CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN. AFTER.

The light would not go away, and Uloma’s feet were starting to tire. There was no end to the white light. Her sparse memory told her how bad an idea it would be to give in to the exhaustion. It told her she was fighting for a reason, but it is very difficult to fight when you can no longer remember what you are fighting for. Her lips felt parched, and her feet ached like there was an invisible thing lodged inside, impeding more movement, until it stopped, and there was no pain because there were no feet to feel. 

Uloma paused to lick and wet her parched lips. The simple action jarred her memory; she was a person with lips to be wet. She licked her lips again to confirm this. She had feet; she closed her eyes and tried to feel them. It was difficult, but she tried. She came up blank when she tried to conjure up her feet, but there had to be something called feet. She was not an idea or a whisper; she was a being; the remaining fragment of Uloma insisted. But try as she did, she could not remember if she had feet. She wondered vaguely if she had forgotten other things; what was she forgetting? 

“Found her! Told you there was no void strong enough to keep us out.” 

Uloma looked at the creature talking; she felt peculiar watching it. 

“Ugh, saving you will give me a bad reputation, but Eligwe insists. You better not do anything weird.” 

The creature eyed her and made a tsking sound. 

“Anything weirder than you are already doing. You cosmics are the joy of the Cosmos, are you not?” 

If Uloma in her state could remember the meaning of disdain, she would have recognised it on the face of the winged creature. It picked Uloma up by the fold of her skirt and vanished. It dropped her on her bottom the second they reappeared inside the Tree. 

~

“Ouch, you hateful, vile thing.” 

Uloma screamed, rubbing her bottom. It hurt where the Orlu had dropped her. It hurt! Uloma realised she could feel pain; she could feel everything. She was herself. The vague feeling that blanketed her mind must have existed only in the void. She was herself again, outside of it. 

“I told you we should just have let her burn herself out, that is the help I get for helping these annoying cosmics.” 

The Orlu hissed, his huge eyes bulging. He flapped over to a massive wooden desk, trailed by his bluish strings. 

“You could have been a tad gentler; you know?” 

Eligwe was saying as Uloma lunged at the Orlu, picking it up before it had the chance to flutter or fly off the table. She drew it up to her bosom in a hug. 

“I can feel again.” 

She laughed. 

“I have a leg, a hand, memories!” 

“Put me down, you ugly pumpkin with the skin of a ripe mango, or else I will activate the strings I can still feel on your hair; you will feel something then, all right.” 

Of course, Uloma thought, the Orlus were not ones for hugs. Her excitement had gotten the best of her, but an Orlu was also not one for saving people, especially if those people were cosmics. 

“I think you should listen to him.” 

Eligwe said from where he was watching her with another Orlu, gazing up adoringly at him, Uloma scoffed. What was going on? The Orlu in her arm was wiggling so much that she dropped him as he sank his jagged, tiny teeth into her arm. The indented skin on her arm took away the last of her gratitude; she narrowed her eyes in equal annoyance at the Orlu. 

“You should have listened.” 

The Orlu muttered, straightening itself and averting its eyes from the beings in the room, all the while muttering about people having to reduce themself to unsavoury, undignified acts to be listened to around here. He was right, Uloma realised; he had saved her, and she had ignored his boundaries. 

“I am sorry, I was a little too excited, forgive me?” 

“Just don’t do it again, is all I am saying.” 

It muttered and flew over to Eligwe, sitting on Eligwe’s feet. He contented himself with petting Eligwe’s exposed calves, so much for preaching boundaries, Uloma thought. Eligwe did not look uncomfortable; he was leaning over another huge table, watching her. The room had a dusty, cushiony design that suited him. As she watched his immaculate skin against the brown table, she wondered if there was anything that did not suit him. Concentrate, she told herself, it was unarming the way he just stood there staring at her. 

“Eligwe.” 

She called, and memories came flooding back: the Plain of Bliss, Etti and Otti, the Gathering, and her summoning. Eligwe had looked different; a more pressing memory screamed at her. 

“The school is on fire, we have to help, it is burning, Asi is in pain. Ekama, Abali.” 

Tears surged into her eyes on cue, choking her, but Eligwe still watched her like he could not decide on something. 

“Did you hear me?” 

She cried, shaking her head. She did not have time for this; she had to help her friends, her sister, and the school. 

“I told you the Cosmics are not all there.” 

The Orlu that had brought Uloma said, ‘All there’, pointing to his head. 

“Mhm, I have heard they are half mad, most of them.” 

The other Orlu replied, watching Uloma now with her eyes on the smaller side for an Orlu. 

“Why did you not tell me before I bit her? Do you think I have some of her mad venom now in me?” 

He asked, gazing up at Eligwe. Eligwe shook his head, his intense eyes never leaving the heaving Uloma. 

“That is not how bites work.” 

He said at last. Uloma could not believe them; she expected nonchalance from the three of them, but at the expense of lives? She thought Eligwe was becoming their friend, but she must have judged him wrong. She balled her fists in anger; tears made it difficult to see the three of them. If they were not going to help, she had to find someone who could or try on her own; they were wasting precious time, she thought as she attempted to hurry away. 

“Did you say the academy was burning?” 

He asked her lazily. She wanted to hurt him badly at that moment. What did he not understand? This was a matter of urgency; she closed her eyes to vanish. She did not have the time for this. 

“Uloma, you do understand how holography works?” 

He said, halting her attempt to leave, she blinked away her tears and eyed him. The rage she was feeling kept her from answering him. 

“The academy is a projection by the Emenikes; it is not a physical thing, it is just a mental projection. Ulo, there is no fire because there is no school to burn.” 

Uloma’s eyes widened with realisation; she blinked at him. He was right; she already knew this. How had she forgotten? That thing was only tricking her. 

“She is not the brightest firewood, this one.” 

The Orlu, on the table, noted conversationally, spearing her a disapproving appraisal. 

“Eligwe, Abali, Asiya, and Ekama were dying.” 

She said out loud, hearing the unconvincing hollowness in her words. 

“Are you sure I will not catch her insanity from the bite?” 

The Orlu insisted, patting down his bluish-purple self. 

“You are fine. I assure you.” 

Eligwe told him. 

“Ulo, they are with Emenike right now.” 

He said to Ulo. Uloma’s heart still raced. They had been... she did not want to finish that thought; it felt like her heart was being squeezed out of her just thinking about it. 

“They are fine?” 

Uloma whispered, almost like she was saying a prayer. 

“The last time I checked, but things might change, so please go on being mad.” 

Uloma slumped into the sofa in front of her, consumed with relief. She ignored the Orlu talking to her. Her friends were fine, everything was fine. Does that mean... Her head snapped up. 

“The void and that thing never happened then.” 

Eligwe’s expression shifted. He walked over to her, never moving fast enough to dislodge the Orlu now balanced on his feet, or to outpace the Orlu fluttering beside him. It was telling of his personality to have the adoration of one of the Cosmos’ most vile-spirited creatures. Emenike had their adoration and their servitude as well, her mind reminded her; yes, but Emenike were not the epitome of goodness, was he? She answered back. 

“Are you okay?” 

Eligwe asked when he reached her. The concern in those words made her ashamed of her thoughts; she nodded that she was fine, worried that her voice would betray her unkindness. 

“It had all seemed so real.” 

Uloma told him. He nodded. 

“That is because it was. Most of it at least. Outside of this Tree is chaos. Concerned Cosmics, young and old, are haunting and hunting the Emenikes.” 

“Because of me.” 

Uloma whispered. 

“Yes, because of you. Who else are those things searching for ehn?” 

The Orlu on Eligwe’s feet answered, eying Uloma. 

“Mhm, now poor Emenikes are scrambling around, tightening the defences of the realm, to block off any seep-through you and your stupid friends caused when you forced yourselves back in from the Plain of Bliss. You are the only one among them who is not stupid, Eligwe.” 

The Orlu went back to petting Eligwe’s calves. Eligwe gave it a lopsided smile that felt more like a threat than anything. Uloma shivered from it. She hugged her hand to herself. Everything in the void had happened, all those dead servants, all because of her; tears threatened again. 

“The Emenikes not occupied with all that, are busy with the void you called into existence. What are you even? A black hole?” 

The Orlu now sitting on Eligwe’s shoulder snapped. 

“What?” 

Uloma muttered. She wanted to say more and deny their accusation, but how could she? They were right, this was all her fault. People died, the blood, there had been so much blood. She closed her eyes and immediately opened them; all she could see was red. 

“That is enough. You two go tell Emenike you got Uloma out.” 

Eligwe intervened. Uloma could not bring herself to look directly at him; the despair in her chest was blurring her vision. 

“Us? We did not want to. You made us do it, now you owe us.” 

The Orlu, on his feet, said. There was so much pride in his voice; Uloma still could not look at Eligwe. He had asked for the help of the vicious Orlus to save her? What did he owe them for it? 

“So, we get to serve you.” 

The Orlu continued, laughing maniacally. 

“That is not how that works either.” 

Eligwe told him. 

“We will be back, you owe us!” 

The Orlu insisted. 

“So, we serve you now, you promise.” 

They fluttered to the door and waited for his reassurance. 

“Sure.” 

Eligwe nodded, flashing them a smile that did not reach his eyes. It was enough for the Orlus, though; they looked satisfied as they vanished. Uloma stared in the direction of the vanished Orlus; her tears kept running down her face. She was sniffling to keep her runny nose from running. 

“Hey, look at me.” 

Eligwe said and waited for the despairing Uloma to look up at him. His gaze roamed her face. He was smiling. Uloma frowned at this. 

“What?” 

She snapped, he was smiling? What about this whole situation made smiling appropriate? At the back of her mind, she knew anger was her default emotion; it was easier than processing pain. 

“There you are, I thought we lost you to some sinkhole.” 

Uloma rolled her eyes. 

“You are trying to annoy me even now, really?” 

She sniffed, and he shrugged, that little movement loaded, yet full of grace. 

“Whatever, I am leaving.” 

She told him, still sniffling, but angry. 

“Before you go, keep that anger, bury the self-pity, everybody did what they wanted to do. Nobody forced anyone. It is not your fault, whatever you may think.” 

“Do you think being cryptic makes you cool or something?” 

She asked him. He had no idea about all the dead servants, she realised. He paused as if he had never considered her question before now, and shrugged again. He looked beautiful even when he was being insufferable. 

“I did not know I was being cryptic; I was trying to be as concise as possible, but you think I am cool?” 

He said 'cool' like it was a new word he was trying out. She rolled her eyes at him. 

“I did not call you cool.” 

“Did too. And I believe you are right.” 

His stupid eyes were intense; they watched her with amusement, which only angered her further. 

“You are not cool; you just talk cryptically and expect that I have some secret means of decoding your meaning.” 

She shot angrily at him. 

“Have you considered maybe that you are not smart or intelligent enough to follow a simple conversation?” 

Uloma’s mouth and eyes opened and closed. She was not even sure how to react to the insult. She closed her mouth when she realised that she was proving his point. He was trying to enrage her, and he was succeeding. She narrowed her eyes at him. 

“There is Emenike before you vaporise me, Daughter of All That Ends.” 

It was all she could do not to throw something at him, but a visible gap was appearing, and Emenike was on the other side, smiling ruefully at her. 

“Come on, you two.” 

He waved, his deep familiar voice buzzing through the gap. Uloma shot one last withering look at Eligwe before she crossed over. If it were the last thing she did, she would make him pay for that comment. He did not look bothered, though. He watched her back with his lazy gaze. He even managed to look amused; the infuriating being. 

The room Emenike was in expanded, filling every space it neared and reached until it was the only room there, just as if it had always been there.  

“Ulom.” 

Omoni called in her rich drawl. 

“My child.” 

She said as Uloma went to her. She was tall, much taller than most women. She bent to Uloma to give her an awkward hug. She was not the warmest person, considering she was the Lord of Storm, the personification of it, at least. She would sometimes project warmth when she thought it was the emotion to give, but warmth was not her thing. Even now, she was trying to be warm for Ulo. 

“Oh, poor child, you have been through so much.” 

She cooed. Uloma smiled up at her and wiped her nose with the back of her palm. 

“Mother, don’t start.” 

Ekama said from where she was sitting with Abali, who hadn’t looked up since Uloma got there. 

“I have not said anything, I just think that it was careless of Enwu to have put you children, in harm’s way.” 

Her flowing dress danced as if it were responding to an invisible breeze, as she glided while she talked. 

“Is that not what we have been saying all this time?” 

She asked, turning to the muscular man beside Emenike, who had his very toned hand crossed over his firm, tattooed chest, and his grey, unseeing eyes had a black pencil running in a defining way over them. He nodded his bald head at Omoni, his thick lips moving in concurrence. 

“We told you Enwu did not make us do anything.” 

Ekama retorted to her mother. Ekama was back to her everyday form; she was trying hard to avoid looking at Uloma. Uloma’s heart broke even more. 

“So how do you then explain the rip in the defence of the realm?” 

Otogu did not raise his voice, but it was easy to feel his words in your stomach. 

“We have been telling you all this time that it has nothing to do with us; we have no idea how it happened. We did not do it.” 

Ekama sounded exasperated. 

“You keep saying that, Kami, but your friends don’t back your claim. Abali has not said anything, nor has Eligwe the heavenly, who is in our realm for whatever reason.” 

Her mother said, her florid hand movement matched her elegant, affluent-sounding way of speaking. 

“Neither has Asiya, but you let her go.” 

Ekama retorted. 

“Okay, now that we have another daughter of Death here, can she give us some answers?” 

Otogu said, his biceps moving as he spoke. 

Abali’s head snapped up for the first time. His eyes were seeing, and he looked directly at Uloma, shaking his head. She would have missed it had she not been staring at him and Ekama, willing them to acknowledge her existence. 

“You are setting a trap for your children. If they say anything, you can link them to the fault in your defence, and then you can ban them from whatever. You are ancient and cunning, but you have been at it for over a day.” 

Eligwe said from the pile of books he was perched on. 

“Young man, this is a matter that affects our realm, and I advise that you stay out of it.” 

The drawl from Omoni was poison. 

“The same matter that has you detaining your children while their friend was fighting for her existence? As if getting to the truth was more important to you than one of your own.” 

Eligwe continued unfazed. 

“Our children are of more importance to us. If they are putting themselves in danger by foolishly playing minions to Death, then we must protect them, and what’s more, their foolishness could be putting us all in danger as we speak.” 

Abali’s father said. 

“Agree to disagree. But I will maintain my story no matter what torture you subject us, dear mother, so...”  

Ekama stubbornly shrugged defiantly at her mother. 

“This has been going on for a long time; we need to give them a break.” 

Emenike finally spoke. 

“Of course, you would say that! Are you, not her very own army, here to keep us on the straight and obedient path? Did you not even see the state our children returned to us in? You want us to turn a blind eye when our ruler is toying with our children’s existence?” 

Uloma looked at all the faces in the room. What were they talking about? What had her mother done? 

“There was almost no energy left in my son. Did you see him? Who does that? Who makes children use up so much energy, enough to put an end to them?” 

Uloma looked now from Otogu to his son, Abali. What were they saying? Why wouldn’t he look up at her again? Why was Ekama avoiding her eyes? 

“Eligwe is right, these children need a break, you have been on them all this time, whilst chaos rages out there. One of my students almost went extinct today because we were debating whether to save her and when. I cannot begin to imagine what would have happened if this heavenly being you are being so political about had not removed himself and taken her rescue into his own hands. What would have happened if he hadn’t been here? We cannot perceive our future, but I assure you that no harm will come to them while your children are in my school. The summoning they responded to, you sanctioned, that was out of my hands. What happens outside my school and my Tree is out of my hands, but as long as they are in here, they are under my protection. With all due respect, your insistent questioning of them is not doing them any good; they need some rest. I will get answers from them later, and you have my word that I will relay to you what I find out.” 

Emenike took a breath. 

“Now, I believe the realm needs you. You are one of the high-ranking elders; people need to hear that you are working with me to keep their children safe and that you are dedicated to doing so. You have a realm to run; I have an academy I am responsible for. We cannot fail either anymore. Something led that thing here, but Ulo vanquished it, thankfully; she should not have had to on her own. So please, let's focus on the issue at hand, damage control.” 

Emenike finished, and he looked pointedly at both parents, who seemed to be digesting all he had said. 

“I don’t want to see a scratch on my daughter.” 

Omoni said, at last, her drawl sounded to Uloma’s ears like a threat to Emenike, but Emenike only nodded. 

“That is fair.” 

He answered. 

“Son, will you be okay?” 

Otogu asked Abali with concern all over his defined face. 

“I will come with you, Father.” 

Abali replied meekly, taking his father’s outstretched hand. He looked exhausted, Uloma realised, like he needed his father’s support to keep from collapsing. 

“What?” 

Ekama called after Abali as he vanished with his father. Uloma felt like yelling after him as well. She had not heard from him since the strange exchange in the Plain of Bliss, and now he was going away with his father? He had not even made eye contact except to motion for her to stay quiet earlier. 

“You stubborn girl, I will get to the bottom of this, and I should not hear that you are doing stupid things like channelling space and bending matter again, you do know you could have pulled yourselves apart if something had gone wrong, right?” 

“Mother, I still don’t know what you are talking about.” 

Omoni swatted at her daughter’s head and hissed with irritation. 

“Come here, Ulom.” 

Omoni pulled Uloma to stand before her; her hand was electric with contained emotions. Her eyes had lightning zapping around in them. She smiled, softening her features. 

“You at least have a sensible head on your neck.” 

She pointed to her daughter. 

“Keep this fool safe, okay? Uloma, my girl, I always knew you were something. Whether or not you are the end of our realm, like the prophecy says, you are something, my girl.” 

Omoni drawled in her rich voice and vanished, leaving electric currents where she had been standing. The room was quiet for a moment after Omoni vanished, and then Ekama was on her feet, running and throwing herself into Uloma’s arms when she reached her, almost knocking her over. 

“Oh, Deaths, I was so worried.” 

She said, holding on to Uloma, as her body shook. It took Uloma a second to realise that her friend was crying. 

“I was so worried. I could not ask my mother when they sounded the alarm and began evacuating the academy. You were all I could think about, Ulo. And then we saw it, but it was too late, you were already trapped with it, and we did not know how to save you without hurting you. The thing had hidden inside our energy when we crossed back over and all that chaos with the evacuation, Ulo, we did not realise until it was too late, I swear.” 

Ekama babbled, words falling over themselves. 

“Believe me. Ulom, I thought I had lost you. If I had any strength left, my mother would not have held me back from coming to you. I am so sorry; it is my fault.” 

Ekama sobbed. 

“What are you talking about, Kams? You have nothing to be sorry for. I thought something bad had happened to you as well. I was so worried.” 

Uloma’s tears started up again, and both girls sobbed openly in each other’s arms. Why would Kama even think that not coming to save her made her responsible for what had happened? The thought that her friend was blaming herself made Uloma feel even worse. 

“I am fine, I discovered my powers, and they were right because it seems, according to the Orlus, that I can create a void. Who creates nothing? Imagine that. Me! I can make nothing exist. I can obliterate matter.” 

Uloma laughed through her tears; her only desire was to console her friend. 

“You sure can. Your palace is gone like it was never there.” 

Emenike said and then cleared his throat as if he had said something out loud that he had not intended to. 

“I have matters to attend to, I will leave my office to you, I have to send back some of the accumulated energy that you caused with your channelling, we cannot afford to deal with excess energy bouncing around, not with a matter destroying machine also walking around here.” 

He eyed Ulo. 

“But I thought you said you did not know whether or not we had used channelling?” 

Eligwe asked him. 

“Please. You entered my realm; you think I did not sense it? They all did; they are pretending not to know, as long as I pretend not to know either. Enwu has a hand in it because you would not know how to bend the universe like that without superior knowledge; we all know it.” 

“So why did Aunty insist on hearing it from Ekama?” 

Uloma asked, her hand picking through Ekama’s unruly hair. 

“Because nothing is true until proven. They cannot protest unless there is proof, and Death has left no proof by not directly involving herself.” 

Emenike told her. 

“Was she right, though? Could they have gotten hurt from it?” 

Uloma asked him. 

“Oh, they all did get hurt from it; they came to me too weak to move. They are still very weak now, which is why their parents would not let them come to save you. They needed a plan that did not involve harming any more cosmics, and we could not see one.” 

Ekama sniffed in Uloma’s arm, her chilly wind leaving goosebumps all over Ulo. 

“So Eligwe recued you himself.” 

Ekama told her, sniffling still, her dainty nose red and her eyes heavy with unshed tears. Uloma kissed her on the forehead. 

“You used the Orlu. How did you pull that off?” 

Emenike asked, looking at Eligwe as if he was reassessing him. Eligwe shrugged. 

“I owe them their servitude now, I think.” 

He replied. 

“Ahh.” 

Emenike said, nodding his head and beard. 

“And you will pay. I will leave you all now to a deserved rest. I have a school that needs me. Take your time and recuperate. Ulo, can we talk for a moment, please?” 

He asked Uloma. Uloma nodded and untangled herself from Ekama.