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|The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by obehiD: 4:26pm On Jun 16|
Hey guys I'm back starting the new book...(couldn't stay away for long )
Dranoid, ztarlord, siralabia, cadec007, essyprity, phoenixchap, WHOcarex, monalicious, elyna, botaflica, nitescholar, nady94, niwdog, izicky, geosilye, skylard101, ultimategeneral, jupitre, godwinfury, emarkson, sikiratu
Just tagging everyone who commented on the last one
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|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by obehiD: 4:27pm On Jun 16|
The Community, Benin City, Edo State, Nigeria
Odion walked slowly towards the bolokhon field. She let her gaze move from the teenage boys running along various parts of the field, to the onlookers standing behind the side walls. She kept moving closer, pulled by an invisible cord, closer towards the sides of the fields, as though there was something there, something calling to the inquisition she’d put her mind to. Finally, she thought, finally Nature was revealing it, finally the pieces were being put back together. She had her suspicions, pieces of the puzzle were coming together, forming in a way that made it even harder to stomach the life she was living now, the life she’d been forced to live. Still, there was a part missing, a string yet to be connected. Though why that little part would cause her more unease than the sixteen missing years, she didn’t know. But there was something in the way her apparition had called to her today, something that let her know that this vision would be different.
Odion stopped by the edge of the side wall, allowing her fingers to travel over the wooden boundary, as she watched the players running around with the ball inside the field. Her eyes scanned the various players briefly, flying from the bare-chested ones who had their hands tied to their arms with ropes, to the other team who had on the proper bolokhon jerseys. The inbuilt straps in those jerseys bound the players arms to their bodies keeping their hands from touching the ball. Her eyes kept on their bored perusal, flying from the runner who now had possession of the ball and bounced it on his knees to keep it from touching the floor. As she watched, she wondered why her apparition would send her here, to this part of the community she’d never seen before, to watch children playing a bolokhon match, a sport she had little interest in, in a time she couldn’t pinpoint.
Odion tried to zoom in on the players, focusing on them to see if one would jolt her memory. Maybe Isokun was among them. As hard as she tried though, she couldn’t find a single familiar face. Her gaze caught on a boy in a jersey with an orange shirt tied around his head. He lunged at the other team’s runner to tackle the ball out of his possession. The runner passed the ball to another team member before he was laid flat on the floor. Odion winced at the impact. Her eyes scanned the man with the orange head tie. There was something familiar about him, she just couldn’t place it.
Just about fed up with the pointless vision, Odion turned around prepared to summon her apparition.
That was when she saw her.
Two teenage girls walked towards her. One of them spoke quickly, her lips moving uttering incomprehensible words to the girl walking by her. The other girl’s attention seemed to be fixed on the bolokhon field, as she scanned the players with wide eyes. Both girls stopped right by Odion, almost as if they’d seen her, as though they knew she was there. Odion knew enough about her trips to the past to know that they couldn’t see her. Still she couldn’t help stretching out her hand to reach out to the girl standing right by her. She’d only seen her in a few other dreams, all as a grown man, but she felt as if she would know this woman anywhere.
Tears filled Odion’s eyes as she watched her mother. She’d seen her as a memory, from the eyes of herself as a child, a mind that already knew her mother. This was different. This was the first time she’d seen her in a vision of the past, in her own mind, a mind which had been starved for self-awareness, craving the family she’d loved and lost, a family she didn’t know, but had only recently found out existed.
The girl standing by her mother spoke up pulling Odion out of her own thoughts.
“You look as if you’ve never seen a bolokhon match before. Didn’t you say your parents came here from the Yenagoa community?” the girl asked.
Odion watched as her mother pried her gaze from the field and turned towards her questioner. “My parents were sent to found the Yenagoa community, so we didn’t really have time for sports. I was a baby when we left.”
The other girl smiled and nodded. “It’s captivating, isn’t it?” she asked mesmerized. “They really are the ultimate athletes.”
“Why is the field so colorful?”
“The field is spelled, it’s made of grass grown by verdant magic. If the ball touches the grass it bursts, and the teams send in players to fight in the white square. It’s called the spar square. It raises when there’s a fight. The smaller black squares throughout the field are springy. If the players jump on them, they bounce up. The rest of the field is greens, just regular flat spelled carpet grass. The masterpiece of the verdant mind.” The girl scoffed. “You’d think with everything verdants can do they’d be happier about growing food or medicine. But their crown jewel is the bolokhon field. Not that I’m one to talk, my father designed and built this field.”
The girl just shrugged. “The goal of the game is to get the ball to the other team’s score block without using their hands and without it touching the floor. Then they have to shoot it into one of the goal notches.” She pointed at the high wall of intertwined twigs surrounding square holes. “The ball can’t touch the twigs.”
“Why does that boy have his hand free?”
“He’s the blind guard, his job is to make sure the ball doesn’t go through any of those holes. He may have his hands, but his eyes are covered. He has to use his mark to make sure the ball doesn’t get past him.”
Odion’s mother’s lips parted. Whatever she was about to say was pushed back by another voice.
“Toju, who’s your friend?”
Odion turned with her mother and the other girl, Toju, watching as the owner of the voice stopped beside them, accompanied by two other girls.
Toju smiled in greeting at the girls. “Uwa, this is Itohan, Itohan Omorodion.”
Itohan smiled, stretching out her hand. She pulled her hand back when Uwa, the girl she’d just been introduced to, looked derisively at it. “Omorodion?” Uwa asked, sizing Itohan up with her eyes. “That doesn’t sound like an ancestry name.”
Toju kept smiling, seemingly oblivious to the scathing tone of Uwa’s voice. “It’s not. Her bloodline isn’t part of the ancestry. She was born here, but her parents were sent soon after her birth to found the Yenagoa community.” Toju replied, her respectful tone in cool contrast to Uwa’s.
“Banished from the community.” Uwa mocked. “I wonder what they did wrong.” The girls standing by her laughed.
“They weren’t banished, they were sent on a posting.” Itohan responded, her tone just as caustic as Uwa’s.
“Well of course you’re not, you’re a peasant. If your bloodline was part of the ancestry, your family wouldn’t be ‘posted’ anywhere.” Uwa’s tone had transformed from biting to condescending. Itohan moved to respond, but before she could Uwa cut in. “What is your lineage?”
Itohan frowned. “My what?”
“She’s asking where your parents are from.” Toju explained when it was obvious that Uwa wouldn’t deign to do so.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but my father is from here and my mother is from Lagos.” Itohan replied.
“Lagos?” Uwa spat the word out as if it had a bad taste. “You’re a taint.” She scoffed and then walked away with the girls she’d walked in with.
Itohan stared gaping at their backs as they walked away. It wasn’t till they rounded the corner, walking behind the checkered wall of twigs, that she regained the ability to form words. “I’m a taint?” she asked, her voice coming out lower than usual.
“You’re not pure Edo blood.” Toju clarified.
“You’re not me. You have Edo blood since you were born on Edo soil, so you’re still competition, which is why she feels the need to be insulting. Just ignore her.”
Itohan frowned. “Why were you so cordial?”
“Because she is pure Edo blood and her bloodline is part of the ancestry. She may just end up marrying really high into the Enikaro, the family that rules. She’s set her sight right for the top. Which is probably why she’s here, to watch her future husband, to watch the sons play.”
“The sons?” Itohan asked, her gaze moving back towards the field and the players running around in it. “Are they all brothers then?” she asked.
Toju shook her head. “THE sons, not some sons.” Toju seemed to notice the confused look on Itohan’s face because she clarified. “The sons of the God-born.”
Itohan’s lips parted, her mouth hanging open in shock. “THE God-born? The queen of the Benin community?”
Toju giggled. “She’s not really a queen. She’s more like a god than a queen. She’s Uhonmon the first, the only Uhonmon that gets the title ‘child of Duraya’. Then there’s the matter of her parentage. You have to know at least that much.”
Itohan nodded, her eyes now opened as wide as her mouth was. “And her sons are playing here?” Toju nodded. “Can you point them out to me?” Itohan’s voice was filled with awe as she asked.
Toju just smiled as she nodded. “You see the one with the orange shirt tied on his head?” she asked, pointing to a player standing by the other side of the field. He stood by the corner, close to the score block, talking to Uwa and the girls she’d had with her. Itohan nodded. “That’s Omoruyi Ehizokhae. He’s the God-born’s second son. He’s a bully.”
“So stay away from him?” Itohan asked, her eyes fixed not on the man but the laughing girls he was chatting with.
“That too. But I meant he plays the position of bully in the game. He’s a commune. I’ve heard he’s a pretty powerful one. We don’t exactly live in the same social circles, so I couldn’t confirm or deny that. He’s also a terrible flirt. Many a girl has falling into that trap.”
“And the other one?”
Toju squinted her eyes as she scanned the field. Her gaze travelled over the players. “I know he’s here somewhere.” She kept looking. “Ah-ha!” she exclaimed. Toju stretched her hand out, pointing to the other side of the field and a bare-chested player, who hit the ball with his head, back to another teammate behind him.
Itohan’s lips parted for the second time as she stared at the boy with an awe-filled gaze. Odion followed the direction of their collective gazes and her heart almost stopped in her chest when she saw him.
“That is Ejehmen Ehizokhae, the God-born’s first son. He’s playing the position of runner. He takes everything seriously. His sports, his studies, his trainings. If any one of the God-born’s children are going to take her place as an Uhonmon, it’s him.” Toju kept talking when Itohan didn’t seem in a hurry to chime in. “He’s actually spoken to me, which for a child of the Enikaro, is no small thing. Think of Uwa, and then amplify her arrogance a hundred times, then you’ll get close to the descendants of the Enikaro, the future leaders of the community. He’s a nice guy. Not really a ladies-man though.”
Itohan’s gaze flew to Toju’s. “Don’t tell me he likes men?” she asked, her voice filled with despair.
“No.” Toju laughed. “Not that, he doesn’t flirt the way his brother does. I’ve never heard of him being interested in anyone, male or female.”
“He just hasn’t met the right person yet.” Itohan stated determinedly.
Toju turned her attention to Itohan and sighed. “The Enikaro can only marry Edo blood. You are Edo blood, but you’re a taint. Ejehmen is an overachiever, the type to only go for pure Edo blood. Just don’t go falling in love with him before you even meet him.”
Itohan crossed her hands over chest, narrowing her eyes as she stared determinedly at Ejehmen. Her eyes followed him as he caught the flying ball from a teammate and bounced it on his left shoulder up into the air, and then a few times on his head, as he ran with the ball towards the other team’s score block. He paused, sending the ball down to his knees bouncing it from one foot to another. He turned sharply to the left to avoid a tackle from the opposite team. Two more players from the other team ran towards him. He sent the ball flying in the air from his left knee, and jumped into a patch of black grass, which sent him vaulting in the air. He came up with his right leg stretched and hit the falling ball, sending it flying straight towards a teammate on the other side of the court, closer to his own teams score block. That teammate caught the ball with the upper part of his feet. Before he could decide what to do with it, two of the other team’s bullies came flying at him. He reared back, and the ball dropped to the floor.
The air filled with the sound of the ball bursting.
The teams separated, the ones in jerseys huddling in the right, and the ones without to the left.
Odion watched as Ejehmen walked towards the man who’d dropped the ball. She saw his lips moved and she knew she had to hear what he was saying. She took a deep breath and focused on him. She focused on how much she wanted to hear him, and the sound of his voice travelled across the field. The shock of hearing that voice again forced her back. She smiled wistfully at him, even as the pain of loss filled her chest.
“Do you want to take the fight, add some penalty points?” Ejehmen asked his teammate. The boy shook his head. Ejehmen shrugged. He walked towards the white square in the middle of the field and stopped in front of an older man. The man waved his hand and the ropes binding Ejehmen’s hands to his body fell off. Ejehmen laughed when he saw the boys coming to meet him.
“Two against one? That hardly seems fair.” Itohan stated as she watched the other team’s blind guard take off his blindfold and walk into the square, with Omoruyi at his heels.
“The fight is stacked against the team that drops the ball.” Toju explained.
As soon as all three contenders were standing on the square, the white grass underneath them began to rise, setting them up on a raised stage.
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|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by obehiD: 4:28pm On Jun 16|
The other players gathered around the stage as the fight began. The blind guard stepped forward first. Odion’s eyes narrowed at the mark on the boy’s forehead. It was a pentagon with a star in it. She couldn’t see the details of the star from that far off, but she knew that the star meant the boy was a coven member.
Odion’s thoughts were confirmed when Toju said, “The boy Ejehmen’s fighting first is an elemental coven member.”
Itohan gasped. “They aren’t allowed to use their marks are they?”
“Only when they fight in the spar square.” Toju replied.
Odion’s attention went back to the fight as the blind guard made his move first. She could see his mouth moving as he pushed forward with his hands. Whatever spell he’d used forced Ejehmen back, sending him close to the edge of the spar square. Ejehmen leapt forward. He jumped in the air, somersaulting over the blind guard’s head. He hit the blind guard in the back with his elbow, before the boy could turn around. The blind guard fell to his knees. Loud cheers rose from the left half side of the spar square where Ejehmen’s teammates stood. The blind guard stood up, turned around and received a blow in his stomach which sent him flying in the air.
He stretched his hands out, and pushed back against the air, stopping his fall. The blind guard, now suspended in the air, flew down towards Ejehmen head first. He hit Ejehmen in the stomach with enough force to send him tumbling off the square. Ejemhen’s hand flew out and he grabbed onto the edge of the square before he could fall off. With that hand, he threw himself into the air and he landed on his feet in front of the blind guard.
A finger snapped, and a pile of rocks appeared on the spar square.
Ejemhen took a step back as the blind guard rose his fingers in the air. Then he bent his fingers forward and one by one the rocks came flying in the air towards Ejemhen. Ejemhen ignored the flying rocks. He ran straight through the hail of rocks, towards the blind guard, and while the blind guard was preoccupied with this magic, Ejehmen knocked him out with a blow to the chest that sent the blind guard stumbling off the spar square and onto the floor. As soon as the blind guard touched the floor off the raised platform, Ejehmen’s teammates went wild screaming and cheering jumping up and down in the air as they called out his name.
Ejehmen smiled as he turned to face his brother. Omoruyi smiled back.
Ejehmen attacked first, his fist aimed for Omoruyi’s head. Omoruyi swerved to the side quickly his eyes shining red as Ejemhen doubled over, his head in his arms. Ejemhen straightened, his eyes flashing brown as he heaved, shaking, in the first moments of transforming. The red cleared from Omoruyi’s eyes as he backed off. Ejehmen’s eyes returned to their normal color.
Omoruyi turned his hand in the air, spinning it until a thick wooden rod appeared in his hand. “How about we do this without going into our marks? I don’t want to get mauled by a dog.” He teased, balancing the long rod in his hands.
There was a finger snap and two smaller wooden rods appeared in Ejehmen’s hands. He spun the rods around in his hand as he smiled back at his brother. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He replied.
Omoruyi lunged at him, his stick coming down hard towards his brother’s unprotected shoulder. Ejehmen rose his right stick right before Omoruyi’s could hit home. He countered with an attack to Omoruyi’s stomach which was just as easily deflected. The blows started in earnest then, Ejehmen raining down hit after hit going for different sides of Omoruyi’s body. Omoruyi let his longer stick cycle in the air deflecting his brother’s blows as they fell. Then the positions reversed and suddenly Omoruyi was the one attacking and Ejehmen defending.
A hand clap and both sticks disappeared from both players hands. Ejehmen was the first to recover from the shock of losing his instrument. He aimed a blow at Omoruyi’s stomach and Omoruyi was too late to stop it. The force of the blow sent him flying in the air and then landing back hard on the platform with his back making contact with the ground. Ejehmen moved to take advantage of Omoruyi’s temporary incapacitation, when Omoruyi’s eyes flashed red and a ring of fire appeared around Ejehmen keeping him from moving closer.
“Cheat!” Ejemhen yelled out, laughing as his brother struggled to get back to his feet.
As soon as Omoruyi was standing, the ring of fire disappeared. Omoruyi ran towards Ejemhen determined to knock him down. Ejehmen waited to the last minute, when Omoruyi was only a breath away, and then turned suddenly, swerving away, and pushed Omoruyi forward with the force of his spin. Omoruyi went flying off the spar square and landed on his stomach on the lower field.
The spar square rose higher in the air, hailing Ejehmen as the winner, before lowering back to the floor.
Itohan let out a long breath, as if she’d been holding it throughout the fight. “What does he win?” she asked.
“He gets two extra penalty points which allows him to do some more offensive tackling, and his team gets the ball.”
“What was the finger snap, and the hand claps I heard while they were fighting?”
“The spar watcher. The watchers modulate the game. The spar watcher makes sure that the fight is fair, because of the different marks.”
“Speaking of marks, what is Ejehmen?”
“He’s a werewolf, a natural born beta.”
Itohan nodded, her attention pulled back to the game when she saw that Ejehmen, the ropes back around his body, had possession of the ball. She screamed out when she saw the two bullies from the other team running straight at him. Ejehmen bounced the ball of his knee and fell on his back, passing the ball on with his raised leg. As soon as the ball was out of his possession the bullies crashed into him Itohan yelled so loudly, Ejemhen who’d immediately jumped back to his feet stopped and stared at her.
Their eyes met.
Itohan smiled back.
Then the game continued and Ejehmen took off running after the ball. Toju, oblivious to the moment that had passed between the both of them, spoke trying to reassure Itohan. “He’s a werewolf, they heal really fast. Ejehmen knows what he’s doing. That was a body to body offensive tackle, which means that both of those bullies just lost eight penalty points each. They only have ten to begin with. Once they run out of penalty points, they can’t do anymore offensive tackling.” Toju stopped realizing that Itohan wasn’t listening. She turned towards the focus of Itohan’s attention just in time to see Ejehmen jump into a black spot in front of the opposing team’s score block. He jumped into the spot with his right leg and somersaulted sending his body in an arc in the air, just in time to catch the ball flying in the air towards him. He kicked the ball with the flat top of his left foot and aimed it perfectly at the top notch on the other side of the score block. It went flying past the blind guard through the hole. His entire team raced towards him.
Itohan cheered, clapping her hands together madly and jumping up and down in the air, celebrating Ejehmen’s goal as if she was a part of the team.
Ejehmen broke off from the rest of the team and walked directly towards her. He jumped over the side wall separating them from the field.
“Toju please introduce me to your friend.” He said. As he spoke to Toju, his gaze remained fixed on Itohan. He studied her in detail from the cornrows on her head, the simple purple dress she had on, to the brown sandals on her feet. And as he studied her, she studied him, letting her eyes travel down his body. They both smiled when their eyes met after their assessing looks.
Toju cleared her throat. “Ejehmen, this is Itohan Omorodion.”
“Itohan Omorodion, where have you been all my life?” he asked.
Toju stared with her mouth agape, as her look flew from one face to another. She backed away from the both of them, leaving them alone.
Itohan chuckled. “Don’t you have a game to play?” she asked. “You’re very good at it. I’ve been enjoying watching you play.” Itohan frowned then. “You’re not hurt are you? I was sure with…”
Ejehmen’s smile widened. He interrupted her. “No, I’m not hurt. It’s half time, and I’m not that good. I can’t hold a torch to Odiri Igho.”
“Odiri Igho?” Itohan asked.
“A runner in the Nigerian team. She plays professional bolokhon. I think she’s the best runner in the world”
“She? Your idol is a woman?” Itohan asked.
Ejehmen wrinkled his nose at her. “Does that make me look less masculine?” he teased.
“After what I just saw, you could grow breasts and you still wouldn’t look less masculine.” She looked down and then looked back up at him. “I like that your bolokhon idol is a woman.” She said.
“And I like that you like it.” He smiled at her. “So, how long have you been in the community?”
Itohan was just about to answer when the loud call of “Ejehmen!” pulled both of their attentions back towards the field. Itohan gasped when she saw the woman standing in the middle of the field.
“That’s my mother.” Ejehmen said, grabbing hold of Itohan’s hand. “Come and meet her.” Ejehmen was moving forward before Itohan had a chance to protest. He was about to jump over the side wall when Itohan put her hand on the twigs. Her eyes flashed blue and the twigs bent, making way for them to walk through. Ejehmen stepped over the roots, turned around and picked Itohan up, carrying her over to the inside of the field. “You’re a verdant.” He said. “One more thing to love about you.” He let go of her then, holding on to her hand as he kept walking towards his mother who now stood in the middle of the field.
As soon as he got to her, he let go of Itohan’s hand and bent in greeting, touching his right hand to the floor. Itohan fell on her knees in front of the woman, her head bowed.
“Stand up my dear Itohan.” The woman spoke. Itohan stood up then, her mouth parting in shock.
Ejehmen scoffed. “One of the things mother likes to do when she meets people is shock them with her augury, by calling their names before they’re introduced.”
Itohan curtsied, bending at the knee as she greeted. “Good afternoon menoba.”
The God-born smiled at her. “Good afternoon my daughter. How are your parents?”
“Fine thank you menoba.” Itohan responded, curtsying as she spoke. “Actually, I should start heading back home.”
“Ejehmen will take you.” The God-born stated firmly.
Itohan shook her head. “That’s not necessary menoba, Ejehmen has a game to get back to.”
“There are many players to stand in for him while he’s gone.”
Itohan was about to speak when Ejehmen cut in. “Nothing good happens when you argue with the God-born.” He teased.
Itohan curtsied. “Thank you menoba.” She said. She looked from mother to son and said, “I’ll wait for you Ejehmen by the side wall.” Ejehmen nodded and she walked away.
“Since when did you become involved with my relationships mother?” Ejehmen asked lightly.
“Since when do you have relationships son?” the God-born responded. Ejehmen scoffed, shaking his head as he smiled at her. She smiled back. “Make a good impression on her family.” She ordered.
Ejehmen frowned. “Not that I don’t love you enough to do whatever you ask, but can I know why?”
The God-born stretched out her hand and stroked his face, her eyes filled with the love she bore for him as she spoke. “Because she will be the mother of your children.” She replied.
Ejehmen groaned. “Sometimes, I wish you would let me find out my future for myself.” He reached for her hand and kissed the back of it, before releasing it to let it fall back to her side. “I will make you proud mother.” He said, before bowing one more time to her and turning around, heading back towards Itohan.
The God-born watched him leave before she turned around and headed in the opposite direction, where kneeling verdants held the twigs of the side wall parted for her to walk over. She stopped by a horde of people lying and kneeling in deference to her. In front of those people, there was a boy bent in greeting with his hand touching the floor. She pulled off the orange shirt tied around his head and kissed him on the cheek when he stood up. Then she walked away, taking the orange shirt with her.
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by obehiD: 4:29pm On Jun 16|
Odion turned around shocked to see Osezele, her twin sister’s daughter, standing behind her. Osezele’s gaze traveled over her surroundings, stopping for a bit over the field and then continuing on in the direction of the woman who’d just walked away. She watched as the people who’d been on the floor stood back up as the woman left and wondered who the woman was.
Odion pulled Osezele into her arms and hugged her close. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I wanted to see you aunty.” She looked around the scene and asked. “What is this?”
“This is the day they met.” Odion smiled, turned and pointed to Ejehmen and Itohan as they walked away.
“Who are they?” Osezele asked.
“They are my parents.” Odion replied. “Your grandparents.”
“Grandparents?” Osezele repeated the word slowly, as if savoring it. She took her attention back to where they’d been, ready to savor the memory of them, but they were gone. “I didn’t know I had grandparents.”
“Your mother and I didn’t fall from the sky.” Odion teased, pulling Osezele closer as she hugged her tighter. “Why did we wait so long to bond?” she asked the question aloud, more to herself than Osezele.
It was Osezele who responded. “Aunty you won’t believe the last few weeks in St. Luke’s! Imps, mediums, blue places, white places, bijous…in fact aunty, I have so many questions for you.”
Odion, seeing the light in her eyes, was just about to tell Osezele to start from the beginning when yet another augur broke into her vision.
“Osezele, what are you doing here?” Oare demanded.
“Uncle Oare!” Osezele yelled back.
“Uncle?” Odion asked, her gaze flying from Oare’s guilty face to Osezele’s excited one. “How do you know him?” she asked.
“She has to go Odion.” Oare spoke up, cutting in before Osezele could respond. Osezele moved closer to Odion not wanting to let her go. “You are in Seclusion Odion, you took the oath of the oasis. You can’t be in a bond. I’m doing everything I can to hold them off, but this needs to end now.”
Odion grit her teeth, swallowing back the urge to demand the truth for once, from the man she’d foolishly allowed into her bed. She shook her head at him, before taking her gaze back to Osezele. “Oare is right. You have to go.”
“Why?” Osezele asked.
“I’m in Seclusion which means I can’t use my marks. A bond can be tracked. If I’m caught in a bond where I am, it won’t be good.” She pulled her in for a hug and kissed her on the cheek. “I love you Osezele. Now go.”
Osezele looked between her aunty and her uncle Oare and then she left, leaving the both of them alone. Odion didn’t wait to hear whatever he had to say. She summoned her apparition, the form with feet of water, a body of fire, a head of wind, arms of rocks and hands of leaves that guided her to her visions of the past. As soon as she felt the air from the head of wind, she walked into the hole in the fire.
Odion heard a banging sound on her door, just as she walked out of the portal. Her apparition disappeared as the banging got louder.
“Open this door immediately, on orders of the council.” A voice announced from the other side of the door.
Odion walked over to the door and she opened. A short man stood on the other side. “What took you so long to answer?” he demanded. “Step aside, you are scheduled for a surprise inspection today.”
Odion had to clench her jaw a few times to keep from letting the hatred she felt spill out on the man. The wave of hate that rose in her was so foreign and so unexpected, it died down as quickly as it had risen, but she couldn’t deny that it had been there. She’d been right about this vision filling the blank. She’d known it would and it had. Now, only moments after it was done, she felt as if there was a much darker person in her. One that was filled with hatred and spite, one that wanted to make the entire world pay for what was done to her family. That person frightened her.
She stepped aside.
“I’ve got this one, move on.” Oare ordered, his voice calling out from behind the man. The man turned around, saluted him and marched on. Oare walked in before she could slam the door in his face.
Odion took a deep breath, pushing that darker part of herself back, as she watched Oare stop in front of her.
“I’m sorry.” He said. “I wanted to tell you.”
“Wanted to tell me what?” she snapped at him. “That your father was the psychopathic traitor responsible for killing my family? That your father had the gall to abduct me and give me a second mark without my approval or my permission? That you’ve known all along who I was, and you didn’t say a thing? That you somehow got into my niece’s life and you have her calling you uncle? What exactly did you want to tell me? You, lying, son of a bitch!”
Oare took a step back, surprised by all the anger coming out of her. “I never lied to you.” He replied. “What would you have said if I told you? Would you have believed me if I’d told you that you are one of the last descendants of Benin community royalty?”
“Considering the fact that I chose to share my life with you, I think I deserved the right to at least be told. And how did you get into my niece’s life?” she demanded.
“Don’t Odion. Please don’t.” Oare begged, reaching out with his hands for her.
“Tell me.” She snapped.
Oare’s hands fell to his side. “Last year when she came into her mark for the first time, Osezele was kidnapped by a rogue commune called Ebo. I believe he was the commune who hid her mark. Her friends sent a bond to you, to help track Osezele and save her from Ebo. I had forced a bond on you at the time, so I intercepted the message before you could and went to her aid. I only did it to save her Odion. I swear, I didn’t have any ulterior motives, I just wanted to help her.”
Odion glared at him. She sniffed forcing back the tears that came to her eyes. “Did you do it to help her, or did you do it because you were ordered to? You were ordered to watch me, weren’t you? Were you ordered to have sex with me, or was that just revenge on your part? You aren’t even your own man, are you? No.” Odion shook her head. “You’re just a soldier in your father’s battle for redemption.”
Oare lashed out, grabbing onto Odion’s shoulders and pulling her closer towards him. “We were raised with a single objective, taught that the only purpose for our lives was to serve some people we’d never met. We trained to do whatever we had to, to protect you and your family. I grew up learning more about your family than I’ve ever known about mine. I was raised a soldier.” He swallowed. “Yes, at first watching you and Osezele was just another assignment. When I went out on the first date with you it was just to get closer, so I could keep an eye on you. Maybe the first time I slept with you I did it because I hated that my entire life was dictated by a woman who didn’t even know who she was. But that changed as soon as I got to know you, as soon as I got to see the beautiful woman inside. I love you Odion, and I’ve been watching over Osezele because I care about her. I could never live with myself if anything bad happened to either of you.”
Odion eyes turned cold as she looked at him. “You love me because you got to know me, got to know the woman inside?” she asked. Oare nodded. “Well you fell in love with a sham. I’m going to get my memories back Oare, and when I do, I can assure you that the woman you fell in love with won’t be here. I’m not that woman. Now let go of me.”
Oare let her go immediately, pulling back as if stung.
“How can I ever trust you again?” Odion demanded angrily.
Oare shook his head. “No. Don’t say that. Say that you hate me. Say that I lied to you. Call me every despicable name you can think of, but don’t say that we can’t have trust again. Because if we can’t have trust, we can’t have love, and I don’t want to live in a world without the possibility of being loved by you.”
Odion turned around. “Perhaps it’s for the best that we cut our losses here. I’m going to be too busy filling the holes in my memory, too busy for any distractions.”
“Distractions?” Oare demanded. “Is that what I am now.”
Odion shrugged. “It’s time for you to go.” She said, her voice shaking slightly with the emotions she held back.
“No. I’ll take the oath of the oasis and come live in Seclusion with you. I’ll do anything to make this right.” Oare swore.
Odion turned around. “I. Said. Leave!” she ordered.
Oare took a step back. He clenched his jaw and then bowed to her, waving his hand with theatrical flourish. “As you wish, menovie.” He stated sarcastically before storming out the door.
Odion waited for him to leave before she allowed herself to break down.
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by Dranoid: 8:00pm On Jun 16|
Thanks for the mention.
The story is back!!! Finally something nice on NL to look forward to.
Am I the only one that feels Odion should accept Oare back?
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by jupitre(m): 8:57pm On Jun 16|
Finally...It's gonna be amazing... Thanks for the mention ma
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by nady94: 11:49am On Jun 17|
Thanks for the mention, I don come with my popcorn and pepsi
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by phoenixchap: 5:18pm On Jun 17|
ObehiD fire on, I'm right on point
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by GeoSilYe(f): 1:27pm On Jun 19|
Thanks for the mention!
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by obehiD: 9:46pm On Jun 22|
You're not the only one oh! I guess we'll have to wait and see what happens
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by obehiD: 10:01pm On Jun 22|
St. Luke’s Mixed Boarding School, Port Harcourt, Rivers State, Nigeria
“Junior students, JSS1 to JSS3 girls it is time for food! You have till the count of ten to leave the hostel. SS1 girls start getting ready. SS2 and SS3 girls please start getting ready. JSS1 to 3 girls, ONE!” Osezele yelled at the top of her voice as she walked down the middle of the hostel.
“Do I have to go? I don’t like eba.” Seyi whined when Osezele walked into the corner.
“If I have to go, you have to go.” Osezele teased in response. “TWO!” she yelled out.
Osezele watched her bunkmate Seyi run to the back of their bunk and throw things hurriedly into her backpack.
Osezele walked out of her corner, walking down the middle of the hostel as she continued her count. “FOUR!” She jumped back, startled, when a junior student ran right into her. Osezele turned around and stifled the urge to laugh at the crestfallen look on the girl’s face. She stared from the empty bowl now held upturned in the girl’s right hand, to the small heap of garri on the floor. The girl’s heartbroken gaze rose from her spoiled lunch to Osezele’s face. And when she said, “I’m sorry.” Osezele couldn’t tell if she was more sorry about the garri or bumping into her. Not that it mattered.
“FIVE!” Osezele yelled, still staring with mirth at the girl. “You’d better get a broom and clean that up.” She advised, before walking around the girl and heading for the bathroom at the end of the hall.
Osezele was still hiding her barely contained smile over the poured garri incident when she walked into the laundry room, and found Bimbo standing in front of a sink as if she had all the time in the world. Something about the relaxed pose the girl took as she waited to fill the water in the bucket in front of her, reminded Osezele of the rude words the JSS3 girl had spat out at her the last time they’d met. She felt anger rise in her, vestiges of the emotion she’d had to force herself to suppress that time because she’d been too afraid to do anything about it. Too scared to rock the boat.
“Whose bucket is that?” Osezele asked, choosing to give the junior girl the benefit of doubt.
Bimbo looked up from the bucket filling in the sink and placed her hands on her hips. “Mine.” Of course. Osezele shook her head. No, Bimbo hadn’t added the ‘of course’ but the tone of her voice had done the job for her.
“It’s time for food and I’m counting for junior students to leave the hostel.” She remarked mildly, confident that Bimbo couldn’t have missed her screaming the count at the top of her voice.
“Oh.” Bimbo replied, in a tone of voice that implied she wanted to ask ‘so?’, as in ‘so why should I care about that?’
Osezele smiled. “Bimbo, I’m counting for junior students to leave this hostel. You don’t want to be here when I reach ten.”
Bimbo inclined her head slightly and looked away. Osezele’s lips parted as she watched, shocked by the blatant disrespect she was being treated to. It was only the thought of what her best friend Tolani would do in her place, that spurred Osezele on, shaking her head, and laughing to herself.
She took a few steps out of the laundry room, walking towards where the hostel met the entrance to the bathroom. “JSS1 to JSS3 girls, SIX!”
Osezele turned around and headed for the bathroom, ignoring the solitary figure still standing in the laundry. She climbed over the raised ledge and walked in, frowning when she heard the splash of water coming from one of the bathroom stalls. She walked away from the tap to her left, towards the rectangular bath blocks where they took their baths. She stopped when she saw a girl wearing a pink dress, walking out of a bath block. She walked back to the door. “SEVEN!”
“Who punished you?” she asked, when she heard the splash of water and moved to see the JSSI girl on her knees in the bath block, scrubbing the wall as hard as her little hands could bear.
The JSS1 girl dropped the scrubbing brush back into the bucket of soapy water and took her focus to Osezele. Osezele frowned when she saw the eyes staring back at her, red and swollen from crying. “Who punished you?” she repeated the question.
“Senior Fatima.” The girl replied.
“Fatima in SS1?” Osezele asked. The girl nodded. She wiped her eyes quickly as if trying to hide the tears. “What did you do?” asked Osezele.
“I stepped on her bed when I was rushing to leave the hostel, after I heard them ringing the bell for food. I was visiting Senior Oke’s bunkie, and when I came down, I had one leg on the wooden frame of Senior Oke’s bed, and the other leg touched Senior Fatima’s bedsheet while she was lying on her bed.”
“Stop, it’s time for food.” Osezele ordered gently.
“You are releasing me?” The girl asked excitedly.
Osezele shook her head, trying to ignore the feeling in her chest when the hope that had briefly risen in the little girl’s face broke. “Please Senior Osezele, it was a mistake.”
“Fatima is my classmate. She punished you, I can’t release you. I’m sorry.”
“But you’re a school prefect.”
“Food is the only thing under my control, which is why I can give you a break since it’s time for food. But that’s all I can do.”
The girl nodded. “Thank you.” She said, before running out of the hostel.
Osezele watched the girl leave with a trembling lower lip. She could still remember when that girl had been her. But it wasn’t her friend’s bunkie’s corner mate punishing her, it was her own bunkmate. As often as she could, for three years, because no one had cared enough about her to stop it. She felt a tightening in her chest, as red-hot anger rose like a tidal wave in her, from the memory. Her eyes turned the telling shade of red, right before she took her focus to the bucket of soapy water. The bucket exploded, sending water splashing allover the bath block. Then her eyes went back to normal, and with it, her emotions.
She turned away from the bathroom and walked back into the hostel. “EIGHT!” she yelled as she thought about the best way to approach Fatima. She couldn’t let that JSS1 girl go through anymore scrubbing for something as silly as stepping on an SS1 girl’s bed. She kept walking mindlessly through the hostel, her thoughts on the JSS1 girl, when a sharp edge poked her in the side.
“Ah, what is it!”
She heard the explosive yell and turned around. The girl who’d yelled at her, looked up and took a step back, her mouth hanging open in shock when she realized the enormity of her mistake. The junior girl placed both hands on her mouth, as if covering it could take back the words she’d yelled out in frustration, or at the very least keep her mouth from lashing out again.
She looked at the dustpan, the object she’d felt poking into her side, and her laughter grew. She took her attention to the garri now poured on the floor allover again, and she knew that if she didn’t leave, she’d fall over on the floor and her laughter just might kill her. What were the chances of having the same girl bump into her, spilling her garri on the floor, twice in the same place? She shook her head at the garri, and walked away, ignoring the girl who stared at her with a profound look of shock.
“Seyi you’re still here?” Osezele asked, once she’d managed to suppress her laughter, and find her way back to her corner, the space she shared with her bunkmate Seyi, her corner mate Ngozi, and Ngozi’s bunkmate.
“I’m leaving!” Seyi cried out in reply, grabbing onto her backpack and running out of the hostel.
“NINE!” Osezele yelled, walking away from her bunk towards the door leading into the hostels. “NINE AND A HALF!” She added the half, just as others had done before, the half mark close to the end, to give the students a last chance of grace. Osezele stopped by the door, holding it open as junior students ran, their footsteps stamping on the floor as they raced towards the door. She stood to the side, watching, waiting till they’d all left to add her own extra grace period. “NINE AND THREE QUARTERS!” she yelled, ignoring the snickers from the senior students in the hostel.
“NINE AND FIVE SIXTHS!”
Osezele turned around, hissing lightly when she saw the person who’d added that last teasing count. Not that she couldn’t tell from the voice.
“NINE AND SEVEN EIGHTS!” Tolani yelled adding even more to the count.
Ngozi stormed out of Aishat’s corner. “TEN!” she yelled, casting a cold glare at Tolani. “Osezele lock that door.” She ordered, before turning and heading for the corner they shared.
Osezele closed the door, smiling at Tolani. She turned around then, and the smile faded from her face. She frowned at the junior students, the ones who were younger than her in class years, the ones who she’d been counting for and who were only now attempting to leave the hostel.
“SS1 girls, make sure you leave this hostel before Osezele does.” Ngozi announced as she walked towards the bathroom. “SS2 and SS3 girls, I’m locking the hostel door as soon as I leave.” Ngozi’s voice faded away as she faded from view.
Osezele stared at the students in front of her as they continued to arrive, more junior students who had no business being in the hostel after she’d counted. So why wasn’t she surprised to see Bimbo standing amongst them? Even after she’d explicitly warned the girl. Osezele was about to speak when the door opened behind her. She stepped aside, inclining her head to make sure it wasn’t her junior walking in.
“You counted?” Osezele nodded in response to Oke, Fatima’s corner mate, the SS3 hostel prefect. Oke looked at the junior girls standing in front of her. “And these ones were late?” she asked. Again, Osezele nodded. Oke turned her attention to the junior students frowning at them. “Why are you people looking at me?” As soon as she asked the question the junior students’ eyes dropped to the floor. “And why are they standing? Oya digwe like you’re greeting your grandmother!” Oke snapped, and the junior students dropped to their knees in front of her. Oke moved forward, going further into the hostel, and the junior students shuffled, crawling on their knees to make way for her. “Eh-en.” Oke turned around in the middle of the group of kneeling junior students. “Tolani, you have forgotten my corner shey. Every time you come to this hostel now, it’s only Osezele you see. Don’t be like Nigerian economy oh, diversify your interests.” Oke turned around and left, calling out to Aishat as she walked further into the hostel.
“Oke will not kill somebody. You just have to listen to her talk and you’ll know why she’s Lami’s bestie.” Tolani teased underneath her breath, low enough that only Osezele could hear.
Even now, there were some people that Osezele could never bring herself to comment on. She didn’t know where Tolani got the courage. “How is Lami?” she asked instead.
Tolani sighed. “The same. She has her good days and she has her bad days. As long as no one mentions Moji, I think she’s able to make herself forget that she doesn’t know where her sister is. I just wish there was a way we could help her.”
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by obehiD: 10:02pm On Jun 22|
Osezele sighed. She started to respond when an SS1 girl pushed through the kneeling junior students. “See friendship goals!” the girl exclaimed when she got to where they were. “Tolani and Osezele, you people are inseparable. Let me kukuma go and get my own bestie oh, before this jealousy you people are creating kills somebody.”
“You will find quality bestie in the same place you bought that slippers. Ah-ah, why will you go and buy something that fine for school? We will quarrel oh.” Tolani teased back.
The SS1 girl laughed as she moved to open the door. She hesitated with her hand on the handle. She turned towards Osezele. “Did you punish them or did Oke punish them?” she asked.
“Oke punished them. Why?”
The girl sighed. “It’s my fault that my bunkie was late. I sent her on an errand.”
The girl drew her head back, raising her eyebrows in question. “I thought you said Oke punished them?”
“I’m the one that counted, so I’m the one who has to deal with them.” Osezele responded.
“Ah, ok. Thank you.” She smiled at Osezele, gesturing to one of the junior students kneeling in the front row. They both left the hostel together.
Osezele turned, placing her hand against the door handle to close it behind the departing girls.
“Osezele! You’re leaving.”
Osezele swerved, turning back abruptly.
“Don’t leave yet.” Fatima pleaded. “Wait small.”
Osezele frowned. She opened her mouth, preparing to tell Fatima that she hadn’t been about to leave, till the image of a girl kneeling in a bathroom stall with a bucket of water behind her, froze the words in the back of her throat.
“Why should I wait for you?” Osezele asked. Casting her direct look at Fatima, trying to look into those eyes and see if there was even the slightest bit of the girl she’d once called a friend, hiding behind those orbs.
“Ngozi said you should be the last SS1 girl to leave now. Just wait five minutes now.” Fatima pleaded.
“I’ll wait, if you release the JSS1 girl you punished.”
Fatima frowned at her. “I didn’t know you knew the girl.” She said in response.
“You can release her, or you can join her when Ngozi sees you in this hostel after I’ve gone.” Osezele stated flatly, ignoring Fatima’s previous response.
Fatima’s frown grew into a deep scowl, her eyebrows drawing together. She hissed, sucking air in through clenched teeth. “I thought we were friends. You should have just asked me to release the girl.” She rolled her eyes at Osezele before turning around to leave.
“Fatima.” Osezele called her name, stopping her in her tracks. “Are you releasing her or am I leaving now?”
Osezele’s question was greeted with silence. The minutes ticked by as the students kneeling between Fatima standing on one side and Osezele on the other, looked back and forth between the two. Tolani gawked at Osezele.
Fatima hissed. “I’ll release her.” She said, before stomping off back in the direction of her bunk.
Osezele smiled. The tightening in her chest she’d felt since the moment she saw the hope fade from the girl’s face, went away, putting her back at ease. She turned to Tolani. “Close your mouth before fly enters.” She teased.
“Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?” Tolani asked in response. “You’ve been different ever since the…” she cast her gaze to the kneeling students and lowered her voice as she said, “the incident.” She finished lamely, referring to the day when Osezele had battled three imps who’d decided to merge and take control of her body and use her to kill every student in her school. “But this is so different, you might as well be a different person.” Tolani finished.
Osezele laughed. She didn’t know what to say. She felt like a different person. She felt as if the imps hadn’t just left her, as if when she’d beaten them and ordered them away, they’d taken all her negative emotions with them. For the first time in her life, she was at peace. She couldn’t explain it, so she said instead, “What do we do with these students?”
Tolani eyed her jokingly, let her eyes travel from the top of Osezele’s head to the tip of her toes, sizing her up in a way that would have been insulting if she didn’t do it with a smile on her lips. “Who is we?” She asked. “I was just admiring this new you now, don’t let me down.”
Osezele pouted. “I don’t know how to flog, and any other punishment I give would be too much, and I can’t just let them go.” She turned wide eyes on Tolani, smiling as Tolani’s brows drew together in question.
“Tch!” She exclaimed once she understood where Osezele was going with her wide-eyed look. “You want me to flog them for you?”
“What are best friends for?”
Tolani shook her head. “Fine, but you’re going to pay me for this.” Osezele was about to ask, when Tolani shook her head. “Don’t bother. You’ll know the price when I come collecting.” Tolani took off the palm slipper she wore on her right foot and proceeded to flog the students, three strokes each on their palms.
Osezele burst out laughing and Tolani stopped. She stood straight, directing her gaze to the back of the crowd where a junior student was standing, having only then joined the other students.
“My garri friend!” Osezele shouted out laughing as the girl’s face rose timidly to meet hers. Osezele opened the door. “You can go! Losing your garri is enough punishment for one day.”
The girl looked skeptical. She ran to the door before Osezele could change her mind. “Thank you.” She said, heaving a sigh of relief as she walked through the open door, finally feeling free enough to share in Osezele’s laughter.
“If Tolani has flogged you, you can go.” Osezele ordered, as she held the door open. The students walked out, avoiding her gaze as they left. “Wait!” she called out, rushing towards Tolani and the JSS3 girl she’d been about to flog. “Please leave Bimbo.”
Tolani, remembering the last time she’d had to step in when this same JSS3 girl had openly insulted her best friend, frowned at Osezele. She put her free hand on her hip. “Why?” she asked. Osezele didn’t reply, she just smiled. Tolani frowned at her and shrugged. She shook her head and moved to the next student, continuing until they were done. She dropped her slippers to the floor with a loud thud.
Fatima stopped in front of the trio and cleared her throat, pulling everyone’s attention to her presence there. She looked at her bunkie kneeling on the floor in front of Osezele and Tolani and for the first time in her life, she couldn’t think of a single insult caustic enough to make them release her. She cast a regretful glance at Bimbo, shook her head and walked out of the hostel.
Osezele watched Fatima leave before turning her attention back to Bimbo.
“Bimbo, I warned you not to be in this hostel after I counted. Didn’t I?” Osezele asked.
Bimbo looked warily at Tolani before nodding.
Osezele nodded too, following Bimbo’s head movements. She eyed the back of the girl’s head, watching as she made no attempt to hide the fact that Tolani was the one she was afraid of. Osezele sighed. “Crawl to the refectory.” She ordered.
Both Tolani and Bimbo’s heads snapped up. They both gawked at Osezele as if they either couldn’t believe the words she’d said or that she’d been the one to say them.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Osezele asked, ignoring their reaction.
Bimbo shook her head. She cleared her throat distractedly, before proceeding to nod, so confused by Osezele’s punishment she didn’t know what to do. “I was only late because senior Oke sent me.” Bimbo lied.
Osezele frowned. “Oke.” She called out as she made to move for the hostel prefect’s bed.
“What are you doing?” Bimbo asked, moving slightly to block her path.
“I’m going to ask Oke if she sent you on an errand.” Osezele stated simply.
“I’m sorry Osezele. I made a mistake, I…”
“Yes, you made a mistake. You made a mistake when you ignored me. Now either crawl to the refectory or wait here and see what happens when I ask Oke if she sent you.”
Bimbo gasped. She moved forward, crawling on her knees, outside the hostel doors towards the refectory. Osezele followed behind her. The movement of Osezele’s feet spurred Tolani out of her trance. “I don’t know if I should be afraid or impressed.” Tolani confessed.
Osezele walked out the door and waited for Tolani to walk out too, closing it behind her, before she responded. “You should be afraid.” Osezele teased, squinting her eyes and flaring her nostrils. Then she laughed, realizing how silly she must have looked. “It’s time I settled this matter with Bimbo.”
“I agree. I just didn’t think you had it in you to actually punish the girl. Then again, I didn’t think you could batter with Fatima the way you did. Osezele 2.0. I like it.” Tolani smiled.
Osezele shook her head. She looped her arms into Tolani’s as they walked slowly behind the crawling Bimbo. She tried to ignore Tolani’s words, tried to laugh off her joke about Osezele 2.0, but as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t ignore the voice in the back of her head that told her Tolani was right. She’d become a different person when she stepped out of that ring fire. Something inside her had changed, something was fundamentally different. Even now, as she thought about it, worried what this new change might mean, she felt that familiar urge to let her worries go. It was almost as if there was a commune in her wiping away every negative emotion she felt. Or a witch, somehow forcing the bad to good. Only she wasn’t sure if this was good. Could an extreme her be good? She’d had her fill of extremes when she’d absorbed all those emotions, and they’d brought out a side of her she hated. She sighed as her worries faded again, if this was a side of her that people respected, could it really be wrong?
Tolani jabbed her in the side with her elbow.
Osezele looked up. She frowned when she saw the balls. “Inter house sport.” She groaned. Maybe her inadequacies with sports would bring back the old her.
Tolani squealed. “I can’t wait! I’m going to march, run, play football…” Tolani stopped counting off all the things she couldn’t wait to do when she heard Osezele groan even louder. “Let me guess, you hate inter house sports.”
Osezele nodded. Then she sighed. “I just hate not being good at anything. I’m always too scared to try anything.”
“Well, maybe Osezele 2.0…” Tolani broke up abruptly when she realized they’d gotten to the refectory. She frowned at the noise coming from the refectory. “Time for you to go do your job.” Tolani remarked, inclining her head towards the hall.
Osezele walked into the middle of the refectory, stopping in front of a kneeling Bimbo. “I don’t hold grudges.” Osezele said to her. “If you respect yourself, both of us will be fine. Do you hear?”
Bimbo nodded. Osezele nodded back. “Go and sit down.” She ordered, releasing her.
“Thank you.” Bimbo said, rising to her feet. She walked over to the room in the refectory reserved for her class.
“KEEP QUIET!” Osezele yelled in a voice that carried clear over the noise in the refectory.
“You look like a proud mother watching your favorite child.” The words whispered into Tolani’s ears as she stood at the door leading into the refectory, leaning against the frame, startled her, causing her to jump. She turned around, rolling her eyes when she saw Victor standing behind her, watching Osezele with the same look she’d had. “Who is that girl?” he asked jokingly.
“Osezele 2.0.” Tolani responded in the same teasing tones.
Victor frowned. “2.0? I liked my Hell, just the way she was.” Tolani turned around fully, smiling at his words. She gave him her full attention in a way that made the hairs on his body stand. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing.” Tolani replied. “That’s the problem. Doesn’t it feel like the calm before the storm?”
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by Dranoid: 4:27am On Jun 23|
The only thing I have to say is
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by phoenixchap: 11:58pm On Jun 24|
@Obehid, As always I am here with you and once again I'm marveled by your prowess. I'm taken by your work I must confess I see great improvement
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by monalicious(f): 11:36pm On Jun 27|
I've missed you so much
I come on NL with the expectation of reading your story
I'm sorry I haven't done as I promised
I would do so ASAP
Seating back to enjoy this one
And thanks for the mention
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by phoenixchap: 7:49am On Jun 28|
Waiting for the complete master piece... ObehiD
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by obehiD: 7:59pm On Jun 29|
@dranoid yeah I love 2.0 too...definitely had a lot of fun writing that haha.
@phoenixchap Thank you! Yeah, I am trying to improve on both my writing and the story (I see a lot of fun things in store). As to completing the work, there should be one more book after this, which concludes White Sight and a major part of this story, but after that, there will be a drastic change. No spoilers though
@monalicious I'm so happy to be back! Thanks for saying that, it really means a lot. Hope you enjoy :-)
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by obehiD: 7:59pm On Jun 29|
The Village, Rupokwu Forest, Rivers State, Nigeria
Joe stared pointedly at his daughter, Ashanti, waiting for her to speak. He watched with narrowed eyes as the girl took her attention to the abacus, as if he could have anything to say worth anyone’s time. Still, Ashanti had become somewhat obsessed with training her new pet, so he would indulge her. To a limit.
Ashanti walked over to the abacus and placed her hand on his back, stroking him as she spoke. “Tell our father what you told me.” She stated cajolingly.
The abacus nodded. He spoke quickly, eager to please the old man standing in front of him because doing so would please his sister, Ashanti. He lived to please her. He shook his head, lines appearing on his forehead as he frowned in silent contemplation. He tried to remember why he was eager to please her. The frown lines went away as the answer came clear to his mind. He did it because he loved her. No, he shook his head scowling, as anger stirred in his heart. He felt as if he loved her, as if the only thing that could make his life worth living was making her proud. So why did he think he hated her?
The abacus remained in this state of pensive speculation until Ashanti moved towards him. She sighed, drawing out the sound to make her displeasure known. “I don’t like it when you think so hard.” She cooed, bending her head down towards the abacus. She kissed him on the cheek and stroked the other side of his face with the back of her hand as she asked, “don’t you love me Bingo?”
“Bingo?” Joe asked, his lips twitching with amusement. He couldn’t remember the boy’s name, but he was sure his first wife, the boy’s mother, would have given him a better one than that. She did love him so much, but why she did Joe would never understand. His attention turned to Ashanti and he beamed with pride. That was a child a parent could be proud of. A bi-marked shifter-commune, an asset to her family, not the waste of space abacus son he’d been saddled with.
“That was the name of my first dog. I’ve never loved another pet as much as I loved her.” Her hand rose to the back of her brother’s head, playing with the short curls as she added, “Until you gave me this one.” She stroked the back of his neck as she spoke, her eyes darting up to her father to show the sincerity of her gratitude.
And she had so much to be grateful to her father for. She’d been in denial of her commune mark, almost afraid of it. She could still remember how much she’d fought against using her mark to take a life. Not as much as she’d fought against enthralling her brother. But having him under her command, knowing that he would always be loyal to her, always love and obey her, it was the best feeling in the world. It showed her just how powerful she was, all she was capable of, and she hated herself for all the years she’d spent denying this part of her.
“Does it speak?” Joe spat the question out at the boy. Bingo. He laughed out loud thinking about how appropriate it was. Bingo. He wouldn’t forget this name.
“HE speaks. When his head is not too busy, thinking thoughts I didn’t tell him to think.” She added the last part as a mild scold to her brother. She let out a put-upon sigh as she bent to whisper into his ear. “You will learn.” She promised, going into her commune mark.
Ashanti’s eyes glowed a bright red as she bit down into her bottom lip. She took that pain and channeled it to her thrall, amplifying it as she did, so that it would feel like his brain was splitting. He let out a loud cry as the pain filled his head. “Shh.” She said, stroking the back of his head as she eased the pain away. She took all his bad emotions with the pain. She continued stroking, swirling her fore finger in his hair as she syphoned the emotions away. “No more thinking for you. Now tell our father what you told me.” She ordered.
The abacus smiled, beaming up at his father, barely holding the words in. He couldn’t wait to tell him what he’d thought of, he couldn’t wait to make Ashanti proud. He really did love her so. “I know how to get Emeka back.” He said.
“Do you?” Joe asked, his tone heavy with boredom. “Speak.”
“I suggest a two-fold attack. The reason it didn’t work last time, was because we targeted random people. They would never think to get him involved in that. We need to target the people he cares about, the ones who care about him. We need to go after his pack. Make them remember that they had an alpha they trusted, make them lure him out of hiding. Emeka loves his pack, more than he ever cared about this family. For him, it’s Oshoke first, and then the wolves in St. Luke’s. If we want to force Emeka out of hiding, we need to get his wolves to reach out to him. We attack the wolves, and they’ll think of their alpha, what pack wouldn’t, facing what they will. But just in case they don’t think about him, on the off chance that their current alpha doesn’t consider it, we use our agent. The agent wasn’t in place before to influence the wolves. Now that’s changed. We attack them and have our agent slowly lead them to the only reasonable solution. Let the agent show them that they need Emeka. He’ll come out for them. I guarantee it.” The abacus waited, watching his father’s face desperate for any sign.
He got it when Joe smiled, even though the smile wasn’t directed at him. It was directed at the person it should be, and that made Bingo happy.
“You trained it well.” Joe gave his praise to the person who deserved it. Not Bingo, but Ashanti. He smiled at her. “As always, you make me a very proud father.”
Ashanti frowned at her father. “He’s not an it!” She stated sharply.
“Him.” Joe corrected himself to make her happy. He spared one contemptuous look for the abacus whose hated brains had been behind solving the problem which had plagued him for so long. “Make the arrangements.” Joe walked over to his daughter and kissed her on the head. Then he turned around to leave. He stopped himself midstride. “No.” he said. “Leave Bingo with me. We’ll come up with a plan of attack together. You’ve earned a break.” Joe frowned when Ashanti hesitated, her hand clutching tighter on her brother’s shoulder. “What’s the matter, don’t you trust me with your pet?”
Ashanti exhaled loudly. “Of course, I do.” She said. She squeezed Bingo’s shoulder and walked out of the hut.
Ashanti walked through their compound mindlessly. She tried not to worry about leaving Bingo alone with her father, but every time she thought about them, her mind flooded with images of her father clawing off pieces of his son’s forehead. Bingo still had those claw marks on his head. She didn’t know what she would do if he hurt him, not now when he was getting so close to being perfect. He still defied her, he still thought for himself. She could tell, even though he tried to hide it. But he was trying, and that was all that mattered. Of course, he struggled. Who wouldn’t? But it was how hard he strived to please her that made his lapses so forgivable. She would train him better, she swore to herself. She would make him perfect.
Ashanti stopped when she realized she’d wandered off their compound into the forests that bordered it. She tried to stay away from this forest at night, not because she was scared of the wolves in her father’s pack who ran in it, but because she didn’t want to be seen by them. They all tried to flirt with her. They all wanted her, but she was not theirs to take. Her heart and her hand already belonged to another. She just had to wait for him to come and claim it.
‘For him it’s Oshoke first.’ Bingo’s words came back to her then and she pushed them out of her mind. She’d have to punish him for saying it of course. He knew how much Emeka meant to her. She didn’t keep anything from Bingo, he was the only one she could trust. She told him everything. Yes, she nodded, Bingo would have to pay for that thoughtless remark. Not as much as Oshoke would. No, Oshoke would pay with her life. Slowly, and painfully. But not before Emeka fell on his knees and begged, not until he swore that she, Ashanti, was the one he truly loved.
Ashanti jumped around, startled by the voice. It had an ominous quality to it, so much so it made bumps rise on her skin. And she was never afraid. The voice sounded like death.
Ashanti blinked, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. She saw it then, the thing that had called out to her. With wide eyes, Ashanti stared at the form in front of her. She started at the bottom, at the sandals, rising up, her eyes taking in the uniform that it wore, a uniform she was very familiar with. She gasped when she got to its face. It had been too dark for her to see the skin of its legs, but she could clearly see the face from the lighting of the moon. The skin on its face was cracked. Black lines spread out all over its skin, like wall cracks. If the cracked skin wasn’t enough to tell her what she was looking at, the empty eye-sockets were. She stared at it with disbelief as she remembered the words aunty M, the grand warlock, had said to her after she’d used her mark for the first time to take a life, and gained the dark rings in her eyes.
They are just like us, except for the black crack lines in their skin and the emptiness in their eyes.
Ashanti hadn’t known then that M had meant literal emptiness, that they didn’t have eyes. This was the first one she’d seen, the first one that had come to their village since she’d gained the ability to see them. It was strange to look into a face with empty sockets. Very strange. She wrapped her hands around herself as she spoke. “Yes, imp?”
The corners of its mouth crept up in a smile. Ashanti shuddered.
“I bring greetings from the mighty undead, Nebud, the Kaiser of Lahooni.”
“The Kaiser of Lahooni.” Ashanti repeated the words slowly, giving herself time to take them in. “You come from the spectral port of Lagos?” she asked.
The imp nodded.
“What does the Kaiser of Lahooni want with me?” Ashanti asked, barely fighting the urge to run to Bingo and tell him what she’d seen. He would never believe her. She laughed at herself in the comfort of her mind, of course, he would. She would make sure of it.
“The mighty undead has given me permission to seek my revenge.” The imp stretched its hand out, revealing the mark on its wrist, at the base of its palm.
Ashanti gasped when she saw the shining mark engraved on the wrist. It looked as if it had fire trapped in it, as if little embers were buried under the skin, bringing the small flames to life. She knew that mark, had studied it, drawn it. It was the brand of the wronged, a scar that cried out for justice. She gulped nervously looking at it. It was a sign which could only be given by a magistrate of a spectral port, a scar that communes were honor bound to oblige. Ashanti looked nervously at the imp, praying the vengeance it wanted wasn’t on her. “What do I have to do with your revenge?” she asked, her throat suddenly feeling dry.
“We have a common enemy, and anyone who would do her harm, is my friend.”
“Oshoke?” Ashanti asked, fully prepared to oblige this imp if it was her.
The imp shook its head. “Osezele Omorodion.” It stated.
“Osezele Omorodion?” Ashanti frowned. “Osezele. Where have I heard that name?” Ashanti’s lips pursed as she thought. “Osezele! The St. Luke’s bi-marked warlock!”
The imp nodded.
“As much as I would like to assist any Kaiser of a spectral port, my father wants the girl for this family. He doesn’t want her dead.”
“Death would be too easy.” The imp said. “Will his tactics for recruiting her be kind?” It asked. Ashanti shook her head. “Will he make her suffer till she breaks to his will?” Ashanti nodded. “Then I take the oath to Sada.” It clenched its still outstretched hand into a fist and the flames in the brand sparked to life. “I vow to take my revenge on Osezele Omorodion, and to assist you in whatever way you require to bring her to her knees, or to meet Sada trying.” As soon as it said the words, the fire in the brand extinguished and all that was left on the wrist was a dull mark, the same color as the cracked skin.
Ashanti smiled imagining the joy this would bring to her father. To have an imp swear to Sada, their afterlife, was better than good luck. It was a promise of success because they were bound to that oath. They would either see their wishes made to reality or die trying. And everyone knew an imp in the spectral existence could not be killed.
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by obehiD: 8:00pm On Jun 29|
The Community, Benin City, Edo State, Nigeria
Ehi studied Isokun, his eyes resting on the sunken skin of his face. Impassively, he looked at the lines, and the bone structure he could see so clearly through the drawn skin. His father looked emaciated, as if he was starving.
Isokun cleared his throat. Ehi ignored the sound. He let his eyes roam across the room, over the bare walls, back to the table and the chains binding his father’s arms to it. A trail of blood came out of Isokun’s nose, running down to the top of his lips before his father noticed enough to wipe it off.
“Well?” Isokun prompted impatiently.
“Well what?” Ehi asked in response, his tone bored as he stared at the man who’d singlehandedly destroyed his childhood. Isokun hadn’t raised children, he’d raised soldiers. Ehi smirked as the thought crossed his mind. At least his father was getting what he wanted, soldiers to his cause. Unfortunately for Isokun, soldiers didn’t follow orders from an unfit commander.
“You know what!” Isokun snapped, wiping at his nose when he felt the familiar trickle. Ehi just rose his eyebrows nonchalantly. Isokun sighed. “When do you start your new assignment?”
Ehi laughed at his father. “I don’t take orders from you. Not anymore.”
“You will take the girl as your charge! Or…” Isokun spoke irately.
Ehi placed both hands on the table and leaned forward, staring menacingly at his father. “Or what? Even in the peak of your power I wasn’t afraid of you. Why will I be scared now?”
Isokun shook his head wondering how this one child could have gone so wrong. If only Oare hadn’t gone and fallen in love. “You have a duty, an obligation…”
“The same old speech.” Ehi scoffed. “Nothing ever changes with you. I know my duty. I already have a charge. Why should I leave them to babysit a teenager?”
Isokun stared at him with eyes full of shock. “Because she’s special.”
“My charge is special. They are unique, they are the definition of one of a kind.” Ehi boasted.
Isokun’s shock morphed into scornful humor. He laughed at his second child, laughing hard even though the action brought him pain. “Oare didn’t tell you.” Isokun stated finally.
“Tell me what?” asked Ehi in response.
Isokun smiled derisively at him. “She’s a tri-marked warlock.”
Ehi snorted. “That just makes it worse. You expect me to leave them for a girl who won’t even live to see her eighteenth birthday?”
“Listen.” Isokun snapped. “You are letting your emotions cloud your judgement. I would expect this from Oare, but not you.” Isokun exhaled to get his emotions back under control. “I did not say that she is tri-marked. I said that she is a tri-marked warlock. An augur, a witch, and a commune.”
Ehi’s lips parted in shock. “That’s impossible.” He shook his head, as awe filled the vestiges left as the shock crept away. “A tri-marked warlock. Another whole.”
“Another?” Isokun scoffed. “If you’re referring to you and your siblings, compared to her, you are like broken glass pieced back together with glue. She is the only one.”
The shock of his father’s scathing insult surprised him. Ehi scolded himself for letting the old man get to him. “Why give her to me? Ose was always your favorite.”
“Ose is otherwise preoccupied.”
Ehi stood up abruptly. He turned around and stormed out of the room, ignoring his father’s raised voice yelling at his departing back. He took a little too much pleasure in slamming the door. He stormed out of the prison, avoiding the cameras as he moved. Ehi chuckled to himself, replaying the shock in his father’s voice as he’d yelled out his name. He had always enjoyed pissing his father off. He stopped by a wall, placing his back against the wall as a prison guard walked by. He couldn’t very well be seen in the community, now could he? Ehi breathed in deeply when he walked out of the building. He walked hastily towards the guard station where his brother stood, waiting for him.
“So?” Oare asked, impatient to hear the verdict.
Ehi sighed. “He thinks it’s my turn to babysit the brat.” He responded mockingly.
Oare grinned. Ehi’s tone told him everything he needed to know. If he was mocking, he wasn’t bored, that, at least, was good. “She’s a good girl.” He said.
Ehi scoffed. “If she’s so good, why are you leaving her?”
‘Because I’m in love with her aunty and she needs me, even if she doesn’t know it.’ Oare wanted to say the words, but he couldn’t bring himself to admit how far or fast he’d fallen. ‘I’m going to get my memories back Oare, and when I do, I can assure you that the woman you fell in love with won’t be here’. He could just hear her saying the words to him. She was definitely changing, growing into the woman she was born to be. She sure hadn’t had any problems ordering him to leave. And he hadn’t had any problems obeying her. He groaned at that thought, shaking his head. She needed him. He just had to find a way to make sure she knew it. She could change into whoever she wanted, he’d still be here waiting to protect her, to give her the love she deserved. He shook his head laughing at himself. When did he become so pathetic? He wondered. But to his brother he asked, “And how is our father?”
“Weak.” Was Ehi’s only response.
Oare chuckled. No crime could be worse in Ehi’s book. He fought the urge to remind him that he too would be old and weak one day. Knowing Ehi, he’d probably swear to kill himself before he let that happen. That was the reason he couldn’t share his love with his brother. Ehi only understood strength. Ehi wouldn’t understand how weak Odion made him. “You should go easy on him. He is our father.”
Ehi snorted. “Is there anything I need to know about the girl?”
“So, you’ll take the assignment?” Oare asked, forcing himself to remain apathetic. He couldn’t reveal the hope he felt. He couldn’t help the feeling that Osezele was just what Ehi needed.
Ehi watched his brother with narrowed eyes as he waited for Oare’s façade to slip. He could always tell when Oare was hiding things. “Tell me why we do this again.” He drawled.
“We have a duty…” Oare began.
“If I wanted to hear our father’s droning words, I wouldn’t have slammed the door in his face.”
Oare gaped at him. Slammed the door in his face? He wouldn’t put it past him. Only Ehi could be so cold towards a dying man. He shook his head. “We do it because it’s the right thing to do. It’s more than just making up for the mistakes our father made. More than just ensuring the wellbeing of our bloodline. They are the last descendants of the Enikaro. If they die, the ancestry goes with them.”
“Bloody ancestry.” Ehi groaned.
“We are a part of that bloody ancestry brother.” Oare teased.
Sighing, Ehi capitulated. “I’ll babysit the brat. Who knows, maybe it’ll actually be interesting. It’ll take some time though. I have to find a way into that school. We can’t all bond with her.” Ehi smiled. “Speaking of bonding, why are you leaving her again? You can stay here and watch over your precious Odion, and still share your undoubtedly fascinating bond with the girl.”
‘Precious Odion’? Oare stared at Ehi wondering what he knew. No doubt their father had shared some thoughts with Ose, and of course Ose would share it with her favorite brother. Oare shrugged. He might as well come clean. “I’m taking the oath of the oasis and moving to Seclusion to be closer to her.”
Ehi studied his brother wondering if Ose could have been telling the truth. Was their elder brother in love? Ehi threw his arm around his brother’s shoulder. “Then this visit is it for a while. Let’s go have lunch with our baby sister, and you can smuggle me out of this damned stifling place.” Oare laughed at Ehi’s words. He stopped short, freezing in shock when his brother added, “Odion is one lucky woman.”
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by Dranoid: 8:42pm On Jun 29|
Amazing work as always!
This just keeps getting better and better.
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by izicky(m): 9:44pm On Jun 29|
it's Amazing am luvng dis story
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by phoenixchap: 7:38am On Jun 30|
Back to Back..... Dope, a standing ovation for you ObehiD
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by damon147(m): 10:36pm On Jul 05|
I tip my hart for you back to back hits...
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by damon147(m): 10:36pm On Jul 05|
I tip my hat for you back to back hits...
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by obehiD: 8:03pm On Jul 06|
Thanks guys!!! Yeah, I'm having sooo much fun writing this, and I have a lot of crazy stuff coming up
Welcome to the message board @damon147 I'm glad you're enjoying it !
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by obehiD: 8:04pm On Jul 06|
St. Luke’s Mixed Boarding School, Port Harcourt, Rivers State, Nigeria
A slight push. Osezele turned around on her bed, pulling the edge of her wrapper closer towards her neck. The single push turned to a more persistent shaking. Osezele’s eyes opened slowly. She sat up in bed and the wrapper fell to her lap. Osezele blinked, her arms stretching out as she yawned. She took her time, swinging her legs down from her bed, and placed the soles of her feet against the corner floor.
The clearing of a throat drew her attention to the bed across from hers.
As Ngozi watched Osezele’s eyes slowly rise to meet hers, she forced her hands apart, refusing to fidget like she usually did when she was nervous.
Osezele’s lips twitched. She looked at Ngozi and then looked away, suddenly finding the back of her bunk fascinating. The towel hanging from the wooden rail moved slightly to the left, a sign that Seyi was moving around on her bed. The bunk bed creaked as Seyi, oblivious to the awkward silence between the two senior girls, climbed down the ladder. She smiled at Osezele before pulling the edges of her bedsheet down and tucking it into the bed frame, making the bed before she had to leave.
“Good morning.” Seyi greeted Osezele as she sat on her bunkie’s bed and pulled her running shoes out from under the bed. She made quick work out of slipping her sock-covered feet into the shoes and tying the laces. Seyi sat upright when she was done. “It’s time for sports.” She informed her bunkie, before jumping off her bed and heading for the laundry.
Osezele waited in silence, taking her time to pull her eyes from her bunkie’s departing back. She looked back at Ngozi, fully aware that Ngozi had woken her up, and wondering if Ngozi wanted to talk. They’d been living in a state of silent agreement where Ngozi only spoke to her about her prefect position. The last time they’d spoken in this corner, they’d both said things they’d come to regret. At least, Osezele had come to regret what she’d said. She hoped Ngozi did too.
Osezele laughed a little to herself when she realized how silly the pensive silence was. When once she would have been more than willing to avoid it, now she just wanted to get the ‘conversation’ out of the way. Osezele cleared her throat. “Thank you for waking me up.” She said.
Ngozi inclined her head slightly in acceptance.
Osezele sighed. “And I’m sorry I was rude to you when I absorbed all those emotions. You were right, I took advantage of our friendship and I was disrespectful. I won’t do it again.”
Ngozi’s face was a picture of utter shock. She hadn’t expected that. She frowned at Osezele, suddenly feeling resentful that she’d beaten her to the punch. Ngozi wanted to apologize, she’d handled the whole thing wrong and she knew it. The link she’d shared with Osezele was special, something she’d cherished; it had gone passed just their augur marks. So why wasn’t she apologizing? She shook her head at herself, trying to force the words out. Ngozi remained silent. “You have nothing to apologize for.” She said finally. Then she got off her bed and left the corner.
Osezele frowned at Ngozi’s back. She sat on her bed for a full minute after Ngozi left, expecting her to come back and say…what exactly, she didn’t know, but just say something. Osezele shrugged, brushing the emotion away. It really didn’t matter how Ngozi felt towards her.
Whistling, Osezele straightened her bed. She folded her wrapper neatly and placed it at the corner opposite her pillow. Then she pulled her bedsheet out at the edges and shook it off, before tucking it back in. After doing that, she bent to a squat and pulled out her box from underneath the bed. Still whistling, she drew the zips, opening the bag and took out her green sportswear. It didn’t take her much time to change out of her nightgown and into the green shirt and shorts. She put on her shoes after that and rushed over to the laundry room with her toothpaste and toothbrush. She was just about to start brushing when she heard Aishat yell, “It is time for sports!”
“Wait!” Another voice yelled louder, interrupting Aishat. Osezele increased the rate of her brushing, speeding up when she saw so many students run out of the laundry at the sound of Oke’s voice. When she heard Oke say, “I want to talk to my hostel girls” She moved her toothbrush so fast her arm hurt. Then Oke said, “If you’re in the laundry or bathroom, come out.” Osezele passed the toothbrush over her tongue and then opened the tap. She rinsed her mouth, closed the tap, and ran out of the laundry room.
Oke waited for all the students to settle around the middle of the hostel before she made her announcement. “It is inter-house sports season.” She began. “For JSS1 girls, let me explain. Inter-house sports is a sports competition between the different houses in this school. The boy and girl houses together. So, as we are in green house now, we will join with green house boys, and compete against all the other houses. We compete in marching, football, basketball, running, shot put, javelin, long jump, high jump, plus one game that the judges will decide on inter-house sport day.” Oke stopped to stare at them, her eyes scanning over each of them. “Senior students, who won the last inter-house sports?”
“Red house.” They shouted.
“The one before that nko?”
“Even before that one?”
“Green house will win this year!” Oke announced. The girls clapped, yelling at the top of their voices and stamping their feet in agreement. “Green is for?!”
“GO! GO. GO. GO AWAY!” They yelled back.
Oke smiled with pride. “Aishat is going to call the names of everyone signed up for marching. If you hear your name wait in the middle of the hostel. If you don’t hear your name, follow Ngozi to the field and we’ll see what you can do for your house this year.”
As soon as Oke was done talking, Ngozi opened the hostel door and Aishat began yelling out students’ names. Osezele walked towards her corner, deaf to the yelling going on around the hostel. She placed her toothbrush and toothpaste on the top of the rack behind her bunk, and then she walked out of her corner.
“Where are you going?”
Osezele turned around immediately, smiling when she saw that it was Aishat who’d called her. She pointed in the direction of the hostel door. “To the field.” She replied.
Aishat’s eyes narrowed as she stared suspiciously at Osezele. She stretched out the sheet of paper in her hand, pushing it close enough so Osezele could read it, and then she put her finger on the first column, second to last line. “Whose name is that?” she asked.
“Osezele Omorodion.” Osezele read out automatically. She gasped as soon as she realized she’d called out her own name. With laughing eyes, she tore her gaze from the piece of paper and looked up at Aishat. “I didn’t sign up.” She stated.
“So that’s not your name?” Aishat asked teasingly.
Osezele laughed. “It’s my name, but I don’t know how it got there. Aishat, I can’t march.”
“Have you tried?”
“I didn’t sign up!” Osezele responded in exasperation.
Aishat sighed. “If you want to go, I won’t stop you. But just know that I got this list from Oke.”
“Oke couldn’t have memorized every name on the list, could she?” Osezele asked.
“Leave the hostel, and I’m sure you’ll find out.” Aishat replied. She drew the list back and continued yelling out the names at the top of her voice, walking down the middle of the hostel as she spoke.
Osezele glared at Aishat’s back. She knew she couldn’t march. She hated…she shook her head and turned her gaze back towards the middle of the hostel. What was the worst that could happen? She wondered, as she walked towards the group of SS1 girls who had signed up. If she really couldn’t march, she’d be kicked out anyway, and if she could, she would finally get to know what it felt like to be part of a team, and have people counting on her to win. At least with marching the pressure wasn’t solely on her. Osezele smiled, letting out her breath as she listened placidly to the conversations going on around her.
They didn’t have to wait for long till Aishat was done yelling out the names, and Oke propelled them out of the hostel. They stood together on the slabs, broken up by class and formed into lines according to their heights. Osezele was in the middle of the middle row. Deep enough to not get completely humiliated, if she tripped over and fell on her face. She giggled at that thought. She wouldn’t put it past herself to actually fall down while marching.
The loud order was so unexpected, that Osezele found herself behind, casting her gaze surreptitiously from left to right to see what the other students did. Most of them rose their left legs up and stamped it back onto the ground. When the order “Left!” came again, Osezele was still getting her bearing. She rose her leg up, but it went up too slowly, and she was stamping her foot down against the floor after everyone else had. Again, the order “Left!” came, and again Osezele was out of sync.
Osezele jumped, startled by the sudden call of her name. She ran out of the lines when she saw Oke standing in front of the hostel and beckoning to her. Osezele climbed the stairs leading to the raised platform where Oke stood, looking down on the groups of marching students like a queen surveying her subjects. An angry queen. Osezele gulped nervously when she became the recipient of Oke’s glare. Osezele looked at the metal T-square Oke held in her hand and she could almost hear her heart pounding. ‘2.0’. Osezele grinned when she thought of Tolani’s words and the fear melted away. She smiled up at Oke.
“Stand at attention.” Oke ordered, ignoring the smile on Osezele’s face.
Osezele nodded. She tried to remember the last inter-house sports and how the marchers had stood. Osezele clenched both of her hands into fists and put her arms by her side. She lifted her head and waited.
“Straighten your back.” Ordered Oke.
Osezele’s shoulders drew back and her chest came out. She stood still, fighting the urge to turn as Oke circled her.
“Left!” Oke ordered.
Osezele’s left leg rose sharply in the air. Or so she thought.
“Your thigh and your lower leg need to be perpendicular. Your leg has to go up, so that your knee is on the same level as your hip.” Oke corrected. Osezele nodded. “Left!” Osezele rose her left leg up, keeping her leg as perpendicular as she could. “Keep your back straight.” Oke ordered. She stretched out the metal ruler in her hand and held it at the same level as Osezele’s hip. “I want your thigh to hit this ruler. Left!” Osezele cast her bent leg up. “Keep your back straight.” Oke repeated patiently. “Left!” Osezele’s leg came up and went down. “Left!” Osezele’s thigh hit the ruler and went back down.
Osezele’s left leg began to rise before the words registered. She switched to her right leg before her left went back down. The sudden change knocked her off balance and she would have fallen down if Oke’s hand hadn’t gone out to support her.
“Right!” Oke ordered again, and this time Osezele got the right leg.
Osezele’s legs didn’t quite touch the ruler, but they got close. When Oke repeated the drill, her legs soared up, hitting the ruler with so much force it actually moved up, and stomping back to the ground. Osezele smiled with pride at herself. Oke didn’t stop, she kept repeating the drills, over and over again till Osezele was marching without hearing the words. She rose bent legs in the air, kept her back straight and didn’t even notice when the ruler disappeared. A startling thought occurred to her as she marched on the spot. She enjoyed it.
“Halt!” Oke ordered. The coordinated stamping of feet that followed that order came instinctually to Osezele. “Come.” Oke moved down the stairs and Osezele followed her, surprised to see that the students had been formed back into a single pile on the slab at the base of the stairs. The number of students marching had reduced drastically. There was about a quarter of them left. Osezele walked with Oke to the front of the group. Oke pointed at a spot in front of the front row, and Osezele took it.
Oke’s voice rose announcing, “Mark your positions. After food we’ll continue. For now, go to the field.” She ordered, before turning to Osezele. Oke moved to speak, but her words were cut off by the sound of excited clapping coming from behind her. They both turned to the source of the sound as the group of marchers disbanded.
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by obehiD: 8:05pm On Jul 06|
“I told you she’d be good.” The conceit practically oozed out of Tolani as she spoke.
Oke just laughed. “Yes, you did.” Oke’s eyes narrowed as she took in Tolani’s red sportswear. “This is a green zone.” She chided.
“Can I at least talk to my friend?” Tolani asked.
“Talk to her as you walk to the field.” Oke replied.
Tolani looped her arm in Osezele’s beaming at her as they walked. Osezele just had to look at that smug face and she knew. “You signed me up for marching.” She stated.
Tolani laughed. “You owed me. Now we’re even.”
Osezele hissed lightly. She shook her head at Tolani, but she couldn’t find the will to be indignant. So, she chose to laugh with her best friend instead. They walked hand in hand, passed the block of hostels, to the huge St. Luke’s field. They separated when they got to the field where Osezele was, not so gently, prodded towards the circle of green house students who were lining up to begin the races.
She groaned when she reached them. Every year, every student in green house from JSS1 to SS2, was forced to compete against each other in these 100-meter races and the winners were chosen to represent the house running in the final inter-house sports competition against the other houses. Every year, she ran in these races and lost. Every single year. Did they have to keep testing them? If she couldn’t run last year, why would she magically be able to run this time?
Osezele stifled her irritation, waiting with the group of students till it was her turn to run. When the time came, she stood to the furthest left of the line. “On your mark!” A student announced, and all of them standing on the line, dropped to their knee, placing both hands on the floor. “Get set!” The announcement came, and the students rose, still bending at the waist as they prepared to run. Osezele cast a quick glance to the right and almost laughed when she saw that she’d been put with some of the best runners in her house. She might as well just walk, she thought, at least that way her defeat would only be humiliating because she chose to make it so. She chuckled to herself, thinking she might just do that. If nothing else, it would give the other students a good laugh, and wasn’t she just thinking about being a team player? She could definitely take one for the team. Then the memory of Oke and her metal T-square flashed through Osezele’s mind, and she reconsidered. She wasn’t a big enough team player to die for the team.
The yell startled Osezele. She jumped to her feet after the others and prepared to run as fast as she could to the other end of the field. Osezele put her left foot on the ground in front of her, then threw her right foot down after it. She moved to repeat the action and a huge gush of wind blew past her. Only, it wasn’t going past her, it seemed to be moving with her, as if she was somehow part of the wind, as though it carried her. She looked behind her, startled to see that somehow, she had overtaking the other runners. Before she even had time to process this startling discovery, she was standing alone on the other side of the field. She turned around and a good five seconds passed before the next runner joined her, and the rest came tumbling in almost at once after. Osezele looked down at her legs, her mouth agape as she stared in puzzlement at feet she could almost swear hadn’t once touched the ground, and then the empty field of grass separating where she stood now from where she’d been before.
All at once, the group of green house onlookers exploded in a frenzy of excitement. Osezele found herself thrown in the air and lifted onto the arms and shoulders of a faceless mob. “Green house runners…” One boy’s voice sounded from the left of the group carrying her. And the mob broke into song in response to the prompt. “Blazing through the trail, if you come our way, we will cut your tail. Eh! Green house runners, blazing through the trail, if you come our way, we will cut your tail. Eh! Green. House. Life! Aye! Green. House. Life! Aye! Green. House. Life. Aye! Aye!! Aye!!!” Each yell of ‘Aye’ was punctuated with Osezele’s body being lifted high into the air. Osezele let out her breath when they reached the other end of the field, and the mob put her down.
She soon found out that her relief was destined to be short-lived as a group of green house girls came tumbling into her, those closest hugging her and those who couldn’t reach, stretching to pat her back with a furor she hadn’t experienced before. And all this because she won a race? She thought to herself, as the students kept pushing to get to her.
“Green is for GO. GO. GO. GO AWAY!” the green house students around her yelled out.
“Red is for FIRST. First no fit carry last!” the chant soared in the air, a mocking challenge by red house students gathering close to the group of green.
“Get out!” Oke ordered the crowd of students who were, no doubt, choking her star. “Get out of my way, or this T-square will knack your head.” She warned. The students parted, but not before they glanced back to make sure that she was indeed willing to follow through on that threat. One look at her face showed she was.
Osezele exhaled when they left her alone. They didn’t go too far though, they remained within hearing distance. So, when Oke threw her arm around Osezele’s shoulder and moved her towards the school block, warning the other students not to follow, Osezele smiled. They kept walking till they got to the edge of the junior block. Oke gestured towards the raised platform and Osezele sat.
“My star! Rest, let the amateurs run. Don’t worry, nobody will disturb you.”
Tolani appeared then, sitting on the corridor next to Osezele. Oke glared at her with narrowed eyes. “What are you doing here, red house? Leave my star joh.”
“Ah!” Tolani exclaimed. “I’m not red house oh, I’m just Tolani now. Please Oke, let me keep my best friend company. Don’t worry, I’ll be like a blockade, nobody will come pass me to disturb your star.” When Oke still didn’t seem convinced, Tolani added. “I’m also like glucose, I can recharge her system.” Oke narrowed her eyes one more time in warning, and then she turned around and walked away, back to supervise the rest of the races.
Tolani waited till Oke was too far to hear, before turning to Osezele. “What was that?” she asked.
Osezele turned to face Tolani. “I don’t know.” She replied. She shook her head. Think. She giggled to herself, hearing that voice again. Oh, it had been so long since she’d heard her blue place, the consortium of all her witch marks which lived in her and which had helped her fight the imps she’d absorbed when she’d taken all those emotions. Think. “It felt like I was being carried by the wind. It had to be my elemental witch mark. What do you think? Did my eyes turn blue?”
Tolani stared with admiration at Osezele, impressed by her deductions. “Your elemental mark. That would make sense. Somehow you must have been controlling the wind, using it to push yourself forward.” She frowned, thinking about the last question. “Did I see your eyes?” she asked rhetorically. “I didn’t even see your legs, talkless of seeing your eyes. The race started and before I could blink, you were already on the other side of the field.”
Osezele laughed at the look on Tolani’s face. She knew Tolani was exaggerating. At least she hoped she was. There was no way running that fast wouldn’t be noticed. She had to slow down.
“I don’t know what type of magic you were using, but whatever it was, you’d better not do it again.”
Osezele and Tolani’s heads snapped up together in unison. Tolani frowned at the boy in red sports clothes who looked down at Osezele. “And who are you?” she asked.
“You know who I am Tolani.” He said, before turning back to Osezele. “I understand that you have very powerful magic, but you can’t use it like that.”
Osezele’s lips pulled apart as she prepared to explain. She didn’t get the chance. Tolani cut in before she could. “This is none of your business Elliot. Just because you’re a healing witch, you think you understand all types of witch magic? Why would Osezele risk exposing her mark?” Tolani fired back at the boy.
Elliot took his attention back to Tolani. His lips twitched as he focused on the sound of her pounding heart. She made quite the picture when she was angry. “Witch?” He repeated the word, only letting out a smidgen of disgust with it. He didn’t have anything against witches, just being mistaken for one. He focused on that beating heart and let himself lose a little bit of control, just as he’d been taught by his family. He may not be an alpha, may not have the gift of full control, but even a beta could learn enough to show off for a pretty girl. Elliot allowed himself to get carried away by that heart. He heaved, breathing in slowly as he began to go into his mark. He let himself loose just a little bit, enough for his eyes to change to that shade of brown that showed what he was. And then he got back under control. He winked at Tolani when he came out of it.
Tolani smiled. This time when her heart pounded, it wasn’t in anger. Discreetly, she studied the boy standing in front of her. His skin was light brown, not as light as Lami’s, but not as dark as hers. His red sport shirt was stretched out by a broad chest, and the sleeves of his shirt strained against the bulge of muscles in his upper arm. Her eyes rose to his face, and what a face it was, crowned by the waviest hair she’d ever seen. She smiled even wider when her eyes met his. “Nice control.” She praised grudgingly. “For a beta.”
Elliot chuckled. “Nice smile. For a spitfire.” He replied, moving to sit by Osezele before Tolani came up with a response. “What happened? Are you okay?” He didn’t really know the girl, but he was friends with Nosa and everyone knew how Nosa felt about her. Everyone but the girl in question of course, he thought to himself as he focused his attention on her. A task which became a lot harder when Tolani moved close enough he could see her out of the side of his eye.
“I just found a type of ‘magic’ I didn’t even know I had.” Osezele confessed.
Elliot nodded. “The first time is a fluke. They probably won’t remember it. But if you’re going to run again, knowing Oke you can’t get out of that now, you need to learn how to control it. And you need to learn fast.”
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by Dranoid: 9:59pm On Jul 06|
This part got me laughing hard!
Tolani haff find boyfriend! (Nairaland needs more emojis!)
Ngozi should just grow up.
Well it seems osezele is now sportswoman of the year
It's really interesting seeing each mark showing different and exciting abilities, it kind of makes non of them useless. Speaking of marks............a werewolf and an elemental witch in a race, who will win?
ObehiD back with another banger!
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by phoenixchap: 5:55pm On Jul 08|
ObehiD, nice one but there no amount to enough for this story
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by obehiD: 7:31pm On Jul 10|
@phoenixchap hahaha thank you
@dranoid Yay! I loved that part too. I was thinking about taking it out because sometimes I think my sense of humor is too weird to subject other people to. So thanks for letting me know it isn't lol
As to the werewolf vs elemental witch in a race...hmmm...that's an interesting question. I would definitely put my money behind the elemental witch (they have the wind on their side ). Not that it's totally up to me, every once in a while a marked comes along to beat even the worst odds.
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by obehiD: 2:06am On Jul 14|
The Community, Benin City, Edo State, Nigeria
They stood on the balcony looking down at the main hall underneath. The hall beneath them had a three-tiered semi-circular marble dais at the front. There were empty rows of seats by the stage, turned so that their occupants would face the rest of the packed hall. About a foot of thick silver lace separated the seats in the front of the room from the ones behind. Behind that rug, there were rows of seats, already filled with people, partitioned into two sides by an empty aisle. Odion remembered the leather material in the clothes those people wore. They were dressed like the guards who’d accompanied Efua in her earlier visions. Odion stared fascinated by the walls of painted glass and the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.
“They’re here!” Toju whispered excitedly to Itohan.
The people on the floor of the hall rose from their seats and turned so they faced the aisle. Odion leaned down, watching as the procession began. She could only see the back of their heads as the velvet clad people made their way to the front of the hall. The front lines of the procession were filled with little children.
“Those are the descendants of the Enikaro.” Toju explained, her fascinated gaze devouring its subjects. “The youngest to the oldest.” The procession reached the front, and the children stood in front of their seats, the little ones positioned at the front, closest to the silver rug.
“Those are the In-betweens, the descendants who’ve passed their childhood but are not yet passed their prime. They could still be part of the clan of rulers.” As Toju spoke, the procession of clothes changed. Where once the children had worn bare velvet, the ones walking now wore velvet lined with gold, and had white beads around their necks and wrists. Once they reached the front of the hall, they didn’t go behind the rows of younger ones, they went to the chairs by the side of the dais. Ejehmen, stood at the front of those side seats.
“Those are the descendants who’ve passed their prime. The ones who are too old to rule.” The gold on the clothes of those proceeding forward, faded back to bare velvet, and the beads they wore were black.
The processions stopped.
The hall of people bowed in unison as trumpets blared and the sound of beating drums filled the air. “The clan of rulers.” Toju stated.
Eight people walked down the aisle, all dressed in red and white velvet. They climbed up to the first level of the dais and stood in front of the brown leather thrones. “Menovies.” Toju explained, gesturing towards the new occupants of the stage. “The conclave of princes.”
The rhythm of the drums changed as the people in the hall knelt. Some knelt with a single knee touching the ground and their heads bowed in the V of their arm. The others knelt with both knees touching the ground and both hands on the floor. The descendants in velvet kept standing, but they bowed, bending at the waist till their hand touched the floor. The princes on the stage bowed at the shoulder as another set of people walked down the aisle.
“The congress of kings!” Toju yelled, shouting to be heard over the loud screams emanating from the throng of onlookers around them. They were like a crazed mob, throwing down flower petals at the sight of the five people dressed in snow-white velvet, walking down the aisle. Those five climbed onto the dais. Four of them stopped by the white leather thrones lined with silver on the second tier of the stage. Only one rose to the very top of the dais, to the throne lined with gold. She sat. The second tier sat after she did. Then the third tier. Then the descendants. Then the rest of the hall. The mob stopped screaming, though those on the balcony remained standing. There were no chairs up there.
“You couldn’t get us a spot with seats?” Itohan teased.
Toju shook her head. “Only the ancestry sits during these things.”
“They are all ancestry?” Itohan asked, her mouth hanging open as she stared down at the crowd of people underneath them. Toju nodded. Itohan’s mouth closed. She frowned.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be ancestry soon enough.” Toju responded with a smile.
Itohan shook her head. “Trust me, I’m marrying Ejehmen in spite of his family.” She said dryly.
Toju’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Itohan. “Have you told him that?”
Itohan’s frown deepened. She nodded. “He just kept quiet. I don’t understand it. He’s not like the rest of them. He’s normal. He could live a normal life if he chose to, work like a normal person, but this is the life he chooses.”
“It’s not a choice Itohan. Ejehmen is an Ehizokhae. Even amongst the Enikaro, there are family names that mean more than others.”
“It’s always a choice Toju. The unmarked world has it right. They’ve seen the ramifications of monarchy. Aren’t we supposed to be more enlightened? This is the only community in the world without democratic rule. That’s why InCoSeM was formed. Other communities have elected councils. Why do we need a Queen?”
Toju sighed, shaking her head at Itohan. “She’s not a queen, she’s the head of the congress of kings. She’s the daughter of Duraya, Nature’s own. The Enikaro isn’t just a monarchy, and InCoSeM isn’t the redemption you make it sound like. You should speak to your fiancé. Marrying into the ancestry is not like any other marriage. It’s a lifetime commitment, a bloodline oath. One that shouldn’t be made lightly.”
Itohan turned away from Toju. She placed her right hand on her belly and sighed.
Odion took her gaze from the set of her mother’s taut shoulders, back to the floor underneath them. While Itohan and Toju spoke, a podium had been erected at the front of the aisle, behind the silver rug. On the right side of the rug, there stood a group of people professionally dressed, their grey suits standing out in the hall of velvet and leather. People turned around in their seats, watching as a man dressed in a white shirt and black pants, walked down the aisle, escorted by two leather clad guards. The man climbed onto the podium and the guards faded into the throng of seated ancestry viewers.
A door in front of the hall opened, revealing a hidden passageway. Out of this passage came a number of people in wrappers. The first was an old woman. She had on a wreath of white and red beads on her head, a net of shoulder coral beads which reached the tops of the red velvet wrapper tied around her chest, and a string of wrist and ankle beads. A much younger girl walked behind her, a little child with a red velvet wrapper tied around her chest and beads adorning her neck, wrists and ankles. The child carried an empty calabash in both hands as she walked behind the older woman towards the podium. A young man walked behind the child. He had a leather wrapper tied around his waist and coral beads hanging from his neck. On his head, there was a mark of a pentagon with a star in it.
“Who is the little girl?” Itohan asked Toju in a whisper.
“Her name is Efua. She’s training to take over as Iwebo, the high priest of Duraya. She is a descendant of the Enikaro, one of Ejehmen’s many cousins.”
“That man behind her. He looks like the one who fought Ejehmen during that first bolokhon match. The elemental coven member.”
Toju nodded. “He’s the one. He is ancestry, a priest of Duraya.”
Their attention shifted back to the hall where the child Efua had stopped behind the old woman standing by the podium. Her eyes were blue as she raised the calabash in the air. The calabash filled with water. Efua brought the calabash down and turned around, to the man standing behind her. His eyes had gone blue too. A black rock appeared in his hand. He drew the sharp edge of the rock over his palm, cutting a wound open, and extended the hand over the calabash. He clenched his hand into a fist as drops of blood flowed from him into the calabash. Efua pulled the calabash away, turning back around. She moved the calabash so that it was supported with her left hand. Efua put her right hand into the water, and fire came out. When she pulled her hand out, the fire went away, leaving only the water. Efua held the calabash out to the old woman who’d now turned to receive it.
“Drink this ame, juice of the elements, and know that you are bound to the truth.” She extended the calabash to the man standing on the podium and he took it. With shaking hands, he lifted the calabash to his lips and tipped it over, drinking the water in the bowl. Then he gave it back to the old woman.
Efua and the old woman walked away, back towards the hidden passage in the front of the room. An older man seated at the back of the front rows of seats, wearing velvet with black beads which marked him as passed his prime, stood and walked towards the podium.
“Who brings this case to the Enikaro?” the man asked, standing in front of the podium, closer to the raised dais.
“The Asaba community.” A woman from the group of professionally dressed people standing on the silver rug replied.
“Why should the Enikaro hear this case?”
“He has committed a crime against Nature. He is responsible for the deaths of ten children.”
The man nodded. “The Enikaro will hear the case. Who amongst you will act as the client’s proponent?”
The people in the group shook their heads. Some shrugging their shoulders, some snapping their fingers in a ‘God-forbid’ gesture. “We are all here against him.”
“Then the client will have an ancestry proponent.” The man announced.
A young man seated in the center of the hall stood up. He walked towards the front of the room and knelt on both knees in front of the dais. He bowed his head when his hands touched the floor, then stood. “I will act as proponent.” He announced. The moderator nodded in acceptance. “The proponent asks for a shroud of solitude to confer with my client.”
The moderator turned to the dais. When the woman seated at the top level nodded, he announced. “The clan of rulers grants the proponent’s request.”
The young man with the pentagon mark on his forehead moved toward the podium. He stamped his right foot on the floor and waved his arms in a circular motion, moving his body as he did. A thick fog of air rose in a circle around the podium, starting from the floor and reaching the ceiling of the hall.
“She looks so different sitting up there in her throne of power.” Itohan gestured with her head towards the top level of the dais.
“Sometimes I forget that you actually know the God-born.” Toju replied.
The thick fog faded away, bringing the podium back to view.
“We begin.” The moderator announced. “Ozioma Osinachi.” He turned towards the man on the podium. “You are being tried for the murder of ten children.”
“The proponent asks that the term ‘murder’ be modified to ‘manslaughter’.”
The group of people to the right yelled out in disagreement. “No!”
The moderator frowned at the unruly group. “Outbursts are not tolerated in trials before the Enikaro.” He scolded the group. The moderator waited for them to settle before he asked, “Do the opponents agree to this change?”
“No, we do not.” One of them replied.
“Would the proponent like to modify his request?”
“The proponent asks that the term ‘murder’ be modified to ‘voluntary and involuntary deaths’.”
“Do the opponents agree to this change?”
The group turned to each other speaking underneath their breaths. “Yes, we do.” They said finally.
The moderator nodded. “Ozioma Osinachi, you are being tried for the voluntary and involuntary deaths of ten children.”
“The proponent asks that the involuntary deaths be ruled out.”
“Ah ah!” “No!” The group yelled out.
“The opponents will not be warned against outbursts again.” The moderator snapped. “Do the opponents agree to this request?”
“No!” they yelled out in unison.
“Would the proponent like to modify his request?”
“The proponent would like to expound on the request.” The moderator nodded. “The proponent asks that the involuntary deaths be ruled out, because they occurred during the client’s first transformations. He had no control over himself and the children killed were in the same age range as he was. It would be inhumane, to punish him for something he could not stop.”
“Hearing the explanation, do the opponents agree to this request?”
“Would the proponent like to modify his request?”
“The proponent asks for a resolution from the conclave of princes.”
The moderator turned towards the dais. The people on the first tier of the stage spoke amongst themselves for a while and then they nodded. The one closest to the podium passed the ruling. “The conclave of princes grants the proponent’s request.”
|Re: The Marked:white Sight_the In Between_a Nigerian Paranormal Fantasy Fiction Book by obehiD: 2:07am On Jul 14|
Again, the group yelled out in disagreement, arguing over themselves, shouting their refusal of the ruling.
“The delegation from the Asaba community is hereby removed from this trial. They will be represented by an ancestry opponent.”
A woman stood from the hall and walked towards the dais. She knelt in greeting as the proponent had done, when she reached them. Then she stood. “I will act as opponent.” She stated. The moderator nodded, and she proceeded to the group on the rug.
“Does the opponent accept the ruling of the conclave of princes?” the moderator asked.
The woman turned to the group standing behind her, all shaking their heads vigorously. She spoke with them for a while. Then she turned back around to the moderator. “Though not fully resolved to the decision, the opponent accepts the ruling of the conclave of princes, and thanks them for their quick deliberation on the issue.”
The people in the balcony snickered.
“Ozioma Osinachi, how many children did you kill during your first transformations?”
“All ten.” The man on the podium replied. As soon as the words left his lips, he cried out in pain. His fingers raked through his hair as he screamed.
“The proponent begs for mercy!” Silence. “The proponent begs for mercy!”
The God-born nodded. The yelling stopped.
“The client will answer honestly. Ozioma Osinachi, how many children did you kill during your first transformations?”
“Six.” He snapped out the response.
“Ozioma Osinachi, you are being tried for the voluntary deaths of four children.”
“The opponent requests that the term ‘voluntary deaths’ be changed to ‘profitable murder’.”
“Does the proponent agree to this request?”
“The proponent requests that the term ‘profitable murder’ be changed to ‘advantageous or disadvantageous deaths’.”
“Does the opponent agree to this request?”
“The opponent requests that the term ‘advantageous or disadvantageous deaths’ be changed to ‘advantageous or disadvantageous killings’.”
“Does the proponent agree to this request?”
“The proponent agrees.”
“Ozioma Osinachi, you are being tried for the advantageous or disadvantageous killings of four children.”
“The opponent requests that the client be required to specify which out of the four killings where not either emotionally or financially advantageous.”
“Does the proponent agree to this request?”
“The proponent does not agree.”
“Would the opponent like to modify this request?”
“The opponent asks for a resolution from the conclave of princes.”
Without much deliberation one of the obos replied, “The conclave of princes grants the opponent’s request.”
“Does the proponent accept the ruling of the conclave of princes?” the moderator asked.
“The proponent graciously accepts the ruling.”
“Ozioma Osinachi, which out of the four killings where not either emotionally or financially advantageous to you?”
“None of them were advanta…Ah!” This time the pain sent him to his knees.
“The proponent begs for mercy!” Silence. “The proponent begs for mercy!” More Silence. “The proponent begs for mercy!” No response.
The man’s groans filled the air as seconds rolled into minutes. Finally, the God-born nodded and the pain went away. The man stopped screaming.
“The client will answer honestly. Ozioma Osinachi, which out of the four killings where not either emotionally or financially advantageous to you?”
“The client will answer. Ozioma Osinachi, which out of the four killings where not either emotionally or financially advantageous to you?”
“None of them.” He spat out.
“Ozioma Osinachi, you are being tried for the emotionally and, or, financially advantageous killings of four children.”
“The proponent asks that a prolonged trial be heard with a detailed account of the circumstance of each killing.”
“Is that smart?” Itohan asked as the moderator spoke. “Does the opponent agree to this request?”
“It can’t hurt.” Toju replied. “A prolonged trial means the proponent gets a chance to twist the client’s words. He may be required to tell the truth, but you’ll be surprised how well the most vicious act can be coated by a good proponent.”
“The opponent does not agree. The opponent asks for an expedited ruling on the basis of the client’s own confession to the emotionally and financially motivated killings of four, FOUR, children.”
“The matter is taken to the conclave of princes.” The moderator stated.
The conclave of princes spoke, some shaking their heads, others nodding. They kept arguing amongst themselves for a while until they finally seemed to reach a consensus. “The conclave of princes agrees to the proponent’s request of a prolonged trial.”
The moderator nodded. “Does the opponent accept the ruling of the conclave of princes?”
The opponent bowed to the stage. “With all due respect, the opponent asks that the matter be taken to the congress of kings.”
The people in white on the second tier of the stage turned towards the God-born as they spoke. They reached an agreement very quickly. One of them spoke. “Taking the life of a child is a crime against Nature. There is no justification for such a crime. The client’s own confession has sealed his fate. And as such, an expedited ruling will be given.”
“The proponent requests that the ruling come from the conclave of princes.”
“The opponent agrees.”
The moderator nodded. “The opponent and proponent are excused.” Both bowed and returned to their seats as the moderator went back to his.
An obo, one of the members of the conclave of princes, stood up. “Ozioma Osinachi, by your own confession you are found guilty of the emotionally and, or, financially advantageous killings of four children. You are sentenced to the spectral existence.”
The man in the podium shook his head. He took a large step back. His back hit the wooden railing locking him in. “No!” he yelled out as one of the young women in velvet stood from the front of the room and walked towards him.
“Today she gains her sight.” Toju remarked.
“What?” Itohan asked.
“The only way to send that man into the spectral existence is taking him out of this one. Which means he has to die. When we die, we either go to Duraya, the imps, or nothingness. This man is going to join the imps.”
“Imps? I thought that was a folktale, a horror story. Has anyone ever seen them?”
“To see an imp, you have to create an imp. One of the ways to create an imp is to kill someone with commune magic. So, the only people who can see imps are communes who’ve gained the sight, by taking a life using their mark.”
It was quick. The young woman’s eyes blazed red for the seconds it took her to kill the man standing in the podium. It happened so fast, the man didn’t even have a chance to scream. The cry that filled the hall was the one the woman let out as dark rings formed in her eyes.
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