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Over a millennium before now, Aksum shone proudly as the capital city on the crown that was the Aksumite Empire.
However, Dawit simmered in the shadows. Bitter and greedy, he scorned his subpar jewellery and cursed his fellow craftsman.
One night, when the sun had set but he hadn’t, knuckles knocked against the door.
“Closed!” he bellowed gruffly, his eyes refusing to stray from the abused metal bent at his mercy.
“Not for me,” a voice hummed kindly, the locked barrier flying open to reveal a dark, tall and not quite human figure. “As I too am open for business.”
A deal was made.
“Sell me your soul and the souls of your descendants so I can grant you all the gift of marvellous crafts superior to any other.”
For once, Dawit didn’t bargain. In fact, he was eager to accept and the devil left with nothing more than the vow of souls, a smile and a wave.
Dawit’s business was brought up by the rising sun. Within the morning hour, the entire city lined up at his door and threw money in exchange for legendary jewellery that glistened richly beyond belief.
However, when the sun fell, so did Dawit’s luck.
Alone in his store as he often was, he doubled over and clutched his stomach that felt unbearably hollow despite the feast he engulfed only an hour earlier.
“So... hungry...” he croaked before collapsing.
After a few moments, Dawit woke but not in the same body.
Clawed paws replaced his hands when he looked down at them, horrified he attempted to stand up, quickly discovering that he could not. Disorientated and robbed of words, he whined and whimpered until he saw his reflection in the shiny gold that seemed to taunt him.
A hyena.
He was a hyena.
And he was so hungry.
Returning home, a blissfully ignorant man walked by the store, whistling a tune as he moved with a drunken skip to his step.
Moving on a new, furious instinct raging within this alien body, Dawit shot through the open window and hit the floor running. Before any fight could be fought, the drunk man was limp on the floor and Dawit was filling his tyrannical belly.
This was the true price of his deal.
Not only does his soul, not only do his descendants’ souls, belong to the devil but so does his humanity. Forevermore, the Ousanas bloodline would dominate the crafting industry while disguising the burden of a hyena’s nightly hunger.
Eventually the Aksumite empire fell but the curse did not. Now, in 1910, Afryea walks off the SS Bengal at the Royal Albert Dock.
She is a hyena.
And she is so hungry.