The Kingdom of Maroo — a land of vast beauty and abundance.
Blessed with rich soil, endless vegetation and rivers like living silver, Maroo was the largest continent on the world, holding nearly eighty percent of all known resources. Yet, in the beginning, Maroo was nothing but barren earth — dry, cracked, and lifeless.
The first inhabitants, hungry and exhausted from decades of struggle, turned their eyes to the heavens and prayed. Their voices rose for days, and in answer came three goddesses — radiant beyond mortal imagination.
Each goddess bore brown skin like rich earth, but their garments and auras were distinct:
Sekhmet, Goddess of Fire — flame danced around her orange gown, heat warping the very air.
Yemaya, Goddess of the Moon — wrapped in royal blue silk, water flowed across her form like a living river.
Oya, Mother of Nature — vines curled around her green dress, flowers blooming at her feet with every step.
It is said their voices shook the land itself:
> "REJOICE, O FAITHFUL!"
> "WE ARE THE SEED OF THE ETERNAL — BEARERS OF LIFE, GUARDIANS OF CREATION!"
A divine aura washed over the people; many fell to their knees, overwhelmed by power.
> "YOU HAVE CALLED FOR AID IN TRUE FAITH, AND SO WE COME TO BLESS YOU."
"LET THE COVENANT BETWEEN HEAVEN AND MAROO BE ETCHED IN TIME.
REMAIN PURE. REMAIN TRUE. NEVER CORRUPT YOUR SOULS."
With a blinding strike of light, the goddesses vanished.
From the very earth where they stood, life burst forth — roots spiralled, soil softened, and within a week the entire land transformed. Forests rose from dust, rivers ran clear as glass, and mountains glimmered with hidden jewels. Maroo had become paradise.
To honour the divine covenant, the first people built three pyramids, symbols of eternal gratitude, devotion, and memory of the goddesses who saved them.
---
A Thousand Years Later — Fifty Years Before Present
Maroo flourished beyond imagination. No longer a land of huts but one of ships, cities and towering architecture.
Twenty million people lived across thirty-six nations — all prosperous, united, and covered by the favour of the heavens.
In the coastal country of Odai, we meet Akem Owari, eight years old, skinny but determined, standing beside the shining turquoise sea.
"I DID IT — YES!"
Akem screams, pulling a massive fish from the waves — his first successful catch after countless failed attempts.
His older brother Hakeem, fifteen, grins proudly.
"Nice work, little bro."
Excited beyond control, Akem urges to run home. Hakeem packs the fish into their wooden carrier and slings an arm around his brother's shoulder — a gesture filled with love and pride. Together they make the short walk back to their village — lively, bright, woven with music and ocean
Their mother, Yewende Owari, sits outside knitting with Akem's sisters — Nairobi (12) and Afumi (10).
She is warm and stunningly beautiful, with braids that gleam in the sun and a smile that could calm storms.
"MUM! I DID IT!"
Akem yells, practically vibrating.
Yewende's eyes soften.
"My son — you finally caught a fish?"
Akem opens the basket proudly.
"And it's huge!"
She cups his face lovingly.
"You never gave up — that is a gift far greater than skill."
Akem looks around.
"Is father home? I want him to see!"
"No, he's hunting with the village elders," she says gently.
Disappointment flickers in the boy's eyes.
His sisters tease — he pulls faces back — Yewende cuts in with calm authority.
"Akem, store the fish for dinner tomorrow."
He hurries inside.
The girls continue knitting until Afumi quietly asks,
"Why doesn't Akem help us?"
Nairobi shrugs. "He's just not good at it."
Yewende shakes her head firmly.
"Your brother is slower, yes — but skill grows with time.
Yemaya herself whispered to us yesterday: the coming winter will be harsh.
Your brother may not have your finesse, nor your father's strength, nor Hakeem's talent…**
but he carries something much greater — something yet unseen."
The sisters fall silent.
Hakeem lingers, thoughtful.
"You really believe that?"
Yewende smiles — not with certainty, but with destiny.
"I do not just believe it. I feel it. Akem will be the child of prophecy."
Hakeem laughs — not unkindly.
"Our Akem? The chosen one from the legends a thousand years old?"
He walks inside still chuckling, while Yewende remains under the fading sky — smiling softly at a future only she seems to glimpse.
The village quiets as night falls.
Then — footsteps, heavy but familiar.
Her husband arrives — Shaka Owari, the strongest among the elders, carrying a massive boar across his shoulder.
Yewende leaps up "My King."
Shaka placed the boar down and exhaled with quiet pride.
He kisses her deeply. "My Queen."
Yewende smiled, eyes admiring the boar slung across his shoulder.
"I see your hunting trip was successful."
"Yes — each of us returned with one. A good day for the village."
Then his expression shifted, thoughtful rather than triumphant.
"But… I find myself questioning hunting lately."
There was honesty in his voice — heavier than the boar itself.
Yewende raised an eyebrow gently, intrigued.
"Questioning it? How so?"
Shaka wiped sweat from his brow and leaned on his spear.
"There are people in Maroo now who live without meat. Entire families. They grow strong through grains, fruit, fish… I wonder if we could do the same."
Her eyes softened — surprised, but not dismissive.
She touched his arm, fingers tracing muscle earned through years of survival.
"But if you stop eating meat, won't you lose these?"
She teased lightly, squeezing his bicep.
A warm chuckle rumbled from him as he pulled her closer.
"Muscle comes from work, not just meat. If my body weakens… then perhaps it is the gods telling me it's time for change."
Yewende rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady power of his heartbeat.
Inside, their four children rush him with laughter and chaos.
Shaka lifts each child into a hug, overflowing with pride and love. When Akem shows the fish, Shaka beams.
"Your first catch — this size?"
He places a firm hand on his son's shoulder.
"I am proud beyond words."
Akem bites his lip, fighting emotion — praise was rare for him.
Shaka kneels.
"Tomorrow — you and I will fish together."
Akem glows brighter than the moon.
---
Morning
After breakfast and chores, father and son make for the shore. Akem trembles slightly.
"What if I catch nothing? What if I fail?"
Shaka chuckles softly.
"My son — you have never disappointed me. Just breathe. Let the ocean speak to you."
And he does.
Akem catches ten fish — two larger than yesterday's. His laughter carries across the waves.
Then
A horn.
Long. Deep. Unlike anything Maroo had ever known.
Winds rise. Waves thrash.
A massive steel ship, foreign and monstrous, fights its way through the sea towards Maroo.
The peace of a thousand years begins to tremble.