Kuki Book One: The End

By Lumix de luminous

Book one is a tale set in the altered world following the war of the gods. Life cycled on for ages, burying the ancient tales beneath mounds of time. Dependence and submission to the gods had become a religion of sort, and the end was far from their thoughts. Kutri’s gods had been passively idle for ages, but now she was fully ripe for the fulfillment of prophecies. As time weaved its way through the paths of destiny, Kutri struggled to resist her fate. This time it was too late; the gods were out to play. Soon an epic battle emerged, kingdom marching out against kingdom. This is the story of how they fell.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jul 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496981042

Lumix de luminous

Lumix de luminous started out by writing short poems, and song lyrics. He has always been fascinated by the great book titles and bestsellers. In late 2004, he started to create a fascinating journey for his own readers. Kuki Book One (his first book) is the product of this creation, and also the first of a trilogy aimed at taking his readers through a journey of adventure and tragedy. Lumix is a seasoned Engineer/Project Manager and is married to Ayobola, together they have two kids.

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KUKI

BOOK ONE

The End

Lumix de luminous

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AuthorHouse™ UK Ltd.

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403 USA

www.authorhouse.co.uk

Phone: [phone]

© 2014 Lumix de luminous. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 05/15/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4969-8103-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-8104-2 (e)

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Once upon a time

At the dawn of life

When here was empty space

And paths were just beginning

There was assigned to us

A possibility of infinite limits

A chance of endless boundaries

A freedom of zero gravity

We conquered heights

And sailed depths

We discovered fire

And overcame space

If we had altered our course

When it was harder than the cause

If we were bothered by the cold

When we gathered for the gold

You would have an ocean of fear to cross

Now you arrive to a timely era

We have done the past

You can do the future

Go now

Go

To Dad, and Mum

The best part of my childhood

BOOK ONE

THEY SHALL COME

GREAT ARMIES FROM THE RISING OF DARKNESS

AND IN ONE SUNRISE

ALL OF KUTRI IS SENT TO OREN

THE END

It’s a boy—it’s a boy! Krochi, it’s a boy!

"Shhh! Keep that to you. Let it not come to ears, or the king’s anger will send you to Oren if it turns out he’s not a manchild.

And it had better be."

Without moving or showing any sign of excitement, Krochi crouched by the door leading into the inner chambers of the queen. He had hushed the maid who had brought him the tidings.

Good, at last, the queen is a woman, he thought. Better still, she had a boy, but only after the gods had spoken would it ever come to the king’s ear. In Kutri, he who tells an unfounded tale in the king’s ear shall live no more.

As he crouched, being still, Krochi meditated on the next sunrise, when he would stand before Katara and test if this child could be a man—and if he was an heir. He thought still how the next sunrise could turn out to be a memorable day in Kutri if the king had an heir.

*      *      *

There in the inner chambers, sprawled weakly on a mat, lay the queen, or rather the great queen of the land of Kutri, the land in the path of rest, of the supreme Katara, god of the sun. The last nine black moons had passed like a flash while in her grew a child—the king’s child.

The air in the room was still and filled with the smell of fresh flesh. Only one small window opened to the courts and gardens that lay beyond in the palace. Unnoticed by the maids, she had held her eyes shut all through the pains, for only she knew that the queen must not see her own blood.

Careful, she had reminded them, for the baby must not cry till its feet touched the water that had been placed in a corner of the room.

*      *      *

All is going well, Krochi said to himself as he rose to his feet.

He had just heard the baby cry, for Jabi was always cold. Poor little one, but that is the way it must be—the next sunrise shall tell.

Inside the palace, the air from the night had cooled all the chambers. Long corridors crossed each other in all directions, and armed guards were littered everywhere. Long flowing curtains stood at the entrance of every door branching into the chambers from the corridors. Every now and then young servants passed along the corridors with anything from food to clothing, satisfying the needs of the guests in the palace.

The walls were made of special clay bricks, and each appeared to be a work of art. Engravings, symbols, and writings were all baked into the bricks, and no two bricks were identical.

Up close to the ceiling hung lamps held up by bronze stands, giving the palace a warm light.

Opumi, opumi, opumi . . . Each of the guards bowed as a tall man hurried along, leaning on a short stick for every other step. He carried with him a smell like no other in Kutri, for only he washed in the waters of Jabi, and only he wore the leaves of the palm as clothes. Everywhere on his body grew untamed hair, for no razor must pass over his skin. Hanging around his hands, wrists, ankles, waist, and neck were several items—beads, cowries, gourds, leather, teeth, bones, small woodcarvings, and several other items like the seeds of unknown trees. The sound of his walking stick, his feet, and all the items hanging on him created a peculiar music as he headed home.

Ami, ami, ami . . . He waved a frail hand to each of the guards. He must reply to all, for superiors must always accept obeisance. He walked past the heavily guarded king’s chambers.

Ami, ami, he replied as he went on through the corridor of one hundred doors, fifty on each side.

Behind one of these doors lay the great king of Kutri, Kasanawa Komika Kuki. Only the maids who attended, and guards who kept the king knew in which room he lay, and none would see the king until sunrise.

The old man hurried on to the last door between the inner chambers of