Im sick of one piece so I'm creating a my own comic.
- Thread starter IsaziSempi
- Start date
i mean i just dont agree with anything you said other than this being offensive to god. This isn't a shounen so just showing a character standing their with their butt next to a waterfall talking about they want to do this and they want to do that is not what I'm going for. also it's not a lore ot's how the universe works and some really good works of fiction start with the lore like One piece or Berserk even though I'm not trying to be like them at all.
I'll make not of your criticism but honestly it just makes me want to write more in my own style. because the story isn't so much about the characters vs its about how the characters make decisions.
I'll make not of your criticism but honestly it just makes me want to write more in my own style. because the story isn't so much about the characters vs its about how the characters make decisions.
still working on a story board
https://ibb.co/0XXr7jk
https://ibb.co/fGTfYYX
https://ibb.co/LSzW4QM
https://ibb.co/XjLVNXS
https://ibb.co/x2w2qhj
https://ibb.co/0XXr7jk
https://ibb.co/fGTfYYX
https://ibb.co/LSzW4QM
https://ibb.co/XjLVNXS
https://ibb.co/x2w2qhj
@IsaziSempi how is the process of your manga?
working on the first page.
I think I've decided to make it a graphic novel. so I'm just writing the first volume and paying someone to draw it for me.
Abby was born in Egypt, to a black African mother and an Arabic father. She grew up in a multicultural household, feeling pampered by the love and warmth of her mother. One morning, Abby woke up to the smell of her mother's cooking. She rubbed her sleepy eyes and walked into the kitchen, where she saw her mother bustling about, preparing a hearty breakfast for her. "Good morning, my love," her mother said with a smile. "Come and have a seat." Abby sat down at the table, her eyes following her mother as she placed a plate of scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit in front of her. As she started eating, Abby's mother asked, "So, what do you have planned for today?" "I have school," Abby replied. "I don't really want to go, though. I have this strange feeling that something bad is going to happen." Her mother chuckled. "Oh, my dear. You worry too much. School is important espcially if you want to be a doctor and you'll have a great day, I'm sure of it." Abby was still feeling a little uneasy, but the love and warmth of her mother's presence was enough to chase the bad thoughts away. She finished breakfast and hugged her mother goodbye, promising to return with stories she loved to tell her mother. Abby would spend her down time at school thinking of interesting stories to surprise her mother. Once she had told her mother than her teacher at school said she was related to a prince. After that day they would discuss what it would be like to be married into a royal family and what type of cultures they would prefer to live in. As the day went on, Abby found herself distracted, her mind wandering back to that morning and her mother's smiling face. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. After class, Abby was walking home, lost in thought, when she heard her name being called. "Abby! Abby, wait up!" It was her friends, running to catch up to her. They asked her what was wrong, but Abby couldn't bring herself to tell them. She just smiled and shrugged it off, saying that she was just a little tired. The walk home was a quiet one, with Abby lost in thought. She was so deep in thought that she didn't even notice when she passed her house and kept walking, until she was a good distance away. Miles away. It was then that she saw her mother's face appear in her head, smiling a still and unwavering grin almost instantly the tears started to fall and she was overcome with grief. she began to run as fast as she could, in no general direction closer to the heart of Africa.
The girl from Abby's school sat down at the dinner table with her family, eagerly digging into the steaming plates of food in front of her. Her younger brother was babbling on about a video game he had been playing, while her mother was asking her father about his day at work.
"Pass the hummus, please," the girl said, interrupting her brother's monologue.
Her father handed her the bowl of hummus, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "So, how was school today?" he asked.
"It was fine," the girl replied, shrugging. "Just the usual stuff."
As she ate, the girl's thoughts drifted back to Abby, who she had stopped on the way home from school. She remembered the look of sadness in Abby's eyes and the feeling of unease that had settled in the pit of her stomach.
Suddenly, the sound of a news report caught her attention. The girl's mother had turned up the volume on the television, and the reporter's voice filled the room.
"Breaking news: a woman was found murdered in her home, her head separated from her shoulders," the reporter said, a somber tone in her voice.
The girl felt a surge of emotion and tears started to spill down her reddening cheeks. She remembered the conversation she had with Abby earlier that day and the strange feeling she had in her gut.
"What's wrong, honey?" her mother asked, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
The girl looked up, her eyes filled with tears, and replied, "It's Abby's mother. She's the woman who was killed."
Her parents exchanged a look of shock and disbelief. "The husband has been brought in for questioning but the married couples young 10 year old daughter is yet to be located" the girl news report blaring in the background through the deafening silence.
The room was filled with stunned silence as they all tried to process the news. The girl's father finally spoke up, breaking the silence. "We need to find your friend and let her know that we are here for her."
The girl nodded, still unable to shake the image of Abby's mother from her mind. She covered her eyes, trying to push back the tears, and took a deep breath
Abby had run for what felt like hours, tears streaming down her face as she tried to escape the reality of what had happened to her mother. Her hijab was torn and her feet were in so much pain that she could barely walk, but she didn't stop. She had managed to dodge every adult who had tried to question her during her breakdown, but now she had finally reached a place of stillness.
She found herself in a dark alleyway, surrounded by towering buildings on either side. She collapsed against the cold brick wall, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. She couldn't shake the image of her mother from her mind, and the pain was unbearable.
"What should I do?" she whispered to herself. "Should I end it all and just be with my mother, or should I try and live into the future?"
Her mind raced with thoughts of suicide, but then she remembered the last words her mother had said to her. "When you come home make sure you share an interesting story, it's so boring be at home all day".
Abby's thoughts consumed with anger and doubt. She hated her father for his role in her mother's death, for being a cruel and stupid man who lacked intelligence and empathy. "I feel trapped in the confines of the society that had brought my mother to fall in love with such a man" she thought. The traditions and ways of her old home now felt suffocating pressing her down into one spot right on top of her mother.
"Why did she even bother?" Abby muttered to herself. "Why did she waste her life on him?"
She stood up, pacing back and forth as she tried to process her emotions. She didn't hate being a woman or hate men, but she hated the poorly constructed society that limited her mother's options and ultimately led to her death.
"I can't stay here," she thought. "I need to get away from all of this. From the traditions and the confines and the restrictions and the lies."
"I hate myself". she bit her hand hard enough to draw blood. As upset as she was she felt overwhelming grief that she felt a little bit of relief. The death of her mother actually gave her a bit of relief that she could escape the place she always hated.
"The only thing I can control is to honor my mother's memory. It's the only thing I want. After that I can just die" “Escape society and find something better”
Abby was in a difficult situation following the death of her mother. Her mother had not seen her family in years, and as a result, there won't be a funeral for her. This leaves Abby without a place to grieve or honor her mother's memory in a traditional way.
Additionally, if Abby were to attend her mother's funeral, she fears that she might be forced into an orphanage or with her uncle. This fear stems from the fact that her mother had been estranged from her family for so long.
Despite these challenges, Abby managed to sneak into her house and gather some personal belongings.
Abby reached into the small wooden box that held her most precious possessions. Her fingers brushed against the smooth surface of a piece of paper and she withdrew it, gazing at the picture her mother had drawn. It was a place she had never seen before, but one that felt so familiar.
She remembered the day her mother had drawn this picture, back when Abby was just a little girl. She had walked into her mother's room to find her painting, and had asked her what it was. Her mother, who never liked to lie, had told her about a place she sometimes visited in her dreams.
"It's called the Eternal Garden," her mother had said, with a far-off look in her eyes. "It's a place that only a few chosen ones are allowed to go, a place filled with mystery and wonder."
Abby's mother had gone on to explain that the Eternal Garden was said to be located in Africa, but wasn't on any map or searchable on the internet. It was said to be a place of unparalleled beauty, with gardens and wonders beyond imagination.
Abby had asked her mother if she liked being there more than she liked being with her and Abby's father. Her mother had smiled and assured her that there was no place she'd rather be than with her family.
Now, as Abby gazed at the picture, she felt a sense of excitement and longing. The thought of discovering this mysterious place filled her with a sense of purpose and adventure. She wondered if the Eternal Garden really existed, and if it did, what secrets it held.
The more she thought about it, the more she felt drawn to it. She knew that she had to find out if the Eternal Garden was real, and if it was, she would discover its secrets and bring back a story that would honor her mother.
A few months have gone by since Abby left home, and she is finding that the money she took from her father's safe is running low. Traveling through Africa as a child has proven to be more dangerous than she expected, and she's already had several close encounters. She has reached Sudan, but her clothes are worn, and she's too scared to spend her money on anything but food. The journey is becoming more challenging with each passing day.
As she walks through the busy market, she feels overwhelmed by her surroundings. Everywhere she looks, she sees people with money to spare, haggling with merchants and buying goods. Meanwhile, Abby is barely surviving on a small amount of money and has no idea how to get more. As she makes her way through the dusty streets of a small village in Sudan, she feels defeated. She's running out of money, and she doesn't know how she will continue on her journey.
Then, she comes across an old man who is equally tattered, sitting outside a shop.
"Good day, young lady," the man greets her with kindness in his eyes.
Abby tells the man about her quest for the Eternal Garden, but she keeps the details to herself, mindful of the lessons she's learned about trust on her journey so far. The man listens intently and nods thoughtfully.
When Abby finishes, the man leans in close and whispers, "In my village, the Eternal Garden is known as the 'Garden of Olumide.'"
Abby is taken aback by the new name. "What does it mean?" she asks.
"It means the Garden of the Divine," the man replies. "It is said that when you reach a point where you feel like giving up, you're probably close."
Abby feels a flicker of hope. She's come this far, and she's not about to give up now. She thanks the man and continues on her journey.
A few weeks had passed since Abby had left the hospital, and she was feeling much better, but her strength was still not at full capacity. She had been forced to run away as soon as she had regained enough strength, as she was afraid for her life. She had no money, no place to go, and no one to turn to. The reality of her situation was hitting her hard.
As she walked through the streets of the city, she could sense that her appearance was attracting the wrong kind of attention. People were starting to take notice of her tattered clothes, her unkempt hair, and her desperate expression. She knew that she needed to find a safe place to stay, and fast.
In the year 2089, Rwanda had become a relatively safe haven in a region plagued by ongoing conflict. Despite the efforts of the local government, neighboring countries still struggled with terrorism and displacement, causing many refugees to seek refuge within Rwanda's borders.
One such refugee was a young girl named Ishma, who stumbled upon a strange figure lying in the mud along the path that led to her home. She immediately recognized the woman as an outsider, as her clothes were unlike anything she had ever seen before. As she approached, she noticed the woman was breathing, but was badly bruised and covered in mud.
Ishma cautiously approached the woman and gently lifted her head, trying to see if she was still alive. To her surprise, the woman stirred and moaned softly. Concerned for her safety, Ishma decided to bring the woman back to her home, where her mother, Umutoni, could care for her.
When they arrived, Umutoni was shocked to see the stranger lying on her doorstep. "Who is she?" she asked Ishma.
"I don't know, Mama," Ishma replied. "I found her lying in the mud on the path. She's badly hurt, and I think she needs our help."
Umutoni sighed and shook her head. "It's a dangerous world out there, my child. We must be careful who we bring into our home." Despite her reservations, Umutoni knew that it was their duty to help those in need, and so she agreed to care for the woman until she was well enough to leave.
As they tended to the woman's wounds, Umutoni and Ishma talked about her strange clothing and the state of exhaustion she was in. "She must have traveled a long way," Umutoni said, as she cleaned the woman's wounds. "But what could have caused such injuries? And why was she alone?"
Ishma shuddered, "Maybe she was being trafficked. I've heard stories of women being taken across borders and sold into slavery."
Umutoni nodded, "That is a possibility. But there are many other reasons someone might be traveling alone in these dangerous times."
As they speculated about the woman's identity and her journey, Umutoni and Ishma continued to care for her.
In the year 2089, Rwanda had become a relatively safe haven in a region plagued by ongoing conflict. Despite the efforts of the local government, neighboring countries still struggled with terrorism and displacement, causing many refugees to seek refuge within Rwanda's borders.
One such refugee was a young girl named Ishma, who stumbled upon a strange figure lying in the mud along the path that led to her home. She immediately recognized the woman as an outsider, as her clothes were unlike anything she had ever seen before. As she approached, she noticed the woman was breathing, but was badly bruised and covered in mud.
Ishma cautiously approached the woman and gently lifted her head, trying to see if she was still alive. To her surprise, the woman stirred and moaned softly. Concerned for her safety, Ishma decided to bring the woman back to her home, where her mother, Umutoni, could care for her.
When they arrived, Umutoni was shocked to see the stranger lying on her doorstep. "Who is she?" she asked Ishma.
"I don't know, Mama," Ishma replied. "I found her lying in the mud on the path. She's badly hurt, and I think she needs our help."
Umutoni sighed and shook her head. "It's a dangerous world out there, my child. We must be careful who we bring into our home." Despite her reservations, Umutoni knew that it was their duty to help those in need, and so she agreed to care for the woman until she was well enough to leave.
As they tended to the woman's wounds, Umutoni and Ishma talked about her strange clothing and the state of exhaustion she was in. "She must have traveled a long way," Umutoni said, as she cleaned the woman's wounds. "But what could have caused such injuries? And why was she alone?"
Ishma shuddered, "Maybe she was being trafficked. I've heard stories of women being taken across borders and sold into slavery."
Umutoni nodded, "That is a possibility. But there are many other reasons someone might be traveling alone in these dangerous times."
As they speculated about the woman's identity and her journey, Umutoni and Ishma continued to care for her.
As the days passed, the woman slowly regained consciousness. Her injuries had been tended to, and she was well enough to sit up and speak. When she finally awoke, she was greeted by the concerned faces of Ishma and Umutoni.
"Who are you?" Umutoni asked, her voice filled with curiosity. "Where did you come from?"
The woman hesitated, her eyes darting from one face to the other. She was unsure of how much to reveal, but she felt a deep sense of gratitude towards the mother and daughter who had taken her in and cared for her.
"My name is Abby," she said softly. "I... I don't remember much. I was on a journey, and I don't know how I ended up here."
Ishma and Umutoni exchanged a look, both of them fascinated by the stranger's strange clothing and her cryptic words. They asked her many questions, trying to piece together the mystery of her journey. But Abby was reluctant to reveal too much, and she evaded their questions with carefully chosen words.
"I was looking for something," she said finally. "Something that I can't explain. Something important."
"What was it that you were looking for?" Ishma asked, her eyes wide with wonder.
Abby shook her head, "I can't say. But I need to continue my search. I need to find what I was looking for."
Umutoni and Ishma could see the determination in Abby's eyes, and they knew that they would not be able to keep her here for long.
as the sun was setting, Ishma, the young girl who had found Abby, asked her an outlandish question. "Are you from the moon?" she asked, her eyes wide with wonder.
Abby couldn't help but laugh, "No, I'm not from the moon. I'm from Earth, just like you."
Ishma's mother, Umutoni, apologized for her daughter's questions, "I'm so sorry, she can be a little silly sometimes."
But Abby just smiled, "It's alright, I don't mind. It's actually a little funny."
As she laughed, Abby couldn't help but reflect on how different Ishma was from herself. Despite being nearly the same age, Ishma still had a childlike innocence and wonder about the world. Abby, on the other hand, had been on her own for nearly a year and had experienced things that no child should have to endure. She had seen the horrors of war and witnessed the cruel treatment of refugees. She had been pushed to the brink of exhaustion, both physically and emotionally, and had come out the other side a different person.
Abby realized then that she was no longer a normal child. She had been forced to grow up too quickly and had lost a part of her childhood in the process.
In the year 2089, Rwanda had become a relatively safe haven in a region plagued by ongoing conflict. Despite the efforts of the local government, neighboring countries still struggled with terrorism and displacement, causing many refugees to seek refuge within Rwanda's borders.
One such refugee was a young girl named Ishma, who stumbled upon a strange figure lying in the mud along the path that led to her home. She immediately recognized the woman as an outsider, as her clothes were unlike anything she had ever seen before. As she approached, she noticed the woman was breathing, but was badly bruised and covered in mud.
Ishma cautiously approached the woman and gently lifted her head, trying to see if she was still alive. To her surprise, the woman stirred and moaned softly. Concerned for her safety, Ishma decided to bring the woman back to her home, where her mother, Umutoni, could care for her.
When they arrived, Umutoni was shocked to see the stranger lying on her doorstep. "Who is she?" she asked Ishma.
"I don't know, Mama," Ishma replied. "I found her lying in the mud on the path. She's badly hurt, and I think she needs our help."
Umutoni sighed and shook her head. "It's a dangerous world out there, my child. We must be careful who we bring into our home." Despite her reservations, Umutoni knew that it was their duty to help those in need, and so she agreed to care for the woman until she was well enough to leave.
As they tended to the woman's wounds, Umutoni and Ishma talked about her strange clothing and the state of exhaustion she was in. "She must have traveled a long way," Umutoni said, as she cleaned the woman's wounds. "But what could have caused such injuries? And why was she alone?"
Ishma shuddered, "Maybe she was being trafficked. I've heard stories of women being taken across borders and sold into slavery."
Umutoni nodded, "That is a possibility. But there are many other reasons someone might be traveling alone in these dangerous times."
As they speculated about the woman's identity and her journey, Umutoni and Ishma continued to care for her.
As the days passed, the woman slowly regained consciousness. Her injuries had been tended to, and she was well enough to sit up and speak. When she finally awoke, she was greeted by the concerned faces of Ishma and Umutoni.
"Who are you?" Umutoni asked, her voice filled with curiosity. "Where did you come from?"
The woman hesitated, her eyes darting from one face to the other. She was unsure of how much to reveal, but she felt a deep sense of gratitude towards the mother and daughter who had taken her in and cared for her.
"My name is Abby," she said softly. "I... I don't remember much. I was on a journey, and I don't know how I ended up here."
Ishma and Umutoni exchanged a look, both of them fascinated by the stranger's strange clothing and her cryptic words. They asked her many questions, trying to piece together the mystery of her journey. But Abby was reluctant to reveal too much, and she evaded their questions with carefully chosen words.
"I was looking for something," she said finally. "Something that I can't explain. Something important."
"What was it that you were looking for?" Ishma asked, her eyes wide with wonder.
Abby shook her head, "I can't say. But I need to continue my search. I need to find what I was looking for."
Umutoni and Ishma could see the determination in Abby's eyes, and they knew that they would not be able to keep her here for long.
as the sun was setting, Ishma, the young girl who had found Abby, asked her an outlandish question. "Are you from the moon?" she asked, her eyes wide with wonder.
Abby couldn't help but laugh, "No, I'm not from the moon. I'm from Earth, just like you."
Ishma's mother, Umutoni, apologized for her daughter's questions, "I'm so sorry, she can be a little silly sometimes."
But Abby just smiled, "It's alright, I don't mind. It's actually a little funny."
As she laughed, Abby couldn't help but reflect on how different Ishma was from herself. Despite being nearly the same age, Ishma still had a childlike innocence and wonder about the world. Abby, on the other hand, had been on her own for nearly a year and had experienced things that no child should have to endure. She had seen the horrors of war and witnessed the cruel treatment of refugees. She had been pushed to the brink of exhaustion, both physically and emotionally, and had come out the other side a different person.
Abby realized then that she was no longer a normal child. She had been forced to grow up too quickly and had lost a part of her childhood in the process.
As Abby helped Umutoni with her chores, she learned more about the living arrangements. "This home is owned by my husband," Umutoni shared, "He's an engineer and has a few other properties and farms, not to mention multiple wives."
Abby raised her eyebrows, "Multiple wives?"
Umutoni nodded, "Yes, it's a common practice here. Though he's often occupied with his work, and doesn't visit as much as we'd like."
Abby mentioned her aspiration to become a doctor, and Umutoni offered a suggestion. "If you're open to the idea, my husband may allow you to pursue your studies and become a doctor if you agree to become a wife."
Abby's expression grew solemn, "I couldn't be a child wife. That goes against my beliefs."
Umutoni nodded in understanding, "I understand where you're coming from. But, if you agree to marry my husband's son, he may consider providing a place for you to stay and pursue your education. Otherwise, you're welcome to stay here and work with me."
The offer was tempting, but Abby felt torn. The idea of being pledged to a stranger as a bargaining chip and being forced into a life she didn't want was unsettling.
Despite the heavy topic of conversation, the mood remained positive. Abby and Umutoni worked together efficiently, exchanging laughter and anecdotes as they went about their chores.
A man named Zaka was sitting with his son Mufasa and a little girl named Abby. They were in the jungle, surrounded by the sounds of nature. Zaka, a warrior, was teaching the children about the duties of a warrior.
"In our field, a warrior's main objective is to know," Zaka said. "To know the land, look for traps and set your own. Know the number of enemies and what you can sabotage. Our position is separate from the soldiers as they follow a line of command. If they are captured, it is imperative that his rescue is of high priority. Ours as warriors is not, as we don't have a line of command and don't have any information, so we can't be tortured for information."
"We never work in groups larger than ten," Zaka continued. "To destroy a battalion of soldiers is easy. Once you have their heat signature or general location, you can easily eliminate them. To find a single combatant in a jungle arena or even an urban environment is nearly impossible."
"The way we fight is separated into 5 stages," Zaka said. "The first stage" Zaka said swing his arms side to side rhythmically. "Is my body, if an enemy finds himself lucky enough to find his way into this zone I will use my striking, punches and kicks as well as grappling. Also use of a weapon to extend your range is important. I use a short sword to extend my range a couple of feet. Silent weapons are preferred over handguns, as our objective is not a firefight but to observe our enemy and pick them off one by one."
"The second stage is where a long-distance weapon is used," Zaka continued. "Anything beyond twenty or thirty feet, we have a rifle or arm-rifle. The third stage is to find the tall trees. This is a code word. On any battlefield, you will find other warriors hidden and their objective is the same as yours, but their methods are different."
"Other than a warrior, you will find a seerer," Zaka said. "Their objective is to also find and lay traps, but their main objective is to communicate important information to you. They watch over a battlefield and give you information and possible objectives. If by chance you are caught, they will disconnect communication for you and wait for a new warrior."
"The third type is a stone," Zaka continued. "The stone objective is to remain hidden. They specialize in not being seen. They also have a much stronger arsenal. Your beacon, if you should be so successful, once placed, will give the stone the exact location of a group of enemies or important infrastructure. Once the beacon is activated, they will take it out by any means necessary. This can be done in a massively destructive way or by means of sending in airstrikes or other reinforcements."
"He is considered your fourth stage," Zaka said. "As he can hit targets up to a mile away. The fifth stage is if you are in an ongoing full warfare situation. If you happen to have a rank of 1000 or above, you have access to weaponry that can strike from multiple miles."
The little girl asked why they fought in the first place. Zaka replied, "If you are a nation, you should avoid war. Life is precious, and bloodshed is not the solution to most problems. If you are a soldier, the reason to fight is your duty. You follow orders, do things by the book, serve your time, and go home to your family."
"But for a warrior, the story is much different," Zaka said. "For every kill you get, your rank goes up by 2. This is why our first oath is to never lie about a kill. Our reason to fight is simply for the purpose of getting stronger, to see what is in us
Mufasa gazed at Zaka with wonder and admiration, and couldn't resist asking the question that had been on his mind, "Zaka, what is your rank as a warrior?" Zaka replied with fierce determination, "My rank is of no importance to me. What matters is my belief in the code of the warriors and my unwavering commitment to my mission." However, despite Zaka's modest response, his rank was a well-known legend throughout the land, soaring above 4000, and was a symbol of his exceptional skills and bravery as a warrior. He was revered as a fierce and relentless warrior, who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals and protect his beliefs, making him one of the most epic figures in the land.
Post automatically merged:
I think I've decided to make it a graphic novel. so I'm just writing the first volume and paying someone to draw it for me.
Abby was born in Egypt, to a black African mother and an Arabic father. She grew up in a multicultural household, feeling pampered by the love and warmth of her mother. One morning, Abby woke up to the smell of her mother's cooking. She rubbed her sleepy eyes and walked into the kitchen, where she saw her mother bustling about, preparing a hearty breakfast for her. "Good morning, my love," her mother said with a smile. "Come and have a seat." Abby sat down at the table, her eyes following her mother as she placed a plate of scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit in front of her. As she started eating, Abby's mother asked, "So, what do you have planned for today?" "I have school," Abby replied. "I don't really want to go, though. I have this strange feeling that something bad is going to happen." Her mother chuckled. "Oh, my dear. You worry too much. School is important espcially if you want to be a doctor and you'll have a great day, I'm sure of it." Abby was still feeling a little uneasy, but the love and warmth of her mother's presence was enough to chase the bad thoughts away. She finished breakfast and hugged her mother goodbye, promising to return with stories she loved to tell her mother. Abby would spend her down time at school thinking of interesting stories to surprise her mother. Once she had told her mother than her teacher at school said she was related to a prince. After that day they would discuss what it would be like to be married into a royal family and what type of cultures they would prefer to live in. As the day went on, Abby found herself distracted, her mind wandering back to that morning and her mother's smiling face. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. After class, Abby was walking home, lost in thought, when she heard her name being called. "Abby! Abby, wait up!" It was her friends, running to catch up to her. They asked her what was wrong, but Abby couldn't bring herself to tell them. She just smiled and shrugged it off, saying that she was just a little tired. The walk home was a quiet one, with Abby lost in thought. She was so deep in thought that she didn't even notice when she passed her house and kept walking, until she was a good distance away. Miles away. It was then that she saw her mother's face appear in her head, smiling a still and unwavering grin almost instantly the tears started to fall and she was overcome with grief. she began to run as fast as she could, in no general direction closer to the heart of Africa.
The girl from Abby's school sat down at the dinner table with her family, eagerly digging into the steaming plates of food in front of her. Her younger brother was babbling on about a video game he had been playing, while her mother was asking her father about his day at work.
"Pass the hummus, please," the girl said, interrupting her brother's monologue.
Her father handed her the bowl of hummus, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "So, how was school today?" he asked.
"It was fine," the girl replied, shrugging. "Just the usual stuff."
As she ate, the girl's thoughts drifted back to Abby, who she had stopped on the way home from school. She remembered the look of sadness in Abby's eyes and the feeling of unease that had settled in the pit of her stomach.
Suddenly, the sound of a news report caught her attention. The girl's mother had turned up the volume on the television, and the reporter's voice filled the room.
"Breaking news: a woman was found murdered in her home, her head separated from her shoulders," the reporter said, a somber tone in her voice.
The girl felt a surge of emotion and tears started to spill down her reddening cheeks. She remembered the conversation she had with Abby earlier that day and the strange feeling she had in her gut.
"What's wrong, honey?" her mother asked, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
The girl looked up, her eyes filled with tears, and replied, "It's Abby's mother. She's the woman who was killed."
Her parents exchanged a look of shock and disbelief. "The husband has been brought in for questioning but the married couples young 10 year old daughter is yet to be located" the girl news report blaring in the background through the deafening silence.
The room was filled with stunned silence as they all tried to process the news. The girl's father finally spoke up, breaking the silence. "We need to find your friend and let her know that we are here for her."
The girl nodded, still unable to shake the image of Abby's mother from her mind. She covered her eyes, trying to push back the tears, and took a deep breath
Abby had run for what felt like hours, tears streaming down her face as she tried to escape the reality of what had happened to her mother. Her hijab was torn and her feet were in so much pain that she could barely walk, but she didn't stop. She had managed to dodge every adult who had tried to question her during her breakdown, but now she had finally reached a place of stillness.
She found herself in a dark alleyway, surrounded by towering buildings on either side. She collapsed against the cold brick wall, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. She couldn't shake the image of her mother from her mind, and the pain was unbearable.
"What should I do?" she whispered to herself. "Should I end it all and just be with my mother, or should I try and live into the future?"
Her mind raced with thoughts of suicide, but then she remembered the last words her mother had said to her. "When you come home make sure you share an interesting story, it's so boring be at home all day".
Abby's thoughts consumed with anger and doubt. She hated her father for his role in her mother's death, for being a cruel and stupid man who lacked intelligence and empathy. "I feel trapped in the confines of the society that had brought my mother to fall in love with such a man" she thought. The traditions and ways of her old home now felt suffocating pressing her down into one spot right on top of her mother.
"Why did she even bother?" Abby muttered to herself. "Why did she waste her life on him?"
She stood up, pacing back and forth as she tried to process her emotions. She didn't hate being a woman or hate men, but she hated the poorly constructed society that limited her mother's options and ultimately led to her death.
"I can't stay here," she thought. "I need to get away from all of this. From the traditions and the confines and the restrictions and the lies."
"I hate myself". she bit her hand hard enough to draw blood. As upset as she was she felt overwhelming grief that she felt a little bit of relief. The death of her mother actually gave her a bit of relief that she could escape the place she always hated.
"The only thing I can control is to honor my mother's memory. It's the only thing I want. After that I can just die" “Escape society and find something better”
Abby was in a difficult situation following the death of her mother. Her mother had not seen her family in years, and as a result, there won't be a funeral for her. This leaves Abby without a place to grieve or honor her mother's memory in a traditional way.
Additionally, if Abby were to attend her mother's funeral, she fears that she might be forced into an orphanage or with her uncle. This fear stems from the fact that her mother had been estranged from her family for so long.
Despite these challenges, Abby managed to sneak into her house and gather some personal belongings.
Abby reached into the small wooden box that held her most precious possessions. Her fingers brushed against the smooth surface of a piece of paper and she withdrew it, gazing at the picture her mother had drawn. It was a place she had never seen before, but one that felt so familiar.
She remembered the day her mother had drawn this picture, back when Abby was just a little girl. She had walked into her mother's room to find her painting, and had asked her what it was. Her mother, who never liked to lie, had told her about a place she sometimes visited in her dreams.
"It's called the Eternal Garden," her mother had said, with a far-off look in her eyes. "It's a place that only a few chosen ones are allowed to go, a place filled with mystery and wonder."
Abby's mother had gone on to explain that the Eternal Garden was said to be located in Africa, but wasn't on any map or searchable on the internet. It was said to be a place of unparalleled beauty, with gardens and wonders beyond imagination.
Abby had asked her mother if she liked being there more than she liked being with her and Abby's father. Her mother had smiled and assured her that there was no place she'd rather be than with her family.
Now, as Abby gazed at the picture, she felt a sense of excitement and longing. The thought of discovering this mysterious place filled her with a sense of purpose and adventure. She wondered if the Eternal Garden really existed, and if it did, what secrets it held.
The more she thought about it, the more she felt drawn to it. She knew that she had to find out if the Eternal Garden was real, and if it was, she would discover its secrets and bring back a story that would honor her mother.
A few months have gone by since Abby left home, and she is finding that the money she took from her father's safe is running low. Traveling through Africa as a child has proven to be more dangerous than she expected, and she's already had several close encounters. She has reached Sudan, but her clothes are worn, and she's too scared to spend her money on anything but food. The journey is becoming more challenging with each passing day.
As she walks through the busy market, she feels overwhelmed by her surroundings. Everywhere she looks, she sees people with money to spare, haggling with merchants and buying goods. Meanwhile, Abby is barely surviving on a small amount of money and has no idea how to get more. As she makes her way through the dusty streets of a small village in Sudan, she feels defeated. She's running out of money, and she doesn't know how she will continue on her journey.
Then, she comes across an old man who is equally tattered, sitting outside a shop.
"Good day, young lady," the man greets her with kindness in his eyes.
Abby tells the man about her quest for the Eternal Garden, but she keeps the details to herself, mindful of the lessons she's learned about trust on her journey so far. The man listens intently and nods thoughtfully.
When Abby finishes, the man leans in close and whispers, "In my village, the Eternal Garden is known as the 'Garden of Olumide.'"
Abby is taken aback by the new name. "What does it mean?" she asks.
"It means the Garden of the Divine," the man replies. "It is said that when you reach a point where you feel like giving up, you're probably close."
Abby feels a flicker of hope. She's come this far, and she's not about to give up now. She thanks the man and continues on her journey.
A few weeks had passed since Abby had left the hospital, and she was feeling much better, but her strength was still not at full capacity. She had been forced to run away as soon as she had regained enough strength, as she was afraid for her life. She had no money, no place to go, and no one to turn to. The reality of her situation was hitting her hard.
As she walked through the streets of the city, she could sense that her appearance was attracting the wrong kind of attention. People were starting to take notice of her tattered clothes, her unkempt hair, and her desperate expression. She knew that she needed to find a safe place to stay, and fast.
In the year 2089, Rwanda had become a relatively safe haven in a region plagued by ongoing conflict. Despite the efforts of the local government, neighboring countries still struggled with terrorism and displacement, causing many refugees to seek refuge within Rwanda's borders.
One such refugee was a young girl named Ishma, who stumbled upon a strange figure lying in the mud along the path that led to her home. She immediately recognized the woman as an outsider, as her clothes were unlike anything she had ever seen before. As she approached, she noticed the woman was breathing, but was badly bruised and covered in mud.
Ishma cautiously approached the woman and gently lifted her head, trying to see if she was still alive. To her surprise, the woman stirred and moaned softly. Concerned for her safety, Ishma decided to bring the woman back to her home, where her mother, Umutoni, could care for her.
When they arrived, Umutoni was shocked to see the stranger lying on her doorstep. "Who is she?" she asked Ishma.
"I don't know, Mama," Ishma replied. "I found her lying in the mud on the path. She's badly hurt, and I think she needs our help."
Umutoni sighed and shook her head. "It's a dangerous world out there, my child. We must be careful who we bring into our home." Despite her reservations, Umutoni knew that it was their duty to help those in need, and so she agreed to care for the woman until she was well enough to leave.
As they tended to the woman's wounds, Umutoni and Ishma talked about her strange clothing and the state of exhaustion she was in. "She must have traveled a long way," Umutoni said, as she cleaned the woman's wounds. "But what could have caused such injuries? And why was she alone?"
Ishma shuddered, "Maybe she was being trafficked. I've heard stories of women being taken across borders and sold into slavery."
Umutoni nodded, "That is a possibility. But there are many other reasons someone might be traveling alone in these dangerous times."
As they speculated about the woman's identity and her journey, Umutoni and Ishma continued to care for her.
In the year 2089, Rwanda had become a relatively safe haven in a region plagued by ongoing conflict. Despite the efforts of the local government, neighboring countries still struggled with terrorism and displacement, causing many refugees to seek refuge within Rwanda's borders.
One such refugee was a young girl named Ishma, who stumbled upon a strange figure lying in the mud along the path that led to her home. She immediately recognized the woman as an outsider, as her clothes were unlike anything she had ever seen before. As she approached, she noticed the woman was breathing, but was badly bruised and covered in mud.
Ishma cautiously approached the woman and gently lifted her head, trying to see if she was still alive. To her surprise, the woman stirred and moaned softly. Concerned for her safety, Ishma decided to bring the woman back to her home, where her mother, Umutoni, could care for her.
When they arrived, Umutoni was shocked to see the stranger lying on her doorstep. "Who is she?" she asked Ishma.
"I don't know, Mama," Ishma replied. "I found her lying in the mud on the path. She's badly hurt, and I think she needs our help."
Umutoni sighed and shook her head. "It's a dangerous world out there, my child. We must be careful who we bring into our home." Despite her reservations, Umutoni knew that it was their duty to help those in need, and so she agreed to care for the woman until she was well enough to leave.
As they tended to the woman's wounds, Umutoni and Ishma talked about her strange clothing and the state of exhaustion she was in. "She must have traveled a long way," Umutoni said, as she cleaned the woman's wounds. "But what could have caused such injuries? And why was she alone?"
Ishma shuddered, "Maybe she was being trafficked. I've heard stories of women being taken across borders and sold into slavery."
Umutoni nodded, "That is a possibility. But there are many other reasons someone might be traveling alone in these dangerous times."
As they speculated about the woman's identity and her journey, Umutoni and Ishma continued to care for her.
As the days passed, the woman slowly regained consciousness. Her injuries had been tended to, and she was well enough to sit up and speak. When she finally awoke, she was greeted by the concerned faces of Ishma and Umutoni.
"Who are you?" Umutoni asked, her voice filled with curiosity. "Where did you come from?"
The woman hesitated, her eyes darting from one face to the other. She was unsure of how much to reveal, but she felt a deep sense of gratitude towards the mother and daughter who had taken her in and cared for her.
"My name is Abby," she said softly. "I... I don't remember much. I was on a journey, and I don't know how I ended up here."
Ishma and Umutoni exchanged a look, both of them fascinated by the stranger's strange clothing and her cryptic words. They asked her many questions, trying to piece together the mystery of her journey. But Abby was reluctant to reveal too much, and she evaded their questions with carefully chosen words.
"I was looking for something," she said finally. "Something that I can't explain. Something important."
"What was it that you were looking for?" Ishma asked, her eyes wide with wonder.
Abby shook her head, "I can't say. But I need to continue my search. I need to find what I was looking for."
Umutoni and Ishma could see the determination in Abby's eyes, and they knew that they would not be able to keep her here for long.
as the sun was setting, Ishma, the young girl who had found Abby, asked her an outlandish question. "Are you from the moon?" she asked, her eyes wide with wonder.
Abby couldn't help but laugh, "No, I'm not from the moon. I'm from Earth, just like you."
Ishma's mother, Umutoni, apologized for her daughter's questions, "I'm so sorry, she can be a little silly sometimes."
But Abby just smiled, "It's alright, I don't mind. It's actually a little funny."
As she laughed, Abby couldn't help but reflect on how different Ishma was from herself. Despite being nearly the same age, Ishma still had a childlike innocence and wonder about the world. Abby, on the other hand, had been on her own for nearly a year and had experienced things that no child should have to endure. She had seen the horrors of war and witnessed the cruel treatment of refugees. She had been pushed to the brink of exhaustion, both physically and emotionally, and had come out the other side a different person.
Abby realized then that she was no longer a normal child. She had been forced to grow up too quickly and had lost a part of her childhood in the process.
In the year 2089, Rwanda had become a relatively safe haven in a region plagued by ongoing conflict. Despite the efforts of the local government, neighboring countries still struggled with terrorism and displacement, causing many refugees to seek refuge within Rwanda's borders.
One such refugee was a young girl named Ishma, who stumbled upon a strange figure lying in the mud along the path that led to her home. She immediately recognized the woman as an outsider, as her clothes were unlike anything she had ever seen before. As she approached, she noticed the woman was breathing, but was badly bruised and covered in mud.
Ishma cautiously approached the woman and gently lifted her head, trying to see if she was still alive. To her surprise, the woman stirred and moaned softly. Concerned for her safety, Ishma decided to bring the woman back to her home, where her mother, Umutoni, could care for her.
When they arrived, Umutoni was shocked to see the stranger lying on her doorstep. "Who is she?" she asked Ishma.
"I don't know, Mama," Ishma replied. "I found her lying in the mud on the path. She's badly hurt, and I think she needs our help."
Umutoni sighed and shook her head. "It's a dangerous world out there, my child. We must be careful who we bring into our home." Despite her reservations, Umutoni knew that it was their duty to help those in need, and so she agreed to care for the woman until she was well enough to leave.
As they tended to the woman's wounds, Umutoni and Ishma talked about her strange clothing and the state of exhaustion she was in. "She must have traveled a long way," Umutoni said, as she cleaned the woman's wounds. "But what could have caused such injuries? And why was she alone?"
Ishma shuddered, "Maybe she was being trafficked. I've heard stories of women being taken across borders and sold into slavery."
Umutoni nodded, "That is a possibility. But there are many other reasons someone might be traveling alone in these dangerous times."
As they speculated about the woman's identity and her journey, Umutoni and Ishma continued to care for her.
As the days passed, the woman slowly regained consciousness. Her injuries had been tended to, and she was well enough to sit up and speak. When she finally awoke, she was greeted by the concerned faces of Ishma and Umutoni.
"Who are you?" Umutoni asked, her voice filled with curiosity. "Where did you come from?"
The woman hesitated, her eyes darting from one face to the other. She was unsure of how much to reveal, but she felt a deep sense of gratitude towards the mother and daughter who had taken her in and cared for her.
"My name is Abby," she said softly. "I... I don't remember much. I was on a journey, and I don't know how I ended up here."
Ishma and Umutoni exchanged a look, both of them fascinated by the stranger's strange clothing and her cryptic words. They asked her many questions, trying to piece together the mystery of her journey. But Abby was reluctant to reveal too much, and she evaded their questions with carefully chosen words.
"I was looking for something," she said finally. "Something that I can't explain. Something important."
"What was it that you were looking for?" Ishma asked, her eyes wide with wonder.
Abby shook her head, "I can't say. But I need to continue my search. I need to find what I was looking for."
Umutoni and Ishma could see the determination in Abby's eyes, and they knew that they would not be able to keep her here for long.
as the sun was setting, Ishma, the young girl who had found Abby, asked her an outlandish question. "Are you from the moon?" she asked, her eyes wide with wonder.
Abby couldn't help but laugh, "No, I'm not from the moon. I'm from Earth, just like you."
Ishma's mother, Umutoni, apologized for her daughter's questions, "I'm so sorry, she can be a little silly sometimes."
But Abby just smiled, "It's alright, I don't mind. It's actually a little funny."
As she laughed, Abby couldn't help but reflect on how different Ishma was from herself. Despite being nearly the same age, Ishma still had a childlike innocence and wonder about the world. Abby, on the other hand, had been on her own for nearly a year and had experienced things that no child should have to endure. She had seen the horrors of war and witnessed the cruel treatment of refugees. She had been pushed to the brink of exhaustion, both physically and emotionally, and had come out the other side a different person.
Abby realized then that she was no longer a normal child. She had been forced to grow up too quickly and had lost a part of her childhood in the process.
As Abby helped Umutoni with her chores, she learned more about the living arrangements. "This home is owned by my husband," Umutoni shared, "He's an engineer and has a few other properties and farms, not to mention multiple wives."
Abby raised her eyebrows, "Multiple wives?"
Umutoni nodded, "Yes, it's a common practice here. Though he's often occupied with his work, and doesn't visit as much as we'd like."
Abby mentioned her aspiration to become a doctor, and Umutoni offered a suggestion. "If you're open to the idea, my husband may allow you to pursue your studies and become a doctor if you agree to become a wife."
Abby's expression grew solemn, "I couldn't be a child wife. That goes against my beliefs."
Umutoni nodded in understanding, "I understand where you're coming from. But, if you agree to marry my husband's son, he may consider providing a place for you to stay and pursue your education. Otherwise, you're welcome to stay here and work with me."
The offer was tempting, but Abby felt torn. The idea of being pledged to a stranger as a bargaining chip and being forced into a life she didn't want was unsettling.
Despite the heavy topic of conversation, the mood remained positive. Abby and Umutoni worked together efficiently, exchanging laughter and anecdotes as they went about their chores.
A man named Zaka was sitting with his son Mufasa and a little girl named Abby. They were in the jungle, surrounded by the sounds of nature. Zaka, a warrior, was teaching the children about the duties of a warrior.
"In our field, a warrior's main objective is to know," Zaka said. "To know the land, look for traps and set your own. Know the number of enemies and what you can sabotage. Our position is separate from the soldiers as they follow a line of command. If they are captured, it is imperative that his rescue is of high priority. Ours as warriors is not, as we don't have a line of command and don't have any information, so we can't be tortured for information."
"We never work in groups larger than ten," Zaka continued. "To destroy a battalion of soldiers is easy. Once you have their heat signature or general location, you can easily eliminate them. To find a single combatant in a jungle arena or even an urban environment is nearly impossible."
"The way we fight is separated into 5 stages," Zaka said. "The first stage" Zaka said swing his arms side to side rhythmically. "Is my body, if an enemy finds himself lucky enough to find his way into this zone I will use my striking, punches and kicks as well as grappling. Also use of a weapon to extend your range is important. I use a short sword to extend my range a couple of feet. Silent weapons are preferred over handguns, as our objective is not a firefight but to observe our enemy and pick them off one by one."
"The second stage is where a long-distance weapon is used," Zaka continued. "Anything beyond twenty or thirty feet, we have a rifle or arm-rifle. The third stage is to find the tall trees. This is a code word. On any battlefield, you will find other warriors hidden and their objective is the same as yours, but their methods are different."
"Other than a warrior, you will find a seerer," Zaka said. "Their objective is to also find and lay traps, but their main objective is to communicate important information to you. They watch over a battlefield and give you information and possible objectives. If by chance you are caught, they will disconnect communication for you and wait for a new warrior."
"The third type is a stone," Zaka continued. "The stone objective is to remain hidden. They specialize in not being seen. They also have a much stronger arsenal. Your beacon, if you should be so successful, once placed, will give the stone the exact location of a group of enemies or important infrastructure. Once the beacon is activated, they will take it out by any means necessary. This can be done in a massively destructive way or by means of sending in airstrikes or other reinforcements."
"He is considered your fourth stage," Zaka said. "As he can hit targets up to a mile away. The fifth stage is if you are in an ongoing full warfare situation. If you happen to have a rank of 1000 or above, you have access to weaponry that can strike from multiple miles."
The little girl asked why they fought in the first place. Zaka replied, "If you are a nation, you should avoid war. Life is precious, and bloodshed is not the solution to most problems. If you are a soldier, the reason to fight is your duty. You follow orders, do things by the book, serve your time, and go home to your family."
"But for a warrior, the story is much different," Zaka said. "For every kill you get, your rank goes up by 2. This is why our first oath is to never lie about a kill. Our reason to fight is simply for the purpose of getting stronger, to see what is in us
Mufasa gazed at Zaka with wonder and admiration, and couldn't resist asking the question that had been on his mind, "Zaka, what is your rank as a warrior?" Zaka replied with fierce determination, "My rank is of no importance to me. What matters is my belief in the code of the warriors and my unwavering commitment to my mission." However, despite Zaka's modest response, his rank was a well-known legend throughout the land, soaring above 4000, and was a symbol of his exceptional skills and bravery as a warrior. He was revered as a fierce and relentless warrior, who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals and protect his beliefs, making him one of the most epic figures in the land.
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