The ascending throne remained empty after the sudden and tragic death of its previous occupant; Oba Akintade the fourth.

The truth be told, the Oba Kabiyesi did not die a death befitting of royalty.

Many of his subjects, and quite a number from the opposition families, would secretly agree that he didn’t deserve one.

However, it seemed that ever since the townspeople awoke to the lifeless body of their king dangling above his throne by a rope around his neck; the ascending throne had been well and truly cursed.

After the passing of the Oba kabiyesi, the people of Apoti Orisa nla; the capital city of the Middlelands, had then tried on three different occasions to appoint a new ruler to the vacant seat.

Unfortunately, at each attempt, the heir apparent had met with a swift and harrowing death before he could ascend the throne.

The three ‘would be’ kings were promising sons chosen from prominent royal families; seeing as the late king fathered no son to succeed him.

The first to be chosen was found dead in his chamber, the morning before the acceptance ritual for the coronation would have taken place.

The word was he had retired early to his bed after the evening festivities; in a foul mood and muttering to himself, and he simply hadn’t woken up to a new day.

After a brief investigation, it was found there had been no suggestion of foul play.

His death was ruled as a suicide: suicide by madness it seemed.

Unbelievably, the very next day, the second royal son fell on his own weapon in a training accident.

A normally excellent swordsman, he had stubbed his toe while running and had accidentally landed on his blade.

In a freakish moment, the point had skewered his throat to the hilt and he had bled to death before a crowd of eyewitnesses.

On seeing this, the third prince was quickly secreted away from the public by his family. He was taken to a hidden shrine; a place

where continuous sacrifices were made to appease the gods.

For ten days and nights, ten fatted cows were offered to the gods; their blood was sprinkled over the earth for the unseen malevolent entities to feed upon and assuage their appetites.

Alas! It was to no avail.

On the coronation day, as he was dancing to the rhythm of the talking drums and shuffling towards the throne to sit upon it, he suddenly clutched at his chest.

He slumped and was dead before his body hit the ground.


From one end to the distant other; the Middlelands was shocked into silence.

The people’s fears, well hidden before, was now as palpable as morning dew on fresh growing grass.

How could this be? And most importantly, what did this mean? Were they no more favored by the gods? Had Olodumare the divine creator forsaken them?

They wailed and lamented, and they tore out their hair in grief, but there were to be no answers forthcoming from the heavens.


And so the ascending throne remained empty as time passed, the seasons came and went, and a once prosperous province of Yorubaland began to decline into poverty.

They were soon set upon by famine and pestilence, and both objectively set about their work of claiming the lives of the weak and unfortunate.

People fled in droves to the neighboring Upperlands, and even to the ever foreboding Lowlands, just to get away from the curse of the ascending throne.

For those who remained behind, their faith in the gods was put to the test like never before.

Yet, they remained steadfast with their offerings.

They did not forsake the gods.

They offered sacrifices from their dwindling livestock and continued unerringly to pray to the heavens, day after day.

Until the awaited day came when the gods finally answered their cries...

It came as a vision.

It was Orisa Orunmila the keeper of Ifa oracle, and the right hand of Olodumare the omnipotent, who came to Ile to visit the high-priest while he slumbered at his shrine.

The deity was clad in white.

His countenance was that of sadness even though he was surrounded by a halo of light which could only be described as euphoric.

The high-priest fell flat on his face in reverence and cried out

“Irunmole o! Why have you deserted us your children? We are suffering and we are dying, we beseech you! Favor us once again with your divine grace and forgive us our transgressions.”


For a moment nothing happened, but then the deity slowly stooped down and placed a gentle hand on his head.

He was filled with a sudden and intense elation as everything became clear.

It was like a ray of sunlight had shone through the curtains of his mind and illuminated his inner-sight.

The unknown became known...

It was no news that a little over forty years ago, the late Oba Akintade had murdered his own twin brother in order to become king.

There had been a great scandal and in the ensuing uproar some nobles and members of the Elder council had risen to defy him, but the usurper was nothing if not ruthless.

those he couldn’t bribe he made a spectacle of in a public beheading.

With such a show of force the Middlelands was forced to reluctantly accept the new king; and with the passage of time the unjust deed was soon forgotten.

replaced by the latest rigors of life.

Nevertheless, there was a secret nobody knew.

It was a secret of great importance, and it was being revealed for the first time in over forty full-seasons.

The deposed king, helped by loyal vassals, had managed to save his queen before she partook in his terrible fate.

She had fled the city carrying his child in her belly, and since that eventful day she had neither been seen nor heard from again.

Her disappearance had baffled the township; it appeared she had fallen from the face of Ile into a bottomless abyss.

He now knew different, he knew she had been spirited away deep into the bowels of the Lowlands.

He also knew she had birthed a girl who was now grown, and whom in turn had given birth to a boy.

t was the boy: the blue-blooded one, the one ordained by Olorun and whom the Irunmole had chosen, who was to sit on the ascending throne as Oba of the Middlelands.

he gods had spoken; there was no way around it, the boy had to be found...

pls let me know if you guys are interested in reading more. its a short story.

They set out at sundown the next day.

The high-priest and his young apprentice, who was aptly named Ade-ajaoye the gifted one.

They were both escorted by twelve of the fiercest and most loyal warriors in the land.

All were armed as if for a great battle.

They carried swords, spears, axes, and were also adorned with all sorts of charms of aggression.

They also took with them a wooden chest full of gold trinkets, and rare colorful gems, knowing there might be need for such bounty at some point during the journey.

This expedition was to take them deep into the heart of the notorious Lowlands.

This was a place full of dangers.

The very much dreaded Ewele resided in those bushes, not to speak of the various otherworldly entities they might encounter along the way in the dead of night.

Traveling northward; the journey to the boundaries took three days.

On the evening of the third day, they made camp on one of the colossal boulders that served as a demarcation between the lands.

A few yards away was the sheer drop that led down into the vast and misty Igbinle forest.

From where they rested they could see a dense canopy of treetops peeking out from the blanket of mist.

Illuminated by a crescent moon, the forest stretched out before them as far as the eye could see.

It was a definite picturesque moment, full of meaning and implications.

On the morrow they would descend into uncertainty; for now they were content just to take in the beautiful scenery.

Suddenly a loud bloodcurdling cry cut through the silence, “Eweeelelelelelelele!” a few feet away a flock of startled birds took off screeching from a tree.

“Eweeeleelelelelelele!” there was another cry, but this time from a different direction.

They froze for a moment; they knew what manner of beast made such a cry.

They were safe tonight, the Ewele could not climb steep rock surfaces or cross over running waters, but tomorrow was a different matter entirely.


During the night, Ade-ajaoye the young apprentice had a vivid dream.

He dreamt that the deity Orunmila came to him while he slept.

The Orisa floated to him standing on a disc of white light, and he was bathed in an aura of almost blinding light as he stretched out a hand to him.

“Come with me.” a voice spoke in his head.

He took the hand and stepped onto the disc; they immediately began to levitate.


They rose high above the treetops; until his head brushed against the clouds.

They floated into the night, and for the first time he saw Great-Ile as the birds saw it, the mountains, the streams and the valleys.


The disc of light conveyed them until everything became a blur.

Night turned to day, and then back to night.

They flew across a large body of water such as he had never seen, it stretched out in all directions until it's borders met the sky.

They soon lost sight of land but carried on till it seemed they had reached the very borders of Ile, a place where the earth fell off into the universe and became one with the seven heavens.

Finally, they came across land.

Oh! What a land it was.

Everything was enormous.

They were dwarfed by the trees and the greenery, even the crescent moon seemed a hundred times larger.

It was certainly a place of giants.

They did not stop until they arrived at the base of an Iroko tree.

Looking up he could see the tree trunk reaching high into the sky until the branches were swallowed up by the clouds.

An opening materialized and they passed through and made their way deep down until they arrived at the roots.

It was at that moment that he saw it, and he immediately recognized it for what it was.

Agbara! A solitary black clay-like pot sat before them on a raised golden pedestal .

“Take it, it’s yours” the voice spoke in his head, and he found himself moving involuntary towards the pot.

The lid began to bubble and froth as he moved closer.

He placed both hands on the handle as the voice spoke for one last time, “And with this gift you have been bestowed, you shall be the protector of the king.”

The pot suddenly moved on it’s own volition, as if impatient for his touch, and fell from its golden mount.

It shattered before his feet...

I enjoy dis story die

thanks

Ade-ajaoye was jolted awake by the dream.

He lay back down to allow his racing heart to settle.

What did it all mean? Had he really been visited by Orisa Orunmila? But he was not given time to fully contemplate the events of the night, a hand shook him gently to awaken him.

It was dawn and it was time to go.

Traversing down the steep mountain took the better part of the day, and by the time they reached Igbinle forest the sun was already setting.

They rested only a few moments before setting out once again; there would be no camping in this part of the woods.

It was too unpredictable.

They trekked deeper into the forest.

Their visibility was hindered by mist and darkness, and they only got an occasional glimpse of the moon in areas where the treetops were less dense.

They hastened to a famous high rise of rocks situated a little distance away. It was called Imota, the place where Akole-wa the legendary hunter had slain the unearthly serpent Itolo.

A heroic act which had sanctified the grounds making it a safe haven for travelers in an otherwise dangerous territory.

This was where they intended to take refuge for the night, once there, even the mosquitoes would not bite.

Some would later say it was mere happenstance that made the normally surefooted Ade-ajaoye lose his balance and go sprawling to the ground at that exact moment.

These people know nothing about the ways of the gods.

Unexpectedly, he snagged his toe on an old tree root and went flying headfirst into a clump of bushes.

He looked around him and realized that something seemed off.

Recognizing fresh drops of blood he immediately raised his hand to halt the party.

One of the traits that made the ewele so fearsome was their seemingly supernatural ability to camouflage into their surroundings.

The high-priest stepped forward and inspected the blood stains.

The signs did not look good. Quickly, he reached under the folds of his garment and produced his channeling-horn.

The black, glistening, talisman seemed to come alive in his hand as he worded the incantation to cast ‘Ishiri’ the revealing spell.

There was a slight tremor in the air as the spell, magnified by the channeling horn, took effect.

All that was hidden became revealed in an instant.

They all stood rooted to the spot by what the spell unfolded.

Unbeknownst to them they had walked right into the lair of the Ewele; they stood right in the heart of a death zone.

The Forrest floor was littered with bones and turned dark with dried blood and gore.

Then came the stench, an overpowering smell of excrement mixed with the odious scent of the Ewele.

It was enough to make the most seasoned ones amongst them retch.

However, this happened to be the least of their problems.

It had taken a few moments for the ewele to become aware of their presence only because they had been busy feasting on other prey.

Nevertheless, in the half-light, the one-eyed beasts were quick to notice the intruders.

They turned and came at them, snarling with claws extended, truly a terrible sight to behold.

There was hardly enough time.

The high-priest raised his channeling-horn to his lips and cast another spell.

“Idaru!” he uttered in a commanding voice and the resulting effect was instantaneous.

A sudden wave of confusion befell the ewele and they began to brawl amongst themselves.

With the humans temporarily forgotten, the beasts turned on each other ferociously in a flurry of teeth and claws.

Seeing their chance at escape the party hurried on their way, but it was not to be so easy.

There was a rustle up ahead and from the bushes emerged the biggest ewele they had ever seen.

It walked towards them on its hind legs, towering above them by a good six heads.

It was definitely the dominant hunter of the group and it didn’t seem affected by the confusion spell.

“Eweelelelelee!” it bellowed as it advanced menacingly.

They readied their weapons. They knew what was about to happen.

Quite suddenly it lunged, and lashed out, claws reaching for the nearest throat.

Ade-ajaoye stepped up instinctively.

A sudden voice in his head urged him and gave him confidence.

“DURO!” He commanded, pointing a finger at the beast.

The invocation had come naturally to his lips, but it seemed to have been swelling gradually from the pit of his belly ever since they stepped foot into the lair of the beasts.

He was merely an apprentice who had never been taught the workings of intricate spells, but this enchantment was powerful enough to achieve a feat never witnessed on Great-Ile in a hundred years.

He made no use of a channeling-horn; yet, his Ase manifested profoundly and there was a rumble in the air like rolling thunder.

The air shuddered as the spell took effect, and every living thing that wasn’t human immediately became frozen in place.

The Ewele became motionless like sculptures carved from stone.

Most of them held a comical pose, having been caught-out in unnatural positions by the enchantment, and some even remained suspended in the air as if supported by an unseen rope or platform.

Nonetheless, this was not the limit to the spell.

It affected everything in sight, from the trees swaying in the breeze to the leaves falling from the branches.

From the largest creature to the tiniest insect, they all stood unmoving; and everywhere was cast into an eerie silence for even sound itself stood still.

The men were all wonder-struck to say the least, and these were all seasoned warriors chosen for their fighting prowess and ferocity.

They had never before witnessed anything like this, such an awe-inspiring feat of magic.

How could a boy, a mere apprentice, know how to weave such a potent spell? How was it even possible without some sort of powerful talisman? These were the foremost questions on their mind as they quickly made their way from the scene to safety.

You are good.

thanks. i appreciate your praise

Very good. Can't wait for the next update

thanks.

Shît! Why did you stop?!

The rest of the journey turned out to be uneventful as they made the three day walk to the nearest human settlement without incidence.

It was as if the gods had blessed a path for them to follow.

The normally truculent and mistrustful Lowlanders had even accepted them warmly.

It was at this settlement they first sought information and once again things worked in their favor.

After parting with a portion of gold they were presented before a village elder.

He was a withered old man who had outlived many kings and was famed to have collective memory of the Lowlands such that people came to him from far and wide on matters of it’s past history.

He listened to them and recalled a time when a pregnant Middleland woman had passed through the settlement seeking refuge.

He consulted his telling-beads to make sure and then told them a name and where to find him.

They set out early the next morning now in possession of a name and location, but the tale had taken up a new twist.

The boy they sought was named Adetutu and incidentally he was the present day wrestling champion of the Lowlands; he was made even more famous by his almost superhuman exploit of slaying Ele-yin the voracious.

The giant reptile had terrorized the nearby fishing villages and threatened their livelihood such that none dared go to the swamps to fish for fear of being swallowed whole.

The story goes that Adetutu had wrestled the crocodile for a day and night until he finally dragged it unto land where he skewered it with his spear.

When word got out that Adetutu the slayer was in fact the chosen Oba of the great Middlelands it caused quite a stir.

A crowd quickly gathered and followed the envoy from the Middlelands; and with every village they passed the word spread and more people joined until the crowd grew into a multitude.

Finally they came to where he rested under a tree by the river bank.

A gourd of wine in his hand and naked from having recently bathed in the waters.

He stood and faced the crowd looking completely nonplussed.

They drew closer in numbers eager to witness the moment. The high priest stepped forward; a colorful beaded crown in his hands. He handed it over with reverence to the startled Adetutu and as soon as it was out of his hands he fell on his belly and prostrated before his king.

'A gourd of wine in his hand and Unclad from having recently bathed in the waters.

He stood and faced the crowd looking completely nonplussed.'

The guy get mind sha.

lol. thanks man. glad you like it.

Shey na here e finish? Asking for my friend o

Lol. yes its finished. but i have two more stories i posted up from the same universe.