The warm wind blew quietly in the evening air as a young man sat on his balcony, reading a book. The pristine leather armchair, the beautiful electric fireplace whose flames burned brightly and cast a shadow on the polished wooden tiles, as well as the potted flowers scattered along the balcony, told a tale of his lavish lifestyle.
Strangely enough, the young man who sat in the middle of this luxury wore an expression of melancholy on his face. Even though he was surrounded on all sides by opulence, Langa Zulu's loneliness reverberated with as much power as his footsteps when he stood up and walked across the wooden tiles.
He placed the book, ‘Beauty and Deception: The Tale of MaMlambo, by Sibusiso Zulu’ on the table. The story didn't change, no matter how many times he read it. It always reminded him that the material belongings he owned and the trophies neatly decorating his home from behind the glass panel in the sitting room, did nothing to breathe light into his lifeless eyes.
Walking back into his kitchen, Langa debated whether he should open the bottle of wine while he waited, or be patient until his nephew arrived. He looked at the message that his sister had sent him earlier today, where she expressed her disappointment and anger at her son being released without her knowledge, and he was torn on what to do. Being only two years apart in age with his nephew, Neo, he had never really been an authority figure for him, especially now that they were adults.
At least Neo had the decency to go and visit Khaya, his little sister, at her university first, as soon as he was released. If he had not done that, Langa would have been the only one in the family who knew about his release.
A loud knock broke him out of his meandering thoughts and he quickly opened the wooden door.
“Sawubona, malume!” Neo said with a broad grin, arms wide open as he hugged Langa, taking him by surprise.
Langa had no idea what he had expected him to look like, given everything that had happened, but his nephew looked pretty normal in his regular jeans and t-shirt, a plastic bag in his hand. He might have bulked up a bit more than before, but otherwise, he was unchanged despite the two of them only meeting across the glass for the past few years.
“Hey, look at you, after causing so much trouble, what are you so happy about?” Langa said with a small smile as he let him in.
“I’m happy to see you of course! I knew you’d only have wine, so I brought us beer,” he said, making himself at home as he placed his plastic bag on the table.
“Thanks,” Langa said. He watched Neo as he sat down on the sofa, seemingly quite relaxed.
"This neighbourhood is great, and your new place is sick. Why do you have so much fancy shit, though? You never cared for that stuff," Neo asked him, looking around the room.
Before Neo got arrested, he and Langa stayed in the family home with Neo's parents and Khaya. It felt like such a long time ago for Langa. He watched as Neo looked around his flat, admiring the decor. He supposed that it was a bit fancy, the fully equipped home gym, the leather sofas in the sitting room, the widescreen television, the latest gaming console, and the expensive art decorating the walls.
Most of the art was of mythical and ancient god-like creatures that Langa had commissioned for his flat. Anyone looking at this flat would think that it belonged to some obnoxious rich young athlete with too much money in his hands. Only those who knew Langa would see that the decor was nothing more than a plea from a cursed young man to the ancient mythical creatures that his father had loved to tell him about, for salvation from his generational curse.
Langa cleared his throat, pushing the depressing thoughts to the recesses of his mind. "People change."
Neo shook his head at him, as if he did not believe what Langa had just told him. "Whatever you say, malume. I still can't believe that Dad kicked you out of the family home. I mean, you bought that house for Mum."
Now that was one more thing that Langa was not interested in talking about. There were no explicit words from his brother-in-law telling him to leave the house at that time, but Langa knew when he was not wanted. As a child, he'd had no choice but to tolerate and take it all, because his sister was the only person he had left in the world. As an adult though, he would not stand for his brother-in-law's passive-aggressive remarks, no matter how much he loved his sister and wanted to stay with her.
"Bhuti Kgosi didn't kick me out, I left on my own," he said brushing it off as if the memories of the day he left home did not still haunt him. “The pizza got here a few minutes before you did, do you want some?”
Neo piped up in excitement, perhaps sensing that Langa had no desire to talk about this matter, and focused on the food. “Yes, please, I haven’t had pizza in almost six years. I need it. Pranav is gonna be so jealous, he loves pizza, and I don't think he's had some yet.”
Langa paused, the name stirring up disdain inside of him. "Pranav's out?"
"Yeah, he got out this morning." As soon as Langa placed the box in front of him, Neo wolfed down the pizza and groaned contentedly. “This is the best. You even got my favourite, malume, even though you hate pineapple. Thank you. Man, I am stuffed, I wish they had given us this kind of food on the inside.”
“I think that would defeat the whole purpose of prison,” Langa smiled, putting away thoughts of Neo and Pranav getting back together. It was Neo's life, no matter how much he wanted to tell him to stay away from that man. Pranav was the worst kind of user, he was too dangerous to allow him to stay with Neo.
“Hmph, what purpose? They are dumb enough to let out murderers after only six years in prison. I should be the poster boy for all young black men looking to get away with murder,” Neo said with a snort.
At this, Langa raised his eyebrows. “Haibo, Neo. You’re not a murderer, it was an accident,” he said sharply. Granted, Neo had brought a knife to a fistfight in the first place, but he had only been nineteen years old at the time, and was playing at being a gangster, not intending to kill anyone. Really, Langa was convinced that it was all Pranav's fault, after all, he was the reason why Neo had turned to crime. Maybe he was a bit biased because he loved his nephew, but he firmly believed this.
“Whatever you say, malume. Does Mum know I’m out?” he asked, sitting back on the sofa, and opening a can of beer.
Langa nodded, “Yeah. Khaya told her, and she told all of us. They didn't know that I already knew that you were being released last week. You need to call your mother and your father. They are both really worried about you, and I don't want any more trouble with your father.”
Langa was wondering what Neo’s plans were. Was he going to turn a new leaf, or go back to Pranav and his gang? Would he choose to listen to his parents this time, and make better choices? This young man was very special to his sister, the first child that she ever had, and she had named him Neoentle, which in SeSotho meant a beautiful gift. Langa knew that his sister would want him to advise Neo to do better and abstain from violence, but he also knew very well how damaging people’s expectations could be. He was unsure of how much prison had changed his nephew, but no matter what, he would always be on his side.
“What can I do? I’m not smart like my dad, I’m not a hard worker like Mum, and I’m not talented like you,” Neo said, taking a swig of his beer. “Ever since I was a kid, all I knew how to do was pick fights and beat people up.”
“Hey, you picked 80% of those fights to protect me. Don’t forget that,” Langa reminded him giving him a weak punch on the arm.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Conversations about the past were always hard, and Langa sometimes wondered how his life would have turned out if Neo had been around recently. His sister had raised the two of them as if they were brothers, and they were each other’s best friends growing up, despite being so different. Even though Langa was older, Neo had always been the one protecting him from all kinds of bullies, therefore he could not help but wonder if, in the past few years, Neo would have been able to protect him from himself. If Neo had been here, would he have wasted his talents as much as he did? Was that just Langa's hubris talking?
Neo laughed, “You’re right, malume. Back then I only thought with my fists, and you were so scrawny that all you could do was run.” He was on his third can of beer now.
“I guess not much has changed since then, huh?” Langa said with a smile as he poured himself a glass of wine. "Well, I'm not scrawny anymore though."
“No, you’re not,” Neo agreed, his ring glinting in the light as he put down the can of beer. The ring was in the shape of a snake coiled around his finger.
It was the symbol of Pranav’s gang, the Jahreela Saamp.
Langa’s hand tightened around the stem of his glass. This had better not mean what he thought it meant. “Why the hell are you still wearing that ring, Neo?”
Neo blinked and looked down at the ring on his finger. His eyes met Langa's own, challenging and unfazed. “Why do you think?”
Was he being serious? Would he really go back to that life after how much pain it had caused this family? “Neo, don’t-“
”Just stop, malume. You’re not my father, I don’t listen to him, so why the hell would I listen to you?” Neo warned him. “Don’t worry, I won’t go back to prison. You have my word on that."
Langa didn’t get it. Why would he waste his life like this for a man who used him and then abandoned him? Did Neo not want more out of his life? But just as soon as Langa thought this, he shook his head. He was in no position to judge Neo, especially when it came to decisions about how to live his life.
They drank in silence for a bit, and Neo finished the pizza. He then looked up at Langa, debating whether to say what he wanted or not. His gaze turned to the glass case displaying all of Langa's trophies. “I saw your last race. You were in second place again, huh? If you had made first place, you could have made it to the Olympics.”
Langa breathed, wondering if they had televisions in prison. “Yeah, I almost did it. Your father kindly reminded me of that loss very recently. If only I could have been faster, I would have been able to represent South Africa in the Olympics. My damned curse finally got to me too. Eish, you know what they say, there is nothing more common than unsuccessful men with talent.”
“Screw that! I’m not stupid, malume,” Neo snapped. “How long are you gonna do this?”
As Langa expected, Neo knew him better than anyone else. He alone could tell the real reason why Langa kept losing his races. He could lie to him like he did to everyone else, his sister, his niece, his brother-in-law, his coach, his teammates and even the Minister of Sports himself, but he chose not to. It was tedious to keep up the facade of a former genius athlete struggling to keep up with his peers as he entered his late twenties.
He twirled the wine glass absentmindedly, “I’m going to keep doing this until I stop being bored on the track, or when I find the motivation to win.”
"Seriously? You're still jaded because you think that no one in this country can be a challenge to you? Do you seriously think you're better than everybody else?"
Langa shrugged again, "I don't expect you to understand." It wasn't like Langa himself understood. He'd told himself for a long time, that he held back to stave off his curse, since the more his talents blossomed, the more those around him suffered because of him.
His greatest achievement to date was a silver medal in the men’s 100 metre race at the Olympics. Lately, however, he was starting to wonder if that was the only reason why he did not do his best. Perhaps more than boredom, he was waiting for a challenge, something to stimulate him from his boring monotonous life. Perhaps he just wanted someone faster than him, someone to ignite the fire inside of him, someone to chase.
“Okay well, power to you, I guess,” Neo shook his head and checked his phone. “I get that you’re, you know, doing you and all that, but Khaya is waiting for you to be number one again. I mean, she has all these posters of you in her dorm room. It would break her heart if you never got back to the top. She's your biggest fan.”
”Haibo, Neo,” Langa said sharply. “I’m done living up to other people’s expectations. I love Khaya, she’s my favourite person in the whole world, but she’s just gonna have to wait. I'm not going back to running in order to please other people, it's not good for me,” he paused. “Speaking of expectations, she and your parents want you to go clean, to leave behind your life of crime. Will you do that?”
Neo flashed him a grin. “Come on, Langa… I got out on good behaviour. You don’t trust me?”
That was not an answer. Langa knew that this might mean Neo was not done with that life yet. He needed to keep an eye on him, otherwise he’d just end up making his sister and precious niece cry again. “If you don't have everything figured out yet, I have a spare room. You can stay here until you get back on your feet.”
“That’s nice of you, but I’m good. I gotta go. Pranav just hit me up, he’s found us a good hunting spot for tonight,” Neo said standing up, after looking at his phone.
“Pranav again? Do I want to know what you’re hunting?”
Neo grinned again “Hot men, of course. Wanna come?”
“No thanks,” Langa said dismissively. “When you’re done having fun, like I said, I have an empty room, and we can talk about your future plans.”
Neo stood up, a smile still on his lips. “As if I’ll ever be done having fun.”
“Don’t forget to call your Mum!” Langa called after him as he left.
After Neo left, Langa took his bottle of wine to the balcony and sat down. He was honestly relieved that his nephew had not changed all that much, after all, prison could have a terrible effect on people. As he sat there, he thought about what Neo said. Indeed, how long would he hold himself back? He knew that others would find him pretentious, after all, he was privileged to be born with an exceptional talent for athletics. Ha, Langa chuckled, a privileged black man in South Africa, what a funny concept. Still, because he could run fast, jump high and throw far, he and his poor sister had been able to leave their dilapidated home in rural Eshowe KZN, and make a new life in the big city of gold, Johannesburg.
His talent was both a blessing and a curse, and he had become so good that competition bored him, he no longer enjoyed it. All he liked to do was run. No destination, just running.
CONGRATULATIONS, INHABITANTS OF EARTH X32175! YOUR WORLD HAS BEEN SELECTED TO BE THE 36TH FLOOR OF THE DEIWOS TOWER!
Langa blinked as a bunch of words appeared in front of his eyes. They seemed to be suspended in the air in front of him on a clear screen. The lights outside had gone dark, and the world went quiet. At first, Langa thought that it was loadshedding, but in the area of Pretoria that he lived in, they rarely got loadshedding.
“What the hell? I haven’t even finished one bottle of wine and I’m already this drunk?” he mumbled trying to touch the words and failing as his hand simply passed through them.
CORRUPTION OVERWHELMS YOUR WORLD, AND A VOID ERUPTION IS IMMINENT! DUNGEONS, GATES, MAESTRILS AND SAFE ZONES WILL BEGIN APPEARING IN 120 SECONDS!
The dark sky turned red as soon as that message appeared, and the 120 started counting down in that message. Okay, this was weird, Langa stood up, as he heard loud noises from his neighbours. Something strange was definitely going on here and he was not drunk. His cellphone was ringing, but just before he answered it, another screen appeared in front of him, this one was blue.
[Please choose a character:
Filled Slots/Total Slots:
PLAYER CHARACTERS:
5/1 573 128 296
NON-PLAYER CHARACTERS:
0/6 292 513 184
Total Characters of EARTH X32175:
7 865 641 480]
PCs and NPCs? Weren't those the terms that were used in games to differentiate between players and natives? Langa had no idea what was going on, but the timer was now down to 57 seconds, and the number of PCs was increasing rapidly and it was already past a million. He had a feeling that if he did not choose right now, something bad would happen.
“How do I know what to choose?” he cursed, not expecting a response. However, a footnote appeared at the bottom of the screen in front of him.
[Player characters can climb the Tower and have access to all the Floors that they have cleared.
Non-Player Characters are confined to their home world, and cannot climb the Tower except in very special circumstances or unless a player position becomes vacant.]
The timer was down to 20 seconds by now, and Langa knew he had to choose now. It did not matter if this was a game, if it was real or if he was drunk, he would rather have freedom in how he lived than be confined. His heart raced in anticipation. Was this it? What he had been looking for? Would this be the stimulation that he required to bring colour into his monochrome world? He wanted to see if he could live his life fiercely, despite his curse, so he said, “Player.”
[Player, The Deiwos Clan welcomes you to the Deiwos Tower.
You are on the 36th Floor.
Floors cleared: 0/101
You are not authorised to be on the 36th Floor.
Please wait while the Floor Overlord teleports you to a tutorial world.]
Langa had no idea what was going on, and the next moment, all he felt was a burning pain all over his body, and he struggled to remain standing until he was whisked into nothingness.