Ayida-Weddo and the Tales of Heroes

Disclaimers

This story is of my own creation based on historical events or mysterious happenings here on Earth.

Tags: Swearing, Violence, Blood, Drama, Love, Sex, Intercourse, Interspecies, Egg-Laying, History, Myth, Slavery, Gods, Religious, Buddhism, Size Difference, Male Human, Female Anthro, Female Dragon, Scalie, Implied Rape Reference (Very Brief Aftermath of Event), Romance, Consensual, Magic, M/F, M/F.

Disclaimer 1: This book involves events dealing with the recent history of Liberia's Civil Wars. While many human characters are made up, the surrounding history and events involving it did happen. While there is erotic fiction in this, this book is to bring awareness of this conflict as well. There is a clear division between the sex scenes and the scenes of violence depicted in this book. One of the stories also describes events in slavery, slave trading and uses verbal words such as the N-Word to represent the time period (Historical Context). Acts of racism are depicted in this story. It is not the intention of the author to incur or invoke racial or prejudice ideas with the reader. That being said, reader discretion is advised.

Disclaimer 2: This book, while part of the Tales of Heroes universe, is also designed to help raise money for impoverished African nations. Money made from the book sales goes to charity. Please refer to my Patreon for more information on this project.

Disclaimer 3: This book is a collection of stories dealing with erotic fiction, mythological stories, and historical events. This book is a historical fiction or close to accurate with what-ifs with historical events serving as a backdrop. Careful attention to detail on historical accounts was made, and liberties were used to ensure story flow.

Disclaimer 4: No intention is made by the writer to devalue religious or mythological views that some may hold sacred. Remember, it is just a story.

Disclaimer 5: This book is meant for adults for depicting scenes of sex, including human male/anthro female scenes, violence, blood, and conflict. There is no fully described rape scene in this book, but it is implied that a main character was raped (hence the tag). While slavery is depicted, there are NO non-consensual sex scenes in this book.

Special Thanks to my Patreon supporters:

Jordy, Mike Nixon, Frank Nordhaus, Quintin Martin, Nightsound, and Anthony Kestle for their generous donations

And, of course, the other patron supporters for allowing me to write and supporting the universe that I write. :)

By CMed

Prologue

What if we live in a world that the deities exist?

What if we live in a world where myths were real?

What if we live in a world knowing that the folklores were true?

What if we live in a world in that the fairy tales were real?

What if we live in a world where history and myth intersect?

What do you believe?.....

Chapter 1: August 15^th, 2003

"I believe something will be there, Jones," said Agent Thomas to his friend standing next to him.

"I think you are heading into this too fast. I can't believe that they accepted you for this mission," Jones replied. "Our goals are to ensure that the U.S. Embassy is protected during our deployment. We must get those refugees out of there before rebel forces arrive."

They stood by the Helipad of the US Embassy that had already been established by Joint Task Force Liberia. It was a rescue and relief operation launched by the United States to provide relief effort to evacuate refugees of the upcoming rebel forces closing in on Monrovia against the Charles Taylor administration forces. Two hundred marines were sent to partake in this mission, with many more coming to help Liberia.

"It's such a mess," Jones said as they were taking a short break. "I can already see the devastation. I can hear everything in the distance......"

"My mission is to go in there and to find them," Thomas remarked. "I have to use this cease-fire as a moment to press east....."

They looked at the beach as the helicopter had deployed the next set of troops.

Jones gave a firm finger and pointed to him, "Whatever you do, whatever the fuck you do, don't go to West Point north of here in Monrovia. It's......"

"I am well informed of the area Jones," Thomas interrupted. "Trust me. From the horror stories I hear, I have no plan to go to West Point or any of the slums in Liberia. With this coming conflict coming to a close and Charles Taylor already gone, that place is off-limits. Make sure everyone you talk to Marines wise avoids that place or any place suspected of destabilization until more peacekeeping forces arrive."

"I can't believe you are going deep into Liberia for this assignment. It's suicide. You will get killed, and they will...."

"Possibly eat me, I know Jones. I know what is at stake. Volunteers of my group are known to go on suicide missions. Their goals are clear. We must search it out."

"This ceasefire can end at any moment," Jones remarked. "It was made just yesterday, and it is very precarious. It is only just here in Monrovia as well. It does not mark the rest of the area."

He wiped the sweat from his brow. His pale skin was already getting cooked from the hot sun. The smell of the ocean breeze was marked with the distant sounds of conflict and war. Jones, being African American, would help play a role in getting Thomas to the destination point.

Thomas thought to himself as Jones looked at the buildings of Monrovia in the far distance. A part of him wondered if he was genuinely insane in accepting this assignment. He couldn't believe that he was a part of Outreach. The orders superseded his chain of command. It was a suicide mission but something that he was ready for.

Outreach was a small unknown organization in the United States Government. Its goal was to search out any potentially magical events that happened and report back its findings to the UN. It was a secret organization that was responsible for finding things such as mythical creatures, deities, folktale creatures, or any unusual events and catalogs the events to the UN. It was not a large organization, nor was it well received by the government. Many argued with the purpose of such an organization and its purpose. The fatality rate for its volunteers was astronomical, and as a result, the few that volunteer and manage to report back encounter nothing to report except just more ghost stories. Thomas decided to tell Jones a little bit of the story as his goal was to assist him on this mission.

Corporal Thomas was a man of twenty-eight that served in the United States Marines. He was a firm believer in God and a spiritualist at heart. He studied theology and war in college. He was never the best of the group, but he was a man of adventure. He was the perfect individual to volunteer for Project Outreach. He wanted to take up the most dangerous assignment he wanted, even if it got him killed. He was not suicidal, but to him, he had to search for the truth.

"They always show up during conflicts," he whispered to himself. "It's as if they are searching for something.......something important. Even conflicts such as this they will ultimately show up if they haven't already done so. One of those people in this savage conflict is sure to be what I am looking for."

He took a good look at his surroundings. He was not far from the US Embassy. He could see the white building somewhat in a state of disrepair as it stood in a precarious situation. With forces closing on the city, former President Charles Taylor fleeing to Nigeria, the two Civil Wars, the building, and its staff had to face great peril. For Thomas, he was not a part of this mission to enforce and protect the staff. His goal was to head eastward.

"Yekeba," he thought quietly to himself. "I can look at the map and think it's close, but it puts me at the border of Guinea and Cote D'Ivoire. It's very far, almost a two hundred-mile travel through the plague-ridden, war-ridden territory."

He considered his options. He could take a helicopter or plane, but it would risk getting shot down by some warring faction. If it is one thing he knew, the United States felt comfortable with Liberia while keeping its back to the sea in case they needed to retreat or reinforce its capital.

It is 2003. It was a time when Liberia was in a fierce second civil war following the recent First Civil War that lasted from 1989 to 1997. Liberia, a nation created by the United States by the American Colonization Society, the purpose of the act was to allow former ex-slaves and freed slaves to return to a place in Africa. It was a mangled plan that ultimately ended up having tens of thousands of former slaves move to a location that some have never been to and claim as a home of their own. Liberia is a historical footnote in US history books of the actual consequences of the current present. It is a history marked with success, savagery, bloodshed, disaster, and potential. It will be a place that Corporal Eugene Thomas, a man born in Virginia from a middle-class family, was soon to discover the true beauty and horror a place can be. The Liberian Civil Wars would simply be known to some as the "Cannibals' War."

With the arrival of the US Marines, a temporary ceasefire was called by Rebel Forces to allow the safe transversal of individuals. Many thought that the US was there to help restore balance to the location. While this was true to a point and would not happen until later, many Liberians were mistaken in the beginning because their goal was to safely evacuate individuals, not restore peace. Once US citizens were evacuated, the Marines were to leave. At this time, Thomas had his chance to head East deep through Liberian territory to a place he was secretly assigned to search by Outreach.

Thomas went and picked up his backpack filled with emergency supplies, ammo, food, water, and other necessities that would allow him to survive at least for a couple of days. He and Jones were already dressed in civilian clothing. Technically if the road was unhindered, it was only a 200-mile trip, but with a war going on and tensions everywhere, it could turn that simple trip into a day's journey. If he made it and found nothing, then it was his job to get back home to the marines or by other means. For the agents of Outreach, their goals were to find what they were looking for, even if it meant their very lives. It was a volunteer mission with so few willing to actually do it. But for Thomas, he was ready to die if need be to accomplish his goal.

Jones took a handkerchief and wiped his brow. He was dressed in a marine uniform like the rest of the marines.

Thomas readied his backpack as he slipped it over his shoulders. It was heavy, but he carried heavier. He was already used to the arduous training to become a marine. This was no different. He wore dark blue denim jeans, a brown khaki shirt, a farmer's hat to help with the heavy sunlight, sunglasses, and a holster to hold his gun, ammo, and trusty knife. He knew that he stood out like a sore thumb in the Liberian countryside with him being light skin tone compared to everyone else. However, he was hoping that in itself might actually help him across the countryside. Or at the very least, he hoped.

"Are you sure you are not going to take an M1911 Pistol instead?" Jones asked him, looking at his holster. "You know the M9s are good, but it will obviously let everyone know that you come from somewhere else like Europe or the US."

Thomas went and unholstered his pistol and took a look at it. It was fully loaded with 15 9mm rounds. He also had two fully loaded spare magazines fit into his holster. "Trust me, Jones. I have a hunch that if I encounter any resistance, then I will need the best pistol we can use. The M1911 pistol is good, but I want something....well newer. I can hold up to twice as many rounds than that, but you do hold a point on it. The M1911 would make me look less conspicuous and part of the crowd better. I really don't think they will take too much at a look at my gun, to be honest, especially in the holster."

Thomas walked through the path that led to the jeep. They could see the embassy building not far from the path. The sound of flying helicopters dropping off personnel and supplies with personnel staff moving around showed the busyness of the area.

"I get this feeling that I am saying goodbye to a man that is going to die soon," Jones told him. "The area is going to be just too unpredictable. They will see you and either shoot you or block you from going any further. What would your girlfriend say to this mission? Rumors of this being the Cannibals' War, they can do....."

"I don't have anybody waiting for me back home," Thomas interrupted him again. "I don't even have that much family either. No one will miss me if I get killed. That is why I choose this mission. I am not suicidal. I just know that what I am looking for will be there and that I will succeed in it."

Jones shook his head. "It's your funeral, man. I still think you are chasing ghosts."

"That is for me to figure out. Make sure that no one comes searching for me if I don't return in two days. Assume I am dead or killed in the conflict. I don't want anybody risking their lives trying to rescue me."

Jones held up his hands. "Fine....the command staff seems to fully understand, and they can't supersede orders from Outreach as well."

They reached the jeep that the Marines ferried in. This jeep was nothing special it fitted with enough gas to take him there and back. It had no weapons or any special equipment. He did have a radio that he could call upon others, but he had a strict request that there would be nothing special just in case the jeep was taken from him that it could not be used to benefit that group or war party. It appeared they did just that. The jeep looked like it was dilapidated somewhat, having paint that was flaking off. It had no roof to it, and some of the elements worked on the upholstery and internal workings of the vehicle. The key was in the ignition and ready to take off when he was ready to go.

"Hey Jones, thank you for being a good.....conversationalist on the Iwo Jima. To be honest, I needed a friend during the trip here. I think in all reality, you guys are the heroes going here in the first place."

Jones took one of his arms and wrapped it around him. "Trust me, man, if you survive this, give me a holler back in the States, alright? I really hope you find what you are looking for. This Project Outreach sometimes just needs to go to church if they are on this mad quest to find god."

"Or gods," he added. "I already believe in God, and he will guide me to find what I am looking for. I wish you luck out there. Godspeed....."

Thomas returned the half-hug to him as he patted him on the shoulder. "I will be back. Just wait."

"Take care, Sergeant," and with that, he backed away from the jeep. He went to the edge of the parking lot to give one final farewell to him.

Thomas was sitting in the driver's seat of the jeep. He took his backpack and placed it on the passenger seat. He then unholstered his pistol and put it next to the bag. This way, he could grab it quickly if needed. He had no idea what was in store for him. He went and pulled out the note that held much weight on his soul.

He read the note to himself "According to this report that I am assigned by Outreach, I am to go to Yekepa, Liberia in Nimba County. According to their story, they uncovered an unknown phenomenon when LAMCO or the Liberian American Swedish Mining Company finally halted operations at the beginning of 1994. With the ongoing civil war, both sides fought one another for the iron ore mine and plundered the area all the way up to now. Supposedly they encountered a person that could not die. He appeared to be a bald man walking around in the robes of a monk. He was part of the church group in which he supposedly got shot, but nothing happened to him. The reports were considered to be nonsense to some. Others simply consider it to be something made up. It was in one of the many reports they did as the company could no longer function due to the war. It is my only main lead. I have done research on this and came up with the conclusion that this is the perfect person to look for. He would stand out in the group of people. The question is, would he still be there? Is this supposed man still alive? Is it just a false story covered up or ignored by the company before its end? There was only one way to find out, and now was the time to investigate."

He started up the jeep. It took a couple of seconds for him to turn the key to start the engine. The jeep was working, but it was a sign that it hasn't started in a while. He was going to be putting this jeep through a rough ride through dirt road terrain and potential hostile factions that ally either with Taylor's forces or one of the anti-Taylor forces. Either of them might shoot and kill him if he encountered them. He braced for whatever was going to be in his way. He would, if necessary, bribe his way past if they didn't gun him down first. He was ready no matter what.

He took a look at his surroundings once again. He was clear to leave. He revved the engine and shifted it into automatic as he took it out of parking. He drove the jeep past the parking lot and up to the gate entrance. He waved at the gate guard as they opened up the gate to let him out. He said goodbye to the embassy and anybody friendly as the jeep began to head out into the unknown.

Chapter 2: August 12th, 2003

Two days ago before Thomas's arrival, somewhere near the town of Yekepa, somewhere near the mountain range of Nimba by the Nimba Nature Reserve, a woman was running for her life. In the hot sun of mid-day, Zoe Aalieyah, a young adult born in Nimba County, was running to the town of Yekepa from the village of Kahnla. She was running down the road as fast as her feet and sandals could take her. She was approaching the village of New Bapa adjacent to Yekepa.

She was running at a hurried pace. Her goal was to make it to the nearby village to hide or seek shelter. Like most Liberians, she had a fairly dark complexion of the skin. She had short hair, wore a light green shirt, light blue shorts, and wore a set of rubber sandals. She was not tall, being at about five feet four inches. She ran with an antique snub revolver given to her by the warlord for her service in the warring faction. She used it to end a man's life that brought harm to her for a second time.

"I must make it.....I must make it," she said to herself in a thick West African accent as she ran. To her left was the forest but the dirt road was the quickest way through. She would occasionally look back and see that she was not being followed.

Amazingly, the place was quiet. There was not much activity on the road except an old man walking with two sets of cattle. He could do nothing as the woman ran past him. She knew the man was no threat to her.

"Two shots......two shots left," she said to herself. "I will not stay in Kahnla anymore. I can't go back. I won't go back. My home is lost. My dear brother.....I am so sorry. I won't let them turn me into this.......I won't be one of them."

Her foot folly traversed the roads with ease. Her feet hurt and buckled as it slammed hard into the rock and dirt. She was making a run that would challenge some military recruits when it came to running. When your life is pressed, you can do anything, and she wasn't stopping.

"Not going back......not going back to them......I will use the bullet on myself if need be."

Her heart was giving her a hard time. She was in a wilderness road that led straight forward or back. She was breathing hard, she had to stop, or she was going to collapse. She could see the village of New Baba not far from her. She was nearing her goal. She could see the outskirts that lined the dirt, huts, and homes adjacent to the village. It was not a big place, but hopefully, somebody could help her instead of turning her back into the Warlord to face her crimes.