2.
Aphiwe woke up, choking.
There were multiple tails squeezing her neck. Her elbow pressed against her neck, her wrist stuck under her goggles and a belt tied around her neck. It was enough to keep her head on her shoulders. But not breath. Her eyes darted up and down, there was dense wood surrounding her, not forest but pure uncut natural wood. The stem of a trunk! It was old, parts of it petrified. She'd never seen a tree so cavernous, skeletons hung in their hundreds, a butcher's dream. Next to her was her Jokai, upside down and missing a head. In the distance a skeleton dropped. Unable to hold its weight it crumbled where bone and rock spread like gravel. Black blood dripped onto a wooden bowl. Aphiwe squirmed. The creature let go, moving to the bigger Jokai, caressing it before lapping up blood and whining loudly, on the bone streaked where tears had cleared dirt.
Aphiwe fought, losing to the vines holding her. She should have been able to snap free, but her every muscle fought and what wasn't fighting was shutting down. The pressure loosened, letting her take deep breathes.
The Jokai hadn't noticed, she held her breath swinging, flinging her head back and forth. It was too much activity, her knees bobbed, purple filled her world, the vine held until the creature jumped on top of her, going for her neck. She bounced and pulled, making sure she was already dropping the second it landed.
The vine snapped.
They dropped, her landing on top of it.
She couldn't break free, but her shoulders were enough to pin it. She had her head and it'd have to do. Purple pounded her face and her face pounded it. Its claws and fangs bounced off her skin, then suddenly it fell still with her forehead still beating on it. Purple tears rolling down her eyes mixing with black blood until it blinded her, the skull caving around her. She rolled free, her body rebelling by the second. The rock in her mouth long crushed between her teeth.
"Mama!" She cried, rolling further away, deep in the purple fog as she screamed. "Mama!"
The tree shuddered and a Jokai, bigger than any she could ever imagine stepped in front of her. Aphiwe shut up, beyond frozen, awed.
It roared, rushing her.
A whistle erupted followed quick by dozens of thuds. The massive creature froze. Its eyes bobbed, jaw slack. It, on all fours, shrunk bunching into a ball, one many times bigger than Aphiwe. It shivered and a whine started only to be replaced by a slow, low rumbling growl that grabbed at Aphiwe's lungs and squeezed, vibrating the whole time. It grew, thinner but far larger as though unfolding. The tails, all endlessly long, grew purpose, each collecting goods. The two that impaled the dead Jokai were the focus and, in a flash, it climbed to an endless ceiling and disappeared.
"Mama!" Aphiwe cried.
"Aphi! Aphi!"
"Thato! Calm down." Yelled a different but familiar voice.
"Babalwa just blow your way in!" Thato yelled.
"We can't do that! All we can do is try find a way in."
"Aphi we're coming!"
Aphiwe's muscles were losing the fight, she whistled in bursts, her lungs aching as more purple dribbled from her lips. A familiar bark caught her ears.
Her eyes shut against her will. Her breath grew shallow, what desperation had pushed her was so long gone, a dream.
=========================
Two Great Houses want to step inside her home. But for Thato, the danger isn't politics—it's her daughter's heartbeat pounding itself to pieces.
"I'm not blaming your child! I'm blaming myself… It was my name she called out. I wasn't even the first person she saw when she woke up."
Aphiwe wakes to masks, monsters, and the terrifying blur between Jokai and friend. Her scream shakes the walls, her cry for "Mama" echoes through the God Tree, and her family must decide: protect her at all costs, or open their doors to powers that could reshape their world.
This is a story of belonging and betrayal, of children caught in the shadows of houses too great to ignore.
📖 Step into the God Tree, where family love collides with noble ambition—and every choice threatens to tear the bark wide open.