12th Century Africa…
A “starfall” darted fiercely across the morning sky, its swift motion trailblazing silently -- earthward.
On a fertile wilderness, mother and daughter, engrossed in farm-works, were totally oblivious of the darting spear of light that fell from the sky.
Suddenly, a great quake struck the land!
Ka-bloom-rack-ssh-kqurackk!
Though the impact was from a great distance, its effect on the two was like doomsday!
The earth shook with massive vehemence, rupturing into shattered fragments so great as to tumble into hills and valleys, the point of impact suffering a gargantuan crater-displacement!
Multiple boulders flung recklessly through the air. Scared-stiff mother and daughter squatted helplessly on the ground, praying to Ala, Goddess of Land, to spare their poor lives. A landing rock narrowly missed them as daughter, seeing its fall on time, shoved her mother off the way, ducking as well. However, another rock-fall flung toward her: there was no escaping its path! She was too petrified to dodge the sizable flying rock zeroing in on her --
Zap-p-p!
The flying rock vaporized into thin air as a bolt of lightning suddenly struck it from out of the blue. Whoever or whatever that saved the girl’s life, she was silently grateful.
As the rock-falls receded, the dust and smoke clearing, she began to see an image of a boy, about sixteen, walking exhaustedly toward her, clad in a white shredded out-of-this-world toga, with a diamond-ornamented headband strapped across his forehead, his physique moderately built and athletic -- himself strikingly handsome.
His very presence -- mysterious it may seem -- gave her the feeling of butterflies.
Where in Eke’s creation did he come from? She mused, enigmatized.
He collapsed onto her arms, his striking russet eyes closing in their famished state. Holding him firmly, she held her standing balance; her mother manually medically examining the spent, handsome boy.
“He may yet live,” the mother said.
“Where did you come from?” the girl asked the strange boy.
Without opening his mouth or his eyes, the boy lethargically pointed toward the direction of the “starfall” impact.
Mother and daughter stared in grave shock at him: the chest of his shredded smoke-stained toga bearing an insignia of a circled white ram’s head with the circle breaking in half into a thunder-bolt symbol, thus:
His chocolate-hued skin, though covered in soot, was miraculously un-charred as mother and daughter stared amazingly at the vast wilderness from whence the “star” fell: the wilderness in question presently in a gravely devastated and displaced state of hills and valleys, with patches of fire burning here and there, consuming uprooted trees and debris. (If this were to be a modern day, the devastated wilderness would have been likened to a nuclear-bombarded scene.)
“That’s impossible!” the girl’s mother gasped in utter disbelieve. “Nobody could survive such a...” she could not quite fathom the word to finish her sentence for such an incredible impact.
“I d-did…” the boy’s voice trailed off in a stammering slur, and he passed into oblivion…