01/06/2026
THE JOURNEY INLAND - An Imaginative Tale
The fire had now burned low.
What, mere moments before, had been a great circle of voices, questions, songs, and revelations had now slowly dissolved into the softer sounds of the virgin jungle night. Children slept against their mothers in comfort. Hunters rested beside spears that leaned into the Earth. The celebratory and rhythmic drums had fallen silent, leaving only the chorus and symphony of Guiana’s living darkness....the insects, the distant waters, the whispering canopy overhead.
The Stars above seemed impossibly clear, as Abu's companions looked on in awe and wonder.
Abu Bukhari himself remained awake, retreating to his inner most thoughts, in search of inspiration that would Guide his Destiny.
He sat near the dwindling embers alongside his companions, while the Elders of the Wara’Ro, Lokono, Shibaio, and Surinen spoke quietly among themselves. The seated stranger, whose appearance had stirred such unease earlier, had withdrawn into silence, watching the fire as though searching it for memory.
Then the Surinen Chief rose once more.
“At first light,” he said, “the decision has been made to journey further inland.”
The remaining of those gathered, still awake, turned toward him attentively....
“There is a place you must See before your Path can continue.”
The Lokono elder nodded slowly in approval.
“An outpost,” he explained, “though it is more than that. A place where the Ruling Elites gathered their authorities to govern over the surrounding territories.”
Abu Bukhari listened intently.
“It is there,” the Elder continued, “that the tribes are forced to bring Tribute.”
“Tribute?” one of Abu’s companions asked....
The Elder pointed toward baskets that had been stacked beneath woven coverings nearby.
“Food. Salt. Rare woods. Metals from the Rivers. Stones taken from deep within the Earth.”
Gold. Greenstone. Obsidian. Crystal.
“These are demanded to be offered as taxes,” the Shibaio elder said, his voice carrying quiet disapproval, “and as payment to the gods worshipped by the Ruling Elites and their Houses.”
At the mention of gods, Abu Bukhari’s eyes narrowed, perceiving a grave injustice that was taking place, he was now more attentive than ever before.
The Wara’Ro elder stirred and rekindled the fire with a stick before speaking.
“These gods are not new gods,” he said. “Their names are Ancient, carrieed forward by the ignorance of those devotedto their worship. Older than all the Kingdoms that now exist. Older than many of the Tribes themselves. Gods of the First Creation.”
He looked upward through the trees.
“They have been worshipped since time immemorial, from the very beginning of Civilization.”
A silence followed.
“....but many generations ago,” the elder continued, “their worship became disputed by the Father of Us Three. The Father of those carried in the Ark.”
“How so?” Abu Bukhari asked.
The Surinen chief answered.
“Some believed the old gods were only servants of the Creator and should never be worshipped directly. Others claimed the gods themselves ruled over the Heavens and Earth, who would eventually usurp power for themselves.”
The Lokono elder’s expression darkened, as though enraged by the thought of such a possibility....
“That disagreement became the wedge and division that caused the Creator God to Destroy former Peoples and their Nations.”
Families were split. Tribes were fractured. Entire peoples separated from one another because of this Truth....
“Some ignorantly followed the old rites,” he said. “Blood and Sacrificial offerings. Temple Vows and Clergy. Even Celestial ceremonies that had been proven to be misguided.”
“...and others?” Abu asked quietly.
The elder looked directly at him.
“Others held to the older, Ture path set forth by our Father. The devotion to the Unseen Creator, He who is above all things.”
The fire cracked sharply as though to signal and signify the intensity of this Truth.
“That dispute,” the Shibaio elder said, “never ended.”
One by one, the Elders and their respective Peoples withdrew for the Night. At first light, they would all return to their daily duties that had been incumbent upon them. Soon only Abu Bukhari and a handful of his companions remained awake beneath the Stars.
The jungle seemed to press close around them, alive and watching. For a long while no one spoke. Then one of Abu’s oldest companions broke the silence.
“We have gone farther than any of our People before us,” he said quietly. “What we have seen....no one will Believe without honest witnesses whom they knew.”
Another nodded grimly at the announcement of that fact....
“The people must come to know of the Originii. Of Guiana. Of these Survival of these Ancient Tribes and Kingdoms....” he continued in debate.
“...and of their temples,” another added. “....and of their rulers inland.”
Abu Bukhari stared into the embers to ponder....
He thought of the Yerette.
Of the Wara’Ro upon the rivers.
Of the sacred prayers beneath the ceiba trees.
Of the cycles.
Of the flood.
Of the hidden rulers collecting tribute in the names of ancient gods.
Finally, he spoke.
“Then we divide!”
The companions looked toward him.
“Some will return to the coast at first light after our meeting inland,” he said. “You will carry news of all that has transpired.”
He paused.
“You will tell them that we have entered into a world older than we could have imagined. Only what is necessary to appease their curiosity, without revealing too much that would cause them to worry and come in search of us.”
The men nodded.
“....and the rest of us?” one asked.
Abu Bukhari lifted his eyes toward the dark interior of Guiana, the untamed, uncharted and unforgiving Land that lay ahead....
“The Bravest and Strongest among us will continue inland, this I ask personally....and any of you that Believes this is as far as he can go, you habe my express permission for leave, to return....”
A chilling wind moved through the trees,
“....we did not cross the Great Waters merely to stop at the Shoreline,” he said. “What lies ahead was meant to be uncovered, to carve our eternal story into the Destiny of Man, and of this Magical Land.”
No one objected, for each of them felt it deeply withon themselves now. That strange and undeniable pull guiding them deeper into the Heart of the Unknown.
Beyond the rivers…
Beyond the temples…
Beyond the reach of memory itself.
...and as the last embers of the fire faded into darkness, Abu Bukhari realized that the True Journey had only just begun.
