Forget Everything and Run

PROLOGUE

The only things Chief Orioka cherished more than power and money were his favourite demons; Discouragement and Covetousness.

People in the shackles of the former were easy to manipulate, and people in the bondage of the latter were prone to distractions. Orioka chuckled at the memory of two of his most prominent enemies, or to put it more appropriately, his antagonists. How dare they question his authority? Did they not know that all chickens are eventually eaten? The villagers wept and gnashed their teeth, because two fools were 'gone too soon' and their deaths were 'unspeakable calamities.'

Orioka scoffed. He couldn't decide if it were hilarious or ridiculous.

On one hand, the first sacrificial goat was discouraged by his looming bankruptcy and died after 'accidentally' falling out of his canoe while fishing. He had it coming when he invested all his money and life savings in a doomed organization. Granted, that company was cursed by Orioka, but didn't he know that putting all his eggs in one basket was foolish?

The other sacrificial goat coveted a woman from a nearby village, and was unfaithful to his devoted wife. As far as Orioka was concerned, no one forced the fool into adultery and he deserved to die in the arms of the said woman. The lusty lady fled and his abandoned carcass was discovered by hotel staff.

Demons finished the work that two, unfortunate souls gave them the legal ground to initiate. Orioka merely helped to put them out of their misery.

Tall, tapering trees surrounded Orioka and shrouded him from the curious eyes of the villagers. It was here, deep in the forest that he chose a spot. His personal space to obtain new leaves and roots for his potions, and the location of the Ancient Rock. Convinced that his recent divination was accurate, he took pride in knowing that the rock had existed for thousands of years and the power within it was his to wield as he pleased.

After digging a three foot hole, Orioka buried the wellbeing of the wealthiest indigene of his village. She fled from the community as a teen, and had the audacity to return to flaunt her wealth during the week. In the name of her mother's burial ceremony, she spent millions and people ate and drank for free during the festivities. A school for underprivileged children was established, the local hospital stocked with new equipment and a bridge built to facilitate movement between the village and neighboring communities.

Considering how carefully she planned the activities, how the hell did she forget to invite Chief Orioka Fabiyi to the party?

His anger flowed from him in waves as he poured fresh soil on the buried health of his latest victim. Dialogue was not necessary, she would get the message when things fell apart for her. If she had a chance to live another life, she would never disrespect her elders.

Rising to his full six foot and five inches height, he dusted the dirt from his hands and adjusted his cap. At first glance, his golden skin, tall and slender frame were a sight to behold. A second look would be sure to notice his intimidating presence or the fire in his pale brown eyes.

Orioka returned to the village with his head held high. Along the way he passed the Farmer's market. People greeted him from a distance with their eyes cast to the ground before scurrying back to their buying and selling.

Good. They were right to know their place.

A group of ladies weaving baskets and making bamboo chairs were the next people he saw. They froze.

"Good after— please forgive me, sir. Good morning, sir," their leader stuttered.

Orioka stopped and turned to look at her. All of them gasped before rendering their own apologies at the same time. He raised one hand and they ceased their chatter. With a polite nod, Orioka continued on his way.

All was well in his village, Sogigun. Indeed, the lines had fallen in his favour. He had money, power, a beautiful and obedient wife and a son. What else could a man ask for? Even at the tender age of three, his son was energetic, intelligent and looked exactly like him.

In twenty years time, Orioka intended to hand over his wealth and wisdom to his son. A well deserved early retirement in a luxurious environment would be excellent for him. Bearing in mind that he wouldn't be the village priest forever, he had made smart business decisions.

Orioka's present hard work was a seed and the harvest would be bountiful.