Round Robin Story Debate Tournament

Asakia rose to his feet. He raised his head and looked into the sky. “Are the clouds dissipating?” he asked the priest. “Yes, you have done well, my child.” The priest said. Asakia breathed in deeply through his nose. His lack of vision increased the strength of his other senses. He heard children playing in the background, yelling and screaming. Loud “thunks” punctuating their cries of glee as they kicked around a ball. The fragrance of wet wheat wafted into Asakia’s nostrils. The smell of rotting meat reeked. Humidity clung to his skin, the heat of the sun and dried mud brought waves of sweat onto Asakia’s neck. He could feel each individual drop slide down his back.“Priest, it is time for the branding.”The priest grabbed Asakia’s forearm and guided him. Asakia felt the rocks beneath his feet, the bumpy terrain of hardened dirt, baked under the sun. Asakia, put his hand out in front of him as he wandered around. He felt like helpless infant, being led everywhere. Asakia was led to his father’s house. The house served as the residence for the chieftain and its family, the chieftain’s symbol of power branded over the doorway. Asakia stumbled forward, blindly reaching around. His hand felt the table. His hand ran over the cool stone tablet. He swung his legs up and lay onto the stone. “Tamir! Azan! Enter! It is time for the branding.” Two pairs of feet shuffled into the room as the priests assistants entered the room. The smell of incense entered with them. “Tie him down.” The priest said. Asakia felt his hands being tied down to the stone tablet, the thick rope chafing his hands. Tamir and Azan then tied his feet down. Asakia heard the priest, shuffling about, stoking a fire with a large iron rod. Smoke exited out the crude chimney, the roaring fire working in conjunction with the sun to create a sweltering heat. For a long time, the priest remained silent. “It is hot enough now, are you ready Asakia?”Asakia’s body tensed. “I am ready.”“Good. You two, stick a piece of cloth in his mouth.” A piece of cloth was roughly shoved into Asakia’s mouth. He bit into it deeply, tasting the blood of his fathers and his father’s father. The priest walked forward and laid a burning metal staff onto Asakia’s forehead. Asakia screamed in pain, tears welled to his eyes. He bit deeply into the cloth. The priest pushed the metal deeper, and deeper. Asakia smelt his flesh burning. He had bitten into his cheek, tasting the salty taste of his own blood, mixing with his ancestors on the cloth. The priest suddenly removed the brand. “There, it is done.” Asakia lay trembling, tears running down the side of his cheek. He felt his bonds being untied. Asakia remained on the table, bawling his eyes out. The pain burnt, it filled Asakia, burning him down to his soul. The priest handed Asakia a cup filled with water. Asakia gratefully gulped down the entire cup in one go, the cooling water soothing his writhing innards.Asakia walked out of his father’s hut. He stood at the doorway and extended his hand. He felt the doorframe until he found the symbol of power. He traced his hands around the skull. His hand reactively went up to his own forehead. He gingerly touched the skull branded into his face.------The adult Asakia lowered his hand from his forehead. He lay back in his chair, sighing. 10 years had passed since the branding. Asakia was now an adult, and a true chieftain of the village. What Asakia lacked in sight, he made up for in wisdom. He taught the village children hunting antelope; he led raids into neighbouring villages. The village productivity tripled exponentially. New huts were being constructed, dirt roads being built, farms producing more and more food. The population boomed, more men, women, and children populated the village than ever. The village was in a golden age. Asakia however was severely troubled. In his vision, his father had told him that in 10 years, their reckoning would be upon them. Asakia remembered what he needed to do; he needed to protect the priest’s staff. But how? Asakia got to his feet. He reached out with his staff like a walking stick, tapping it in front of him to determine his bearings. He stumbled to a back room in the mud house. He laid his staff on the ground and knelt before his father’s monument. Asakia had constructed a miniature temple, right in his house. He had adorned his father’s statue with flowers. He burned incense and lit candles. He lay on the ground, his head bowed to the statue. “Guide me, father.” He said. “Please.”Asakia rose to his feet and walked out of the room. As he approached the doorway, it suddenly hit him. He remembered his vision, the man in armour, the village in flames, and his own death. Then it hit him. Asakia turned and ran out of his house. He ran through the village. 20 steps forward, turn right. 30 steps forward, turn left. 5 steps, turn right. Asakia burst into the priest’s house.“Priest!! Give me your staff, give it to me now!” “Wait, what? Calm down, Asakia, what are you talking about?” The priest came out of his bedroom. He sat down and pulled a chair out for Asakia. Asakia felt the chair and sat down. He quickly recounted his vision and plan to the priest.“Hmmm, this is very troubling news. But I cannot let you desecrate the staff like that. It is the symbol of our gods.”“Don’t you get it?? The gods were the ones that told me to do this!! I was praying to my father, and he revealed the way! The gods of our village were the ones that informed my father of this, the gods want this to happen! Please, we need to do this to save our gods!” Asakia held his breath. Please, just give me the staff he thought to himself. The priest sighed.“Very well, this premonition must be addressed.” The priest stood and grabbed his staff. “I bequeath this to you.” The priest said as he laid the staff into Asakia’s hands. “Thank you so much.” Asakia leapt to his feet and ran out of the house. Turn left, 5 steps. 30 steps forward, turn left, 15 steps, turn right, 5 steps. Asakia burst into the blacksmith’s house. “Weld a spear head onto this staff, now!” ------Asakia stood in front of his village, holding his new spear. He listened to the man gasping for breath, the women rushing around, shouting for medicines. Men knelt next to the wounded man, trying to comfort him.“Chieftain,” he said, coughing. Blood rising to his mouth. Holes peppered the man’s torso. He stretched a hand out to Asakia. “There were,” he coughed. “There were, there were demons.” The man twisted and turned in agony. “Can you describe them, Rarai?” “Their skin, their skin was light.” Rarai drew in a shuddering breath, his body wracked with pain. Asakia could feel death’s presence. “They had, different, weapons. They, destroyed the village.” Rarai drew another shuddering breath. “They had, they had.” His voice dropped off into a whisper. Asakia lent forward. He put his ear in front of his mouth. “They had killed everyone.” Rarai gasped into Asakia’s ear. He drew his final shuddering breath. His chest dropped, his eye staring blankly into the sky. Asakia put his hand on his face, and closed Rarai’s eyes. “Bury Rarai, honor his body. His bravery deserves to be recognized.” Asakia commanded. Women rushed forward and picked up the fallen warrior’s body.“Chieftain, what is happening?” one of his warriors asked.“The beginning of our end.” He replied.