"Dar, we need you to come home for the weekend."
The words struck Dar deep inside his core, but only reflected in a gruff scowl that frightened the stucco wall into fearing for its continued un-broken face.
"Why? What's so important that ya need me down there now? It's a five hour train ride with all the connectin' rails."
"It's about your grandad." Dar froze. He knew exactly why they wanted him back. It was something to do with the Angavu. While Dar's commune with the Spirits was secret from most of the family, his dad's side of the family knew about it. Specifically his dad and his uncles, sons of the previous Angavu before Dar. They never told him about it, or admitted that they knew about the Spirits, but the Spirits themselves told him. They knew. The spirits knew the sons of Irvin Brown, the last Angavu, and had spoken to them. Uncle Scottie let on once that he knew about the Spirits, but that was all. An aside comment asking how Dar was handling his "roots". But that wasn't enough. It wasn't anything that could tell him about what the hell the Angavu was, and what it was supposed to be. An old hurt rose up inside him, an anger and sadness aimed towards the family that kept a secret of who he was from him, even when he came face to face with the deadly and frightening truth.
For a long while, Dar stared at the wall, considered punching it instead of yelling at his father, which wouldn't have helped anyone because his mother would hear of it and he'd get it worse than he'd ever be able to give it within five years. He didn't want to go. He didn't want to see them, to listen to them as they hid behind the idea that he was still ignorant to his identity.
If they wish to talk to you about the Kongwe Angavu, then perhaps you should go.
Indeed. They would be able to tell you far more about being the Angavu than we could, of course.
The hissing chuckle of the androgenous Janja only increased the anger Dar felt.
Stupid son of a...mocking me in my own head...
"Dar?"
"Yeah dad...I'll be there." Dar mumbled, hollowly. The response surprised him at first. He wasn't expecting to say yes, but something prodded his body to do so.
"Alright, I'll email you the tickets. I'll see you soon Dar."
"Yeah, alright." Dar mumbled, wanting to punch the wall again and hung up. Fighting the urge to throw the cell phone at the wall, he compromised by tossing the phone lightly on the bed and storming out the door, banging into Thorn who wasn't watching while he walked down the hallway of the quad. Dar didn't even look back as the much smaller, winged boy was spun about from the force. Slamming the door open, Dar jumped into the air, letting a cold, slithering sensation burst through his veins as his body contorted and twisted in the air, turning into a skeletal snake covered in a transparent, ameoboic skin that shifted and fluctuated so much that it didn't hold any sort of form to allow it to be called anything remotly serpentine to match the skeleton. Clad in the form of the Avatar of Janja the Cunning, the Angavu took to the skies, the skin twisting, and reaching forward in sinewy tentacles as if to grab the very fabric of the sky in order to pull it forward. Leaving the school grounds, the Angavu soared over the skies of Paragon until he found himself in the King's Row section. The run down ghetto of the city was still filled with trash and gang members. Skulls hung out on street corners, or skulked next to buildings, ready to spraypaint tags on walls, or snatching and grabbing from poor individuals who were trying to walk home. Flashes of his own run in with a gang just a few years ago blitzed through his mind as another flash of anger rolled over his heart. Descending in a lazy arc, the Angavu slithered in front of a pair of Skulls, already trying to mug a young man.
"Stop shaking you punk! Get your walle-What the HELL is that?!" A skull yelled from beneath his mask, looking up with widened eyes at the frightening form of Janja's Avatar.
"Shoot it!" The other cried, frantically, forgetting their mugging victim and turning his revolver towards the Angavu. The skeletal jaws of the Webweaver's Avatar opened, spewing two lances of bright silvery energy directly at both of the Skull's hands. The guns flew out of their hands, causing them to double over in pain, clutching burnt flesh from where the energy seared their skin.
"Run you assholes. Before I really get mad." Dar's watery voice, amplified by the power of Janja, sneered. The thugs ran faster than Dar expected. The mugging victim shook, hidden behind a trash can, looking towards Dar with such fear that it actually frightened Dar.
"Monster! Help! A hero! I need a hero! A monster!" He cried, running down the alleyway behind him, away from Dar. The snake-like avatar floated in the air, watching him leave. The cold sensation crawled out of his blood, like placing frozen hands in hot water, warmth flooded up his limbs, back to his core as the Avatar of Janja bled back into that of Darweshi Brown. Dar's eyes kept looking back towards the alleyway, emotions tightly under wraps beneath the mask that was his face.
"A monster..." Dar whispered. Part of him believed it. The part of him that remembered how he treated people. Tossed them aside, or physically hurt them. Images of Jess, Beth and Luke hung in his head, overshadowed by the frightening visage of Ghadhabu. The other part told him that it was a lie. Billi's face and voice prominent in that wave of mental images. He could hear her voice, with her southern drawl that made him laugh a little bit inside each time he heard it, saying in his head that he wasn't a monster. How could she love a monster?
Monsters always love other monsters. I should know.
Dar tried to surpress a shudder.
He needed to see Billi.
Standing in front of the front door to his house, Dar was reminded of the last time he was here...for Thanksgiving Dinner so many months ago. He took a shuddering breath and steeled his resolve. He was going to just open the door, walk in like the long awaited son, and calmly ask his father and uncles just what they knew about the Angavu. 
Dar sailed up the rocky incline, bursting into the harsh sunlight above. Recoiling from the flash, he shielded his eyes and slowly adjusted to the surroundings. About him was tall, golden grass, stretching out in infinite distance, spotted here and there by tall, flat trees. Mountains speckled the distance, along with one larger mountain far to the north. It was insanely tall, and flattened at the top, like a plateau, yet capped with deep white snow. It was a mountain he had seen before, but only in textbooks and dreams. Animal calls filled the sky as long, graceful birds took flight, soaring over hulking bovine creatures with shaggy manes and long horns. Impossibly tall animals so disproportionate that it seemed illogical picked leaves off the sparse trees, wiping them clean of foliage.
"Until nightfall." Dar cursed. By the looks of things, that'd still be a few hours from now. Minutes bled into hours, and as the hours dragged on, the sun slowly began to set over the horizon, hidden partially behind low mountains. Through their hike, Dar had been witness to hordes of animals he had only seen in zoos. Packs of zebra, with their hooting neighs trotted past him, close enough to toss a stick at if he chose, intent on reaching their own far off destination. Two bull rhinos clashed off in the distance, charging at one another, trying to gore each other with wickedly sharp horns. Shivers ran down Dar's spine as he saw the similarities between the beasts and Ghadhabu himself. The thought drew painful memories back to the surface of his thought. Two herds of gazelle leaped and grazed near the horizon. While the herd feasted, one of them had its head up, staring intently at the two men walking through the savannah, its eyes nearly unblinking and dark, almost piercing Dar's skin and seeing the thing that he was underneath. The ornate black markings on its white and tan face around the eyes reminded him of Billi. The thought gave him a little extra strength to continue moving forward. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it not only for his own state of mind, but for Billi's safety as well. 
Shaking the sleep and post dream jitters out of his body, Dar made his way out of the hut, staring at the orange sun, just over the horizon as it steadily rose to the sky. Barely the start of the next day and it was already hot as hell. Flicking his T-shirt off, Dar hoped that it wouldn't get too much hotter than it already was. He had gotten used to the colder temperatures of the states north of the Mason-Dixon. Yet, he did have to sit back and admire the beauty of the world about him. This was Africa. His ancestral home. His heritage. His legacy. The very power which courses through him, the pain of the four Spirits within...they come from this land. This is where he came from. This is where so many of his people desire to go.