_ Who knows strength best? The weak who suffer it, or the strong who wield it?
As Jojo's eyes blinked at a most unjust scene, a forgotten memory resurfaced.
The question had caught Jojo and Daniel off guard, who were 11 and 12 years old respectively at the time, sitting right in front of Daniel's house, on a mound of bricks in a corner of the alley. That was the problem with their friend and distant cousin Gaëtan. Sometimes, without warning, this 15 years old boy would utter phrases that seemed far too complicated for their childish brains. And the worst part was that he seemed to be looking for the answer as much as they were, as if he was talking to himself.
After several long minutes watching the rest of their friends play carelessly, far from any philosophical questions that were really not for their age, Daniel replied:
_ The strong.
_ Ha, the strong you say? Gaëtan said with a patient and mischievous smile. Are you sure?
_ No, that's wrong, Jojo interrupted, raising his hand like a student wanting to impress his teacher, it's the weak, I'm sure.
Gaëtan burst out laughing, affectionately stroking Jojo's head.
_ Are you sure, Jo?
_ Is that not it?
_ Of course not, you idiot. The answer is the strong, that's for sure!
_ No, you're the idiot. I'm sure the answer is the weak, right Gaëtan?
Gaëtan didn't answer; he just watched them argue about it, his gaze already lost somewhere on the horizon. After several minutes during which the debate had not progressed beyond
"You are stupid!", "no, you are stupid!", Gaëtan resurfaced into reality.
_ Tell me Daniel, why do you think it is the strong who know what strength is?
_ Well, because he is the strongest, Daniel simply replied. And since he is the strongest, he must know strength better than the weak.
Gaëtan nodded gently.
_ Yeah, that's plausible. And you, Jo, why is your answer the weak?
_ Well, because it is the weak who suffer strength, Jojo explained. I think those who know strength the most are those who fear it.
Gaëtan was stunned for a moment before bursting out laughing.
_ Wow, that was some really mature answers for your ages.
_ But you asked, Daniel complained.
_ Yes, I know, Gaëtan accepted, but still, I'd like to know how you came to such conclusions.
_ Well, it was just logical for me, Daniel simply replied.
_ For me, I…
Jojo's words were lost, and his mind had wandered against his will. He remembered a painful feeling of weakness a year ago, in Yeumbeul; he also remembered a sensation of infernal power but he couldn't say why. The little boy had no memory of that night, or perhaps he simply didn't want to remember. Because that famous night… He had… He…
_ Argh!
_ Jojo, are you okay? Gaëtan worried, seeing Georges suddenly hold his head.
_ Yeah, don't worry, I just… no, it's nothing.
The worry in Daniel and Gaëtan's eyes didn't seem to have lessened, not in the least.
_ We'd better go home, Daniel suggested, maybe it's being outside…
_ No, I'm fine, Jojo cut in, exasperated.
He hadn't left Daniel's house for a year after the events of Yeumbeul. But now that he was starting to get better, he didn't want to remember it, or be treated like a weak person in convalescence.
_ To get back to your question Gaëtan, Jojo resumed, I just said that because it seemed logical to me too.
_ Hmm, okay, I see.
Somewhere in his head, perhaps the paranoid part of his brain, Jojo had the impression that his older friend doubted his answer.
_ And you then, Georges asked, half to divert attention from himself, what's your answer?
Gaëtan blinked before smiling mischievously.
_ For me? Well… What if I told you both?
Jojo blinked, and found himself in the middle of the arranged courtyard.
The general silence that followed put his nerves to the test, and his brain, struggling to grasp all the information, allowed him to register a lot during those few seconds of calm.
He now saw the head table with more discernment than before. Three of the five captains had a shocked expression on their faces, some even had their mouths open. The fifth, on the other hand, looked at Jojo with the calmest interest, his green military ceremonial uniform suggesting that he was the Thiongane captain. Something about him seemed to awaken an ardent fire deep within him, but the young girl next to him captured all his attention.
There was no longer any trace of boredom on her heart-shaped face; she was leaning forward, her eyes enhanced by her curled eyelashes and a thin layer of eyeliner shone with excitement while her mouth split into a wide smile. The thing that cast golden gleams on her casual gray top was an emblem that Jojo didn't really have time to try to decipher because of the sudden torrent of emotion that had, momentarily, taken over his confusion and fear.
He didn't really know why he felt such emotions. It was as if an irresistible force was drawing him towards the young girl, but something sinister all around her stirred a deep sense of aversion in him.
Jojo was lost, scared. He felt a force within him that made him want to flee his own body, and the destructive instincts that his sembou, which he had long sworn never to use again for a reason hidden in the lost corners of his mind, awakened in him, made him nauseous. Yet, it seemed to him that he would have remained standing, contemplating the young girl like an anomaly for an eternity… if he hadn't been punched in the stomach.
Jojo's breath seemed to have momentarily vanished; the force of the impact was such that, for an instant, his feet left the ground and he was thrown backward. The world seemed to turn sickeningly, his vision catching the blue summer sky that seemed to flicker with a thousand sparks, then…
_ What do you mean both?
Daniel's indignant voice reached Jojo's ears, an echo of the memory of his 11 years. The mini-version of him opened from the darkness to repaint the scene.
The sun glorified the sky in its dying reddish and golden reflections, illuminating Gaëtan's face with bloody light as he laughed, raising his hands in a defensive sign.
_ You didn't tell us we could choose two options, the Jojo from almost 3 years ago complained. That's cheating!
_ Exactly!
Gaëtan laughed humorously.
_ Yes, but I never said you couldn't, did I?
The two boys stopped complaining for a moment, thinking about the answer. Seeing that Gaëtan was technically right, they made a slight pout of anger and the young boy couldn't help but hug them as if they were cute little cats.
_ It's okay, he said, his voice trembling not to laugh. I'll explain my point of view, so stop pouting, okay?
Neither Daniel nor Jojo answered, but Gaëtan took that as a way of accepting the deal since their expressions had somewhat returned to normal.
_ Well, let's take someone who was weak and becomes strong. Technically, he has known both, so he necessarily has a better understanding of what strength is since he had suffered it and now wields it.
Jojo and Daniel's expressions lit up with a glimmer of understanding.
_ Ooooooh, they said in unison.
_ You see? Gaëtan said proudly. But, I admit that this answer doesn't really please me…
_ Why? Daniel asked, lost. It seems like a good answer?
_ I don't know… I mean, what prevents the weak who became strong from acting like all other strong people? If he only wields strength, what difference is there between him and the others?
Jojo's brain, at that moment, had overheated to such an extent that he could no longer concentrate. And judging by Daniel's glassy eyes next to him, he wasn't the only one. Gaëtan chuckled.
_ Don't worry, even I don't have the answer. Although…
_ Although what? Daniel and Jojo said together, exasperated by the length of the debate.
Gaëtan's gaze became distant.
_ Perhaps the one who knows strength is someone who can wield it but still fears it. Someone who has the power, but doesn't use it because he knows what it is to have suffered it.
_ Wait, Daniel cut in, what's the point of strength if you're not supposed to use it?
_ That's the thing, Daniel, the important thing is not to be able to but to have to.
Why… do I suddenly remember that?
Jojo's consciousness returned to reality, and the sudden pain in his stomach, coupled with the one that ran through his entire body since his displacement, made him take a deep breath of sand. He had landed violently just 10 centimeters from Abdou's bowed head, his tearful eyes staring at him in amazement.
Dizzy, coughing and spitting sand, he tried to get up as best he could into a sitting position. He looked at the man who had done this to him, trying to catch his breath, the same man who had whipped his friend.
This ndimbelane… the blow he gave me… was charged with sembou.
This simple fact enraged Jojo.
Using his sembou to attack an unknown threat was not so crazy after all, since Jojo had just used sembou even though he was not part of any armed body and had even less been registered. He was therefore indeed a "criminal" on paper but he couldn't help but feel anger, because of the blow he had received, and his friend whose back showed red streaks.
What kind of justice is that?
In the background, he could hear the second lieutenant, recovering from his astonishment.
_ See now the consequences of your absurd actions, people of Keur Massar. These children honor the horrible education they have received here, already daring to defy authorities and even hiding their sembou! This is the mark of future criminals, those who rage and use their powers to spread misfortune in this country. Let their punishments be an example for all here, young and old! Officer, correct this kid!
You really don't need me to spread misfortune, Jojo thought angrily.
And what are you going to do?
A voice different from his own intervened in his head. Jojo had been at his wit's end for several minutes, but this voice, rising from the depths of his soul, immediately repulsed him.
Who…
You complain about injustice, you feel your rage deep in your heart, and yet you keep running away. Again and again, haunted by the ghosts of that night.
_ SHUT UP!
Jojo had screamed at the top of his lungs, cutting off the second lieutenant in the process.
_ Shut up, he grumbled.
You can try to escape it as you can, but the past never truly disappears. Like everything else, it leaves a legacy behind. A legacy of shame for what you believe.
_ Shut up.
External events mingled with his subconscious conversation; in the distance, he could hear the second lieutenant yelling something in a furious tone, and the officer approaching him, a slight sound of ropes indicating the presence of the whip.
That night
No…
The house that held so many memories was being reduced to ashes, those you loved were no longer of this world, but that's not what you had in mind, is it?
Shut up, please…
The truth is, surrounded by flames, the smell of smoke slowly suffocating you, you felt… ecstatic.
No… No, Jojo begged, shut up.
You felt a sense of fullness, the voice continued, relentless as Jojo, curled up, almost perceived the officer near him even though his eyes didn't see him, you celebrated victory against your enemies, and you savored that strength within you. That great and powerful strength, which you bought from the devil.
Jojo had no more strength. The images of that night, surrounded by flames, would no longer disappear from his mind now. His body was battered, twisted by fatigue and exhaustion. His mind wandered and a pain, a nameless sorrow screamed within him, but he also had the impression that all this was someone else's feeling. At that moment, what filled him completely was this power within him.
And Jojo was afraid, of these flames that were born around him, and of the fact that he was afraid of losing himself, too, afraid of becoming the worst version of himself.
Or perhaps, he had already become it.
So, he tried, for the past 3 years, to forget this power within him, like a motivated forgetting phenomenon.
And now, everything was coming back to him. And he no longer had the strength… to forget. He no longer had to.
"The important thing is not to be able to but to have to."
Stand up, the voice roared, the power of Cayor has slept too long in your hands. It is time for the blood of the tiédos to be honored once more!
Jojo gently closed his eyes… then gave in, a flood of information and power intoxicating him little by little, like a heavy, painful, but delirious hot flash after a dull and static coolness.
The words, almost imperceptibly, came out of his mouth.
_ Cayor, degloul sama baat!
_ (Cayor, hear my voice!)
The sembou reacted immediately within him in the form of an explosion of power. Jojo immediately gathered it around him, preventing his breath from breaking the barrier around him in a cocoon of flames. Runes and symbols appeared all along his arm, red-hot, like that night. His heart was ready and his body, despite its protests, seemed lighter than before. He knew which path to take, he also knew that at the end of this day it would only end one way, by victory.
Jojo the diambar was born that day.