Chapter Three - Swirl.

The school was teeming with students in every form, rushing around. The heavy feel of frantic frenzy was palpable, and Uloma could almost taste it; she held herself back from spitting in disgust. A junior running past her smiled at her and immediately regretted it when Uloma returned her smile with an unwavering glare. The poor girl could not stumble away fast enough, her stalking branchlike body shivering as she hurried away. The shiver, whether from the strong breeze on the breezy day or Uloma’s chilly stare, was of no concern to Uloma. She was in no mood to be cordial or friendly. A group of girls shrouded in puffy, smoky darkness giggled past her. They did not spare her a glance, just like most of the other students milling around, carrying or lifting things. They all had one thing in common: an air of undeniable excitement. Uloma sulked; it made her want to scream. 

“Fancy running into you here.” 

Uloma lit up at the sound of the voice, momentarily forgetting that she was waging war with everyone.  

“Echi! You are talking.” 

Echi flared and looked like he was smiling at her. 

“Can I sit?” 

He asked, and Uloma shifted to make space on the small bench she was sitting on. She had made the strategic decision to wage her silent protest in the centre of the school quadrangle, but everyone had ignored her all day, as if her angrily glaring at them was having no effect. 

“How long are you talking for this time?” 

She asked him, her hand playing with her beads as she tried to concentrate on him. Solely on him and not on the chaos of a Realm preparing for war. 

“An hour or two.” 

He beamed shyly. 

“I thought to take full advantage of it, and come to find you.” 

Uloma made a face and rolled her eyes. 

“Talking is overrated. I like it when you communicate in your fire dialect.” 

“Will you say then that I am hot, in my dialect?” 

He flared, nudging Uloma. Uloma pretended to be burned where he touched her; she inhaled sharply, letting a hissing sound pass through her teeth. 

“Scorching hot.” 

She replied, and he wiggled what passed for his eyebrows at her, laughing.  

“So, what is the occasion? How come you are talking?” 

Uloma asked him, smiling; it was a shift from all the frowning she had been doing all day. If she had tried to concentrate before, he had her full attention now. Echi always had a way of pulling her out of her moods. But he was no longer smiling, there was a seriousness in his eyes that she had never associated with him, this was Echi after all, her easy-going Echi. Maybe she shouldn't have asked him about his talking. Some things are personal, after all, she chided herself. But then he sputtered, and suddenly Uloma understood. The shift back to glaring was almost instantaneous. 

“What are you doing?” 

She whispered, her voice dripping with the annoyance she had carried around all week. Echi tried to reach out to her, but she angled away from him, shaking him off. 

“Are you insane? Have you all gone insane?” 

She shouted at him, ignoring the faces turning towards them. Echi looked apologetically around him, which infuriated Uloma even more. Was he apologizing for her? They were all insane! She was the only perfectly thinking being here. 

“Ulo.” 

Echi called, infusing that soothing tinge he was so good at in that simple call. Uloma glowered at him, but settled back down. She was not going to look at him, though. If he had to be foolish, he could do it knowing he did not have her blessing. Around them, beings worked with the disgruntled Orlus, who, for once, were the only creatures on her side. It says a lot that she was agreeing with the hateful Orlus. Someone dropped something metal, and it made a clanging noise as it fell to the paved ground. The Orlu partnered with him, hissed in annoyance, flapping and gesticulating his disapproval. Uloma could feel the shame wafting from the boy, but she felt no pity; she was too wound up to feel anything other than rage and irritation. 

“You won’t even look at me?” 

Echi asked. Uloma saw him dimming beside her from the corner of her eyes, but she stayed stubbornly staring ahead. 

“Alright then, I will leave if you want me to.” 

He said in a sombre tone. Uloma felt her heart tighten in response to the sadness in his voice. She sighed and turned to him. She looked him over, watching as the open air played with his flame; he would always let the breeze flow around him, and now he looked like the breeze was trying to quench him. Uloma knew that an ordinary breeze couldn’t do anything to him; this was her doing. She was the one quenching him, not the breeze. 

“Why won’t anyone listen to me? Why?” 

The frustration she felt every waking day coloured her question. 

“I am afraid, too, Ulom, we all are.” 

His head was lowered as he spoke. He looked up now, searching her gaze.  

“So why?” 

Uloma asked him, just as the first raindrop fell on her lashes, she blinked it off. 

“You truly don’t know, do you?” 

He asked cocking his head. The rain was coming down torridly now, and yet he still appeared to be dimming. Uloma worried. She shook her head, no, she did not know. 

“Friends don’t let other friends fight realm-destroying monsters alone.” 

He said and vanished before she could respond. If she was being honest, she knew she had no response for him, so she concentrated on the fact that he had vanished while he was barely visible from waning. What other ability does that boy have? 

~ 

“So Echi went to make his case with the council of Emenike?” 

Kams was reapplying a floral pattern on her temple. She was talking more to the mirror than to Uloma and Abali. 

“I have told you, Emenikes don’t have a council.” 

Abali corrected her. 

“And I have told you never to correct me. It seems that neither of us ever does good listening. Now, can we return to Uloma breaking poor Echi’s heart?” 

She retorted, not bothering to turn away from her reflection. 

“Don’t make it sound that bad. I was just angry. I did not mean to hurt his feelings.” 

She was feeling rotten enough without the guilting. 

“Mhm, Ulo. Akadi said she saw you shouting at him, for the first time in that boy’s life, his light waned in front of everyone, and he has you to thank for it.” 

“You are not helping Ekama. I already feel bad.” 

Uloma protested again from her bed in Kama’s room, where she was perched. 

“As you should, you have been sulking and skulking about, since the announcement. You won’t even help with the party preparations.” 

Abali scolded, on his lap, his owl cawed, its beak opening up in a yawn. 

“Nice try, well done sneaking your zealous nerdy party planning agenda into this. We attend parties, we don’t work on planning them. Everyone knows teachers' pets do the work. Nice try making this about you, though. This was mainly supposed to be a guilt trip to make her feel bad. Thank you for spoiling it.” 

Ekama turned away from her mirror, shooting Abali a look. The floral pattern Uloma was sure she would wipe off again, like all the other attempts before it, looked perfect against her dark skin. Abali made a face at her and shook his head as if in disbelief. 

“I am not the one telling her that she is being played.” 

He threw up his hands in frustration. His stomach muscles and bird moved as one to their owner’s disturbance. Uloma averted her eyes. They were admitting to wanting to make her feel guilty. She had to concentrate these days to follow their squabbling. 

“What are you both talking about?” 

Uloma asked the two of them, looking first at Kams, who did not look in the tinniest, least repentant. Repentance was not her strong suit. Uloma admitted to herself as she turned to her usually more dependable friend. He looked apologetically at her. At least one of them looked sorry, she thought, fuming. 

“Come on, Ulo, we are tired of you beating yourself up. You are not responsible for us.” 

So why did it feel like she was about to lead them all to their slaughter, Uloma wondered, but kept silent. 

“Don’t make that face, we have had to watch you make it for a week. We managed to liberate Abali after a whole month of him moping around and us pestering him, and now it's your turn to be pestered.” 

Ekama abandoned her dressing table and walked over to Uloma. She threw her hand around her friend. Abali still looked apologetically at her. He was not as shameless as Kams. Uloma raged, shrugging Ekama off, undeterred. Ekama rested her chin on Uloma’s shoulder. The owl cawed again. It felt like the whole room was holding its breath for her explosion. She eyed Kama, still annoyed, but she knew, even as she wanted to thump her, that Kama was right. They had also pestered Abali in his month of mourning his breakup with Ekani. Who knew that being ganged up against was so annoying? 

“But I really hurt Echi today.” 

Uloma argued weakly. 

“True, but Echi will recover. You’ve met him, also, he likes you, he will be giving you a chance to make it up to him this night at the party, you’ll see.” 

Uloma smiled, not convinced. They had not seen him dim; she had. She was hurting people by trying to protect them. She moved away from Ekama, feeling overwhelmed. The usual exhaustion descended upon her. She wanted to be alone, but Ekama was watching her with that apprehensive look again —the one she wore with a thin smile, as if unused to faking emotions. Uloma knew telling her friends she wanted some space would hurt their feelings, as if she had not already hurt them enough. She has been keeping to herself a lot. She has not spoken much with them since the announcement, particularly since her outburst. 

“I had a summon from Emenike earlier. I feel his tug.” 

She lied. Her friends did not believe her; she could tell. They exchanged a look as she vanished. It was the last thing she saw, the look of utter disappointment. 

It was her lot now, disappointing and being disappointed. The memory of her shouting the auditorium to the ground, at the announcement, washed over her, hitting her like a brick. She had lost it that day. Uloma looked around her and shook her head. She was in the Tree. She must have been thinking too hard about Emenike and his foolish announcement. Well, better the Tree than any of her other hiding spots. At least she was making some truth out of her lies. Her secret places were not safe from her friends. They had not been joking about the pestering. 

An Orlu whirled past her, its strings doing a loop as it passed her head. 

“Watch it!” 

She yelled, ducking, remembering the last time those pulsing strings were stuck to her hair. Without looking back to check on her, the Orlu yelled back; 

“You watch it.” 

Uloma narrowed her eyes in the general direction the Orlu had vanished. Maybe her other power should be catching and torturing Orlus. Satisfied with the image of an Orlu begging her while she tickled it with feathers, she replayed the image again in her head. Reprieve, she almost smiled. Another passing Orlu shot her a dirty look as if he could read her mind, but Uloma flashed her teeth at him, in a smile that was meant to be innocent but wasn’t. The waiting room went quiet again after the last Orlu. Uloma could not stand the silence these days. Whenever it was quiet, she saw them. She saw the bodies littered all over her palace. 

“Pacing back and forth like a night crawler in front of Emenike’s office, I see.” 

Uloma spun around at the obnoxious voice, her heart did a tiny leap at seeing him. She did not know what she had been expecting to see, but he had not changed at all; he was the same tall, thin, white-wearing-heavenly, with a jawline you wanted to memorise. 

“Ah, no comebacks? Who broke you?” 

He said, sounding disappointed. She was jolted back to reality by this comment. He thankfully could never let her forget what he was: the annoying, insufferable heavenly. Uloma raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes. 

“Just leave me alone.” 

She told him. She was certain that all her annoyance was carried into that request; he chuckled. Actually chuckled. Uloma wanted to throw him to the ground, wrestle him in a combat-style takedown for chuckling. She glared at him, only because attempting to beat him in a wrestling match would be futile; he would best her in combat without raising a finger. There was a reason her mother specifically asked for him. They had not explicitly told her, of course, because the Cosmos forbid her mother tells her anything. 

“Away for a month and I return to this high welcome?” 

He asked her. Returning her attention to him, she glared at him, refusing to engage. If he wanted to goad someone, he could go find them somewhere else. 

“Oh, I have missed your eloquence.” 

He was smirking. He wanted to provoke her, she could tell. She had no idea how long she could stand here without letting him get to her. His face was lit up in a half-smile that Uloma would usually want to drown in. Would have wanted to drown in. If she did not want to hurt him so badly, maybe not by combat-wrestling, she could try to petrify him, like Asi. He was a Heavenly, there was not much a cosmic could do to him that he would not be prepared for. Their school has been playing tricks on the school for Heavenlies for millennials. If she could petrify him, he would see it coming. One of these days, she thought, glaring at him, one of these days. 

Turning away from him, she marched towards Emenike’s wooden doors. Better to face Emenike than spend another minute looking at what effect the hues from the symbols above had on his skin. Who glows in sombre lighting? How can someone so beautiful be so irritating? 

“You should not go in there.” 

He called after her, but she ignored him, marching with even more determination towards the door. She had not wanted to go in before, but now that he was telling her not to, she wanted to. She would rather face Emenike and fight it out than stand here with Eligwe. 

“You cannot stop what is happening.” 

She was by the doors, and he was by her side. She had not even heard him move. She stepped in front of him, angry. Angry that he was also on their side, was she expecting him to see things her way? It did not matter. She was going to see Emenike and shout at him until he heard her. 

“Uloma, you are being stubborn. You are not listening.” 

It was more the strain in his voice than his words that froze her in her tracks. She whirled around in a force powerful enough to knock down anyone. 

“Me?” 

She shouted at him, her anger bubbling and threatening. She felt heat spread through her body, and she felt like she was going to explode from the force of her emotions. 

“I am the one not listening?” 

Uloma felt her face burning. From experience, she knew she must be tomato-red, but she did not care. Not when he was just standing there, nonchalantly accusing her of not listening.  

“The realms, why do you think they coexist in near unity?” 

What did it have to do with anything? She wanted to protest, but he was still talking in that lazy way he had. She was barely keeping herself in check, and yet through her anger, she could see it; the tenseness on him, there was a hint of a strain in his body language. Eligwe's nonchalance was not truly there; she could see, even as her temper fought to stay in place. 

“They all know that none of their powers threatens anyone in their worlds. Now beings are crawling out of dimensions unknown, obliterating, first, consciousness, and then physical form, preventing regeneration and reincarnation, and then there is the last-born child of Death, battling one of those things, and winning, even with her minimal training.” 

He moved closer to her, his tall frame towering over her. He smelled of mornings when dew still covered plants, she thought somewhere at the back of her mind. 

“Uloma, the realms would rather be obliterated by these beings than have another ruler of a realm have an advantage over them. You, to them, are your mother’s advantage. Those things have everyone on edge. The daughter of Death’s new power does not help matters. Your realm has something to prove, or the other realms will start to do more than raise an eyebrow. Even your own people are uneasy, even they cannot have a being with that much power casually exist. You, to them, are more of a threat than those things.” 

“What are you saying?” 

Uloma’s heart raced. She had been so preoccupied with those things, but politics matters so much to the leaders. How could she not have seen it? 

“Your realm has to try to fight so that they can feel that conquering the thing is not that difficult. If you did it, so can they. “ 

She shook her head. Abali, Ekama, even Echi, she was sure, were not going into this to show her up. 

“No, knowing your friends, I am certain they are fighting to protect you. You, my dear, are a target. They all know it. They hear the whispers. You nag at people’s fears and anxiety. Now it is just basely anxiety. It won’t stay as anxiety for long if those things go on raging, unchecked. People will associate you with them, and associate your realm with them. Your friends are trying to protect you from your realm, and your realm is going to war because they have something to prove.” 

He was right, she had not been listening. She knew what those things were capable of. She had worried that because her friends were offering themselves to go to war against those things, they were underestimating them. She had thought that they were foolish and did not know what they had gotten themselves into. She raised her eyes to Eligwe, and he stared back at her for a second. How could she not have seen it before? She wondered as his dark eyes held hers, and then he yawned like he was bored with her already, and the spell was broken. Eligwe stepped away from her, looking around him. Uloma thought, ‘She had wanted to petrify him earlier. Now she was the one unable to move.’ 

“Where are my Orlus? They owe me some roasted yams offering, and you are not the type to worship me. Or are you?” 

He asked, smiling with the whole of his teeth, and as if on cue, Orlus descended on him, their wings beating so fast in their haste to reach him that they were leaving mini whirlwinds in their wake. Uloma watched transfixed as they settled on his hair, tussling and combing their hands through it, on his shoulder, and even on his calves. She watched them in slight awe and discomfort; their fanaticism with him was disconcerting to witness, and it never got easier on the observer. As if they had finally realised they had an observer, they turned their eyes on her. 

“Ah, the ugly one is here.” 

One of them said, and Uloma bristled, maybe today was the day she ended the life of an Orlu. 

“Walk away, Ulo.” 

Eligwe mouthed to her, but the Orlus heard him. 

“Yes, walk away, big ugly, he is ours!” 

Uloma’s glare returned. Maybe she could petrify them? Perhaps she was angry enough that Akani’s ability had lent itself to her. She narrowed her eyes, but as sincerely as she wished, nothing happened. Could she, at the very least, turn them to liquid goo? She narrowed her eyes with more determination. Nothing happened, she fumed, giving up. 

“You can have him.” 

She glowered as she vanished.