Come one come all to read Monkey Love: Dangers of Reminiscing!!

As I promised, I have published this story before November. It stumped me for weeks to try and think of how I would start at the beginning. So I decided to do a Prologue first and perhaps explain it a bit.

To anyone who would like to have an extra treat, "Her Child's Lullaby" is related to this story and I'd highly recommend reading it before you read into this since it makes more sense of the story. However, if you don't wish to then that's fine; this story can hold its own. I hope I can make this story similar to my first by means of writing well, people reading and reviewing, and being satisfied and perhaps even honored.

I will be telling you where this is happening by extreme detail or just bluntly saying it in the story as well as saying what the names mean so no worries. I hope I can make this as enchanting and enticing as I did before, especially with new OCs…let's see what happens!

Summary: A woman of Monty's late past comes back into his life...and the child he never knew he had wants him dead! Nukpana must protect her own while debating if her master cheated on her, if he is worth her love now. Just as she's about to decide, a man from her own village comes…

Disclaimer: I only own Nukpana, Zuri, Abidemi, and Hasani; everyone else belongs to Disney.

The steps to the temple were cracked from centuries of abuse, mud and dying meadow stuck on it thanks to the shoes that walked so carelessly. White swollen clouds protected the villagers by floating before the sun which beat down mercilessly in these months of summer. They took in the sunlight, filling up with it instead of filling up with rain they desperately needed. Despite the bandage like coverage from the rays of the sun, heat seeped through and found the ground most attractive. With every step one took, it felt as though the ground were on fire which was near impossible.

When one walked on the ground, little pats of dirt kicked up like the dust of a neglected home. That's all the ground was; dirt. Once they had beautiful grains and crops growing, tall grass surrounding them with both loveliness and the dangers of creatures. The wind blew but it was no longer appreciated for instead of caressing the wasted away grass, it kicked up dirt instead. It was summer though so no one was surprised when they stepped out of their huts and felt hot coals beneath their bare foot.

Because the days grew longer, many people stayed indoors. The huts made of clay and dried mud provided a few degrees cooler than just roaming outside. Women walked around topless, cooking and cleaning as usual. Children played naked while their older siblings who weren't married just yet wore only a thin cloth, helping their parents. Men either sat against the damp clay wall smoking tobacco or taught their sons the business of marketing, farming, life.

However, there was one family who did nothing of the sort. It was more of a broken family, an unfinished one, for there was no father. Outside in the scorching weather stood two figures although one did more moving than the other. The woman looked similar to an hour glass with muscular legs and thin arms, shocking since the other human being was her son.

Her chestnut colored hair shined brightly against the sun when it escaped through the barriers. It was impossible for her to tie it up like other women did with pieces from their skirts since hers barely reached her shoulder, cut clean with a knife. The woman's eyes watched her son move about, training.

This female was known to the village as both sacred and dishonored. Her family line protected an important part of their home, making her something similar to a goddess. When this important thing was taken from under her guard and she became round with child with no man nearby, they shunned her. Still, when she was seem walking through the pathways of the village, people stopped and stared.

It wasn't because of her past sins or bloodline glories; it was because of her beauty. Like most people, her skin was dark from the African sun along with genes. Her hair was similar to half the population of girls and her figure like one of a teenager. It was her eyes stopped made people gape, the very thing that separated her from the others, that marked that she was a keeper of treasure.

Treasure she guarded and lost, treasure she gained and possessed. It looked like the gods had removed her eyes and replaced them with two sparkling emeralds. No one else in that place had such color, making her being simply stunning. Her name meant beautiful because when she first opened her eyes and cried when she was a babe, her mother proclaimed her to be a goddess.

"Mother Zuri, can I stop now?" The boy asked, pausing in his steps; he was crouching crookedly at the moment. Sweat gleamed and rolled down his skin which strangely was not as dark as hers. True he had a tan but his skin was almost white, thanks to the genes he inherited from his father.

"We've been out here only for an hour." The goddess look alike spoke calmly, snapped out of her daydreams. Watching her son train made her wonder what it would be like to watch him attack the owner of the seed that made him.

Pushing away the messy jet black hair that clung to his sweaty neck, he nodded. "Yes mother." He started to do various tricks, practicing control in his punches and kicks. In his mind, he pictured the man that his mother had described to him so many times before.

"Good, Abidemi, good." She complimented him as he threw another punch. "Perfect form…keep your arm straight." Her voice was firm and clipped, the way a teacher would speak.

The young lad kept his arm straight for a brief second before pulling back and replacing it with his leg. Like his mother, he had bright jade eyes with lashes that made him look slightly feminine. However, the muscles he attained from fighting and practicing made up for that. Under the heavy studying gaze of his parent, he turned and kicked a nearby with a warrior like cry.

It was only natural for boys to be trained into warriors, to become men. It was a right of passage, in a sense. Much to Zuri's dismay, the village of Monstone not only shunned her but her flesh and blood as well. Children used to play with him until their parents pulled them away. By the time his generation turned well into their double digits, they understood why they should outcast him.

Because of this, his mother was forced to train him at the age of ten. Five years had passed since their first lesson and he was possibly the best fighter of his age. True that Zuri had no former experience in fighting but her fury made up for it. Fury every woman felt when scorned, when abandoned with a child, made her teach her son. It wasn't only a lesson in how to fight; it was a lesson in how to destroy the man she once loved.

More time had passed before either noticed. The sun was going down, giving a welcomed chill to the air of Africa. Abidemi stood up, his limbs screaming in exhaustion, but remained still. When his mother finally snapped out of her daydream once more, she smiled. "That was good, my son. Come; we need to rest up. We are taking a journey tomorrow."

"A journey, Mother Zuri?" He looked up at her as they walked back to the temple. Despite the fact that the treasure was lost, she still had to live in such a high place until death.

"Yes…to America."

Monstone is my own clever combination of Monkey Stone; if you read "Her Child's Lullaby" you'll know why but if not, then it will be explained later.

Next chapter: We see how Nukpana, Monty, and Hasani are fairing after so many years; we also see Ron and Kim's relationship/status after so long. Review please!