding! Dong!
The doorbell rang from downstairs.
Everyone froze.
Ding! Dong! Ding! Dong! Ding! Dong!
It rang again—more aggressive this time.
Miridald and Renee exchanged looks. They both had an idea of who it might be.
"I'll go get it," Renee said, excusing herself.
Edward turned to his mom. "What did you do to me?" he retorted sharply. His eyes weren't pleasant to look at.
"I didn't… I just… You—"
"Uh-huh. You?" He was impatient and snappy.
"You know what?" he said, shifting his feet to the side of the bed. "I don't even know why we're still here." With his hands behind him, he inched to the edge.
He halted at the sight of markings beneath his feet. A ritualistic circle covered the floor—symbols similar to those he had encountered during his short period of witchcraft practice. It was huge, encasing the bed like a protective barrier. He bet that was exactly what it was—a protection barrier.
Hopping onto his feet, Edward looked around. "Where's my T-shirt?" he asked impatiently.
"It's in your room," Mdachi responded.
"Okay. Thanks. Now let's get it and get out of here." He started toward the door.
Anita and Mdachi followed.
Miridald tried to stop him. "But, son—"
"Don't you dare," Edward rebuked, pulling his arm away. "Don't you dare touch me." Suddenly, he felt like crying. "I trusted you, mom…" he sniffled. The bottled-up emotions were threatening to spill. "I fucking trusted you." He sniffled again, and the bottle broke. "God, if I were even told to put life into your hands, I could have done that in a heartbeat! But now…" he raised his shoulders, "I don't even know who you're supposed to be. I don't even know what to think of you."
He closed his eyes and let the tears spill.
"Why did you do it, mom?! Why did you put me through so much pain and torment?!"
Jenevive, who had been rushing inside, halted at the door. Renee stopped behind her, their frustrated looks softening.
Miridald was crying too.
"Did you enjoy it, mom?" Edward carried on. "Did you enjoy seeing me suffer?!"
Miridald shook her head vigorously. "No," she barely murmured through a sob. "I could never."
"Then why, mom?" Edward's voice came out soft and heavy. "...Why?"
Everyone else felt like crying.
Edward let all the pain in. "Ahhhhh!" he shrieked, collapsing to the floor. His voice shook, the pain raw and undiluted.
He broke down completely, the excruciation bleeding through every tremor.
"Why, mom?..."
Anita and Mdachi dropped beside him and acoled him, crying alongside him.
Everyone was now crying.
Miridald wanted to embrace him so badly but saw it was best not to. She instead clamped a hand over her mouth and let the sobbing wreck her.
Renee, feeling too overwhelmed, leaned back against a wall outside the room and wept bitterly, sliding down as she did.
Jenevive stepped forth. She struggled to speak. "I think I'll take them now," she said, trying hard to remain strong. She flung the file she had been carrying onto the bed, then gave Miridald a brief, fierce glance. "It's best if we're not here."
Miridald couldn't retort. She could only cry helplessly.
----------
Getting into the car, Jenevive took one last look at Miridald and Renee from the balcony before shutting the door and starting the engine.
She hadn't really known what had happened—how Edward had gotten to his house, or what happened afterward. All she knew, and could do with, was that Anita was safe; so was Mdachi, and Edward. That was good enough for her. Good enough for now.
Turning into the driving lane, Edward watched his mom and aunt from the passenger-seat window. He looked sad and wan, seeming like a depressed zombie from a horror show.
Anita and Mdachi sat quietly in the back. They weren't thrilled either.
Jenevive turned into another lane, but even if she had said she was okay with not knowing what had occurred, she still felt the itch to understand. Maybe if she did, she could comfort them and ease them a bit.
She tried to speak but closed her mouth as soon as it opened.
"Stop here," Edward suddenly said, immediately after passing through the gate.
Jenevive stopped. But she wasn't about to let him wander around in his current emotional state. "Edward," she tried to convince.
"Please," Edward spoke before she could continue. "Please." He begged with his eyes. "...I just need some time alone to clear my head."
A car behind them honked impatiently. They noticed it.
Edward opened the door, stepping out briskly. "Don't worry, I won't do anything stupid. I'll be back at your place in an hour. Just give me an hour, okay?"
Anita pleaded with her mom with her eyes not to let him go.
Jenevive felt flustered.
The car behind honked again, louder this time.
Jenevive felt pressured.
"You promise?" she asked Edward.
"I promise," he assured.
Jenevive knew it wasn't the best idea to let him go alone. But what could she do? She knew Edward, and knowing him, she knew he wouldn't take no for an answer. She just had to let him go. He had promised to be back in an hour.
"Please be careful, Edward," Jenevive concluded.
Edward gave her a brief smile and shut the door. But just as he was about to turn and leave, Anita opened hers and stepped out. "I'm going with you," she declared.
Before Edward could respond, she continued: "Edward, you just went through one of the most traumatizing and heartbreaking things a person can go through. And if that wasn't enough, you just had a supernatural overload that put you in grave peril. So no, Edward, I'm not going to leave you alone."
Mdachi hopped out too. "I'm sure as hell not going to leave you alone either."
"Guys..." Edward breathed. "I know you have always been supportive and all, but now is not the time to be that… I need you to underst—"
The rest of what he said was overshadowed by the incessant honking.
Jenevive was starting to get really agitated by the person. And so was Anita.
"Please," Edward pleaded.
Anita and Mdachi exchanged glances, sighed, and finally turned to him. "Okay."