Princes of Psayn
“So powerful His birth, the mountains shout at his awakening.”
What more is Nez’Khamen, but the offspring of a dream. Captured when he was a child, taken to the sub-volcanic savage tribes to north. However, they are wrong about the nature of these tribes, for there are no savage among them. These tribes worship nature, and the very being and subconscious of humanity’s harmonious relationship with the Earth.
Originally the son of the infamous pirate Zario, Nezkhamen “Sioux” was adopted into the Nezchic Mata culture at the age of 2. He was taken as compensation for the white man debt to the tribe.
Nez’Khamen was born into flesh a white child from the south, but he was reborn into the tribe.
From out of the charred trunk, Nez’Khamen arose. Hair latched throughout the coarse inner belly of the lifeless oak. Forbidden the outside air appeared, but hidden his past emotions. Nez’Khamen, born again, into the mystics, in to the species, the group, the family. For him, this religion of Earth seemed to be a new path through the dense forest of life.
After the awakening, when all senses tingled, and memories of past present and future converged into one single, yet complex consciousness; Nez’Khamen continued to breath the rhythms of his society, of the Natura Madres’ goodness.
In his search to become enlightened with the workings of nature’s cells and organisms, he prayed for the Alchemist touch. Working through muck and tentacled root, slimy and green, Nez’ Khamen was touched. Brewing a concoction, he inspired in it the lifemagic inside of him and the earth. He took it to the elders, and to the young, and to the hunters. Splashing down their throats, the consumers of this awmagnificent Water reached out all sickness and selfishness, and it was cast from their bodies. The Tribe became more in line with the destined path.
From this fame, he was named. The Apthocarist Mystic. He joined ranks with the esteemed, and wore the cloth of earth around his waist, and carried the rigid staff. Nez’ Khamen asked for nothing, and in returned earned the faith of his Nez’Chic people. He was no god, but merely the channel from which God could travel in and around, and through the expanses of Home.
With these mystical traits, Khamen developed a special bond with beasts, transforming to their shapes and taking upon their traits.
The Apothacarist attained a new divine touch, that which transversed the narrow understandings of the slaves to time and space. For when the future was shrouded, the needle and the potion was attached to the flesh of the Mystic, and all was told of any importance. However, without the symbiosis with the tribe and land and man, the future again put a light shroud over itself.
Nez’ Khamen, stranger to no creature, host to all. His touch with beasts and man alike, so subtly supernatural. Through his lips, bright rays. A language to all. A barrier to all that shut communication down and into a feeble prejudice. Nez’ Khamen, with the spirits fleeing his mouth and into the ears of the interpreter, has acquired many brothers.