CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT. NOW. (The end of book 1).

“You will be heard when you speak, even by your elders. Your days will be long, children your age will call you blessed. Your elders will sing your praise.” 

Obuzor’s mother muttered to her granddaughter. The little mouth yawned unimpressed. Her grandmother continued muttering her prayers, but this time she pulled the baby's hands and held both tiny hands, allowing the rest of the little body to dangle in the air. Two small eyes opened in alarm, as if to warn the old woman that whatever it was that was being done to her, she disapproved. The grandmother smiled her brown-toothy smile at this reaction. She hefted the tiny bundle and threw her up in the air. The squeal that followed had everyone around them pause for a moment to laugh. 

“Maybe you should stop throwing her so high. It leaves her looking shocked and betrayed.” 

Obuzor said, standing beside his mother. He observed the ritual with skepticism. It did not matter to him that this had been done to him every morning when he was a baby, or that he had also watched his mother do it to his Uche; even then, he had watched with his heart breaking at the wild look of betrayal in his daughter’s eyes. He wanted to snatch this one away now and cuddle her until her little mouth stopped wailing; until she looked at him again with forgiveness. 

“Obuzor, Uzor, where is your tough skin? You fear too much for your daughters. They are more resilient than they look.” 

His cousin and wife’s best friend laughed from the open kitchen where she was stirring a pot of soup for breakfast. Her tiny face grinned in amusement. Her brown and yellow wrapper held loosely around her chest, shook as she tried not to laugh openly at the expense of her distressed cousin. 

“It just feels like we are being wicked. She looks like she sees how terrible we are.” 

Obuzor sighed. His chewing stick in his mouth long enough to measure his foot appeared forgotten and abandoned, as he raptly watched his daughter and mother. But his mother ignored him, her attention set on her ritual. 

“Testing her reflexes and training her muscles, dearest soft-hearted cousin, is not wickedness, oh. Her shocked reaction tells you that she is a healthy baby and that there is nothing wrong with her development.” 

Ozioma called from the kitchen, where she was pulling out a huge bowl to pour the soup into. 

“Pay my husband no mind, he suffered like this every morning with Uche. You would think he would be used to it by now. He has had three daughters for our ancestors' sake.” 

Oge shook her head. She was walking towards her husband from her hut, two toddlers in her wake. A little girl with wobbly legs and feet, not accustomed to walking, waddled naked in front of her. The cowries of protection around her left ankle and neck shone brightly against her midnight dark skin. The boy, already adept at the skill, and the girl, who had just started learning, raced ahead of Oge. His potbelly from overeating the night before did nothing to temper his movement. On his head was a shock of tangled hair. Oge watched him more than she watched the girl, even though the girl was the one who was new to walking. The boy was the one who needed an eye kept on him. 

“Mama.” 

The little boy called out as he reached Ozioma. She picked him up and spun him around to gleeful squeals, that momentarily took Obuzor’s attention away from his mother and daughter.” 

“Now go to your uncle, let Mama finish with breakfast.” 

Ozioma gently put her son on the ground, and he was running like standing still was an insult to his newfound prowess. He raced to his uncle and roughly tumbled into his arms; a roar of laughter accompanied this action. 

“Is breakfast ready? I am ready to kick up my leg and let you three fuss over me, bless the gods for market days, because they keep you here at my beck and call. Except when Mama chooses to be the villain and goes to trade on a market day, instead of spending the free time with me.” 

Her mother-in-law eyed Oge in response, hissing in irritation. Oge grinned at her, unfazed. 

“Evil mama will be going to the market today.” 

She cooed at her daughter as her mother-in-law moved her fingers from side to side to test her granddaughter's vision. The tiny watery eyes did not move or blink. The old woman nodded. 

“Give her here, my breasts are begging to be put to use.” 

“Yes, they are spilling out of you.” 

Ozioma giggled. 

“Tah, you are sleazy and a pervert.” 

Oge replied to more giggles from Ozioma. 

“Am I a pervert because your breasts are calling to my eyes?” 

“Yes, yes, you are.” 

Obuzor and Oge chorused in unison. Obuzor vacated his chair for his wife and daughter, the boy in one of his arms, kicking and laughing as his uncle teased him. Obuzor offered his free hand to his second child from his late wife, but she sidled even closer to Oge. It took a lot of cajoling and wooing to get her away from Oge. Nothing her father was not capable of; he was happy to indulge. 

“Come and take my eyes away. Until then, I cannot help what I cannot help.” 

Ozioma scrunched up her small nose at them. She placed the tray of breakfast on the wooden table. 

“Come and eat, oh, or don’t. I will finish it all, myself.” 

She called as she placed stools around the table, her tiny adept hand working to a routine practiced so much it was muscle memory. 

“And we believe her!” 

Oge exclaimed in a loud whisper to her husband, and Ozioma shot her a mock-angry look. 

Oge’s mother-in-law watched the proceedings with a nagging feeling at the back of her mind. She was happy, how could she not be? She thought as she watched her granddaughter suckling on her daughter-in-law's enormous breast, her daughter-in-law's shoulders and neck were covered in white chalk, not only to ward off evil but to cool down her skin and help rejuvenate it from the stress of pregnancy. The old woman’s eyes momentarily shifted to her son, who was teasing his cousin. His heavy build had returned, and his stomach made the wrapper tied beneath it work on the double for its worth, but what was this nagging feeling? Her attention returned to her suckling granddaughter, who was not yet seeing. That was it. Two people can be similar. Even reincarnations do not act the same. Something is usually different about them, mostly from all the lessons their souls had learned the first time around. So why did it feel to her like her granddaughter was a copy, a repeat of her dead sister? The old woman wondered, a weary frown on her face. Just like her sister, Uche, her vision is taking its time to kick in. Why did it feel like everything was being done again? The same thing, but twice. 

“Mama, oh, where have you gone? These children will start eating our fingers if you don’t come to give us our share of fish. Look how their mouths are watering.” 

Obuzor laughed. Just as his hand plunged into the big bowl of soup, he withdrew it a second before Ozioma’s hand went into the same bowl. 

“I am coming.” 

The old woman laughed, washing her hands in the fresh bowl Oge offered her with the hand she was not holding her suckling daughter with. She reached into the soup with her washed hand, pulled out two massive fish, and laid them out on a plate. She then began the task of dividing them up, her duty as the eldest in the family, watched closely by two tiny pairs of ravenous eyes. 

“They will eat her up with their eyes any moment now.” 

Ozioma joked, and there was laughter of agreement from all the adults in the compound. The sun was only slightly up, and the mid-morning breeze blew into the compound, playing gently on their skin. Lizards, chickens, and goats strolled lazily in and out and around the compound, largely ignored by the human inhabitants, who were accustomed to their presence. It was a market day, a day of rest and trading. The only trader in their compound was portioning out fish, unfairly favouring her daughter-in-law, and her son and niece would mockingly protest. 

~ 

Walking into the busy hallway with Emenike reminded Uloma of the chaos that must be raging outside the school, which she was being protected from. Emenikes and Orlus hurriedly and purposefully floated around, the look of urgency on their faces left Uloma feeling heavy. Everything was going wrong, Uloma mourned in her head, and she was at the centre of it all somehow. 

“You have exceeded all my expectations; do you know that?” 

Emenike asked her, pulling her attention to himself. Uloma’s tears were threatening, so she looked away, unsure what he was talking about and not ready to confront it. Did he not see the chaos she was causing and how she was the reason everyone had been in danger? And even now, could still be in danger. But Emenike was still talking. 

“I had so much faith in you, but for all my knowledge, I only expected you would turn out as formidable and powerful as one of your sisters. Never in any one of our minds did we expect you to vanquish a thing of dark matter on your first try, a thing that has left the best of us scampering and beside ourselves.” 

Uloma allowed herself to look at him. The blue of the waiting areas seeped through to the hallway, allowing a ghost-like glow on Emenike’s robe. His eyes watched her intently. The hallway was almost empty now, but a few Orlus hurried back and forth, too occupied to pay them any attention. 

“They all died because of me, Emenike. That thing was after me, and it hurt those innocent humans.” 

The pain Uloma felt was like a knife to her chest; tears surged and poured out of her. She did not care who saw her; people had died, and more people could die. 

“Look at you, without any proper training, you assessed your powers. For all our academy is, it is not here to prepare warriors. We are here solely to train Cosmics into their powers. Your power is not something that we could have prepared for in all of our years, Ulo. Still, look what you did.” 

The hall was empty now, and the silence that followed did nothing for Uloma’s raging emotions. 

“I could wipe out the whole realm, right?” 

Uloma cried, frustrated. Her tears stung her eyes, her chest felt congested, and she felt heavier for it. She swiped her runny nose with the back of her hand without a thought, her fair face red and wet from her crying. Emenike still had that thoughtful look. 

“You have much to learn in controlling your powers, I agree. That is why your mother has asked the ancient realm of the Dragons to train you and some of our students. You will all be transferring schools.” 

Uloma shook her head. She did not understand what he was talking about, and he spoke as if he had not heard her. Were they going to send her away? And what did it matter where she went? These things bridged their realm. Was she going to leave everyone behind? 

“I cannot leave my friends.” 

She cried. 

“You are not. This is their fight too. They said as much to me, both of them. You are all going.” 

Uloma’s head reeled. There was so much happening in one day. When did her mother plan all these? What did Emenike know? Or what else was Emenike not telling her? How was Mother moving so fast, like she saw all this coming? The realm of the Dragons? 

“A lot to take in, I am aware.” 

Emenike’s deep voice assured her as if he could read her mind. 

“Do Ekama and Abali know about the realm of the Dragon?” 

Uloma asked at last. 

“No. They do not know about the deaths at your palace and the deaths you gleaned from the mirror either. Only Emenike, Mother, I, and Eligwe are aware of this. The elders and gods suspect, but they do not know everything. They see the things only after the carnage, so they don’t know what it is. Their third eyes are showing them.” 

Asi looked exhausted and pale again. Uloma wanted to go to her, but she knew all that would do was annoy her sister. 

“You look like crap.” 

Asiya told her, Uloma looked at her sister with incredulity but chose to ignore her comment. 

“Uloma, you must not tell your friends what is truly happening. At least not right now.” 

Emenike boomed. Ulo shook her head, sniffling. The tears had stopped, but her nose was trying to run out on her. 

“But I already told Abali, and I am not about to keep secrets from Kama.” 

“The fewer people who know, the better we can control the situation.” 

Emenike told her. 

“But they are my friends, and I trust them; they will not tell anyone.” 

Uloma insisted she could not be expected to keep everyone in the dark. It was bad enough that Mother was already doing it, not telling them everything. 

“Fine, make sure it stays within your circle.” 

Emenike conceded. 

“There is so much for me to do. Preparations for your departure and damage control with the elders. We have to convince them that your leaving is necessary.” 

Emenike muttered the last sentence to himself as he started to fade out of the Tree. Nodding to Uloma, he paused, his swaying beards and robe seemed to pause as well. 

“I will see you later, enjoy your party.” 

He called as he faded away completely. 

“What party?” 

Uloma shouted after him, but he was gone. 

“He is using his third eye. Our school is throwing a party tonight, to show the dark matter things that they did not win. Or some sappy nonsense like that.” 

Asiya told Ulo. 

“What?” 

Uloma asked. Any excuse for a party, there was a reason the Heavenlies always invited their school to theirs, but what Uloma worried about was everyone knowing what she had done at her palace, and her sister seemed to have caught on to this. 

“Don’t worry, they only know as much as their parents know; that is why Emenike does not want more than the people who know the truth to know more.” 

“But do we really know the truth? Don’t you feel like Mother is not telling us everything?” 

Uloma asked her sister. Asiya scoffed. 

“Please. This is our mother we are talking about. Of course, she is not telling us everything. I will see you at the party. I have an Orlu I need to find. The stupid thing left their rubbish string in my hair. I can no longer feel it pulsing, but I don’t want any connections to those hateful beasts.” 

Asiya stumped off. Her green attire looked as if it needed a long rest. Its wearer, on the other hand, looked as if she could do with sleeping, but as if she would punch sleep in the mouth if it stood in her way in that moment. Ulo turned around and walked back through the door to her waiting friends, wiping away the tears on her face the best she could. 

~ 

That night at the party, Ekama had her body on the grass and her head on Uloma’s lap. They whispered to each other. Uloma ran her fingers through Ekama’s weave, one of her legs drawn up, and her other leg stretched across in front of her. Inside her thighs, Ekama softly conversed. They discussed Abali’s strange behavior and about Uloma moving in with Ekama until the Orlus rebuilt her palace. They never spoke above a whisper, yet they were careful not to mention the travel back from the Plain of Bliss, or the thing Uloma had fought. Ulo knew now that her friends had ignored her because the spell and the power that they were casting required that they were dead to everything else, and as for the thing she had fought, everyone at the party was giving her a fraught look, like they were uncertain what to make of her or how to respond to her. It did not matter, though. She had Ekama, exhausted still, as she was, she was Uloma’s shield. 

“You darkies know how to throw a party.” 

Eligwe appeared bearing a keg and tumblers, which he held suspended in front of him. He also had a cup in his hand that he sipped from. Ekama stirred and shot him a look. 

“Hey, that is offensive.” 

She told him, rousing herself, she sat in between Uloma’s thighs, her back against Uloma’s chest, and her head resting under Uloma’s chin. 

“But you brought palm wine, so I forgive you.” 

She snatched the cup he had been sipping from and drank from it. Eligwe, without missing a beat, picked one of the floating tumblers and poured out some of the contents of the keg into it. Uloma watched him silently. He had saved her, but she did not know what to do with that knowledge. She could not depend on him to sort out that emotion either; it was like he revelled in making her uncomfortable. 

“Here.” 

He gave her the tumbler he had poured wine into without even looking at her. 

“What?” 

She asked him. 

“You need to get buzzed as much as the rest of us.” 

He told her. He was giving her his full attention now, but she felt like wiggling away from it. He could make her uncomfortable just by looking at her. It was disturbing. 

“Take it.” 

He pressed the tumbler into her hand, and their fingers touched. Uloma felt herself gasp even before she heard it. 

“Oh, my goodness, undress him already, will you?” 

Ekama told her and chuckled. He chuckled like he was aware of the effect he had on her. Uloma snatched the tumbler from him and downed its contents. The moment was gone, long gone. She narrowed her eyes in annoyance. Why did he always get a reaction out of her? 

“Slow down.” 

He chided as she attempted to pour herself more palm wine. 

“Oh, please. Ulom can out-drink the Dragons.” 

Ekama laughed. Someone cast a light over them, and Uloma’s annoyance seeped away. 

“Echi!” 

Uloma exclaimed. 

“Chi, Chi.” 

Ekama sang, Echi sat beside Uloma, glowing at them. It was so good to see him, and Uloma told him as much; he glowed amber in response. 

“You should only ever glow that colour for me, or I will be seeking other husbands.” 

Ekama teased him. He roared and covered them both, filling them with a giggling fit. 

“Abali.” 

Uloma gasped. She had not heard him arrive. To be fair, the music was loud enough to drown out the night, and the noise of students singing, talking, laughing, dancing, and playing musical instruments was novel. But she knew Abali could walk soundlessly across a quiet room.  

“Goat, you are here.” 

Ekama beamed at him. He nodded at her and sat on the other side of Uloma. He sidled closer to her until there was no space between them. He then rested his head on her shoulder. 

“I am sorry about earlier.” 

He said into her shoulder, his words meant for both girls. 

“Don’t be silly, I am just happy you are here with us.” 

Uloma whispered back. 

“You are an idiot, but what can we do? We manage you as you are.” 

Ekama told him, pulling his hand across herself and Uloma so that he looked like he was hugging them. 

“They sure look cosy, this is why I hate being around them, the sappy best friends trio.” 

Asiya mimed gagging; she was flagged on both sides by her minions. She still looked like she needed a rest, but the fierce dark makeup on her face told you that she would not allow something as fickle and feeble as exhaustion to win. 

“Our minions are here.” 

Ekama exclaimed. Temi and Teni stared daggers at the group and looked around them, puzzled, as if wondering where the minions were. Uloma chuckled at this. She could not help it. Asi narrowed her eyes. 

“Leave them alone.” 

She hissed, Uloma rolled her eyes, and showed her sister her tongue. 

“Real mature.” 

Asiya told her, sitting beside Eligwe, who was watching the proceedings with an amused look on his face. Teni and Temi sat beside their leader, both girls looking protective. The group talked and fought the rest of the night, but the more drinks they had, the less fighting they did. 

“Dance with you?” 

Uloma giggled in response to Echi’s blaze. The night had worn on, and music turned into drums and flutes. There was little singing now, but the atmosphere seemed to prefer this, as young Cosmics pulled each other into a dance. Uloma laughed again and took what passed for Echi’s hands as she allowed him to pull her to her feet. While they danced, he engulfed her, and before long, she was forgetting to be wistful or pretending to be in a jolly countenance because she was genuinely happy as she danced with him. He flared and glowed around her now. 

“I know you did not just make fun of my moves.” 

She squealed, the numerous cups of wine she had consumed making themselves noticeable. He flared and roared in orange. Uloma squealed again, enjoying herself. 

“Oh, so that is your apology, it is on.” 

Uloma told him, throwing her head back in laughter.  

“I feel left out!” 

Ekama pouted, pulling Abali and Eligwe along, kicking and protesting.  

They danced and laughed, comparing moves, even Asiya joined in, cajoled by Eligwe. Hours later, when their feet were too tired from all the dancing, and insisted on taking a break, they fell happily back on the grassy ground, full of laughter and merriment.  

Nothing was wrong. Their lives were not about to change. They were not facing beings beyond their knowledge and expertise. They were simply a group of teenagers, centuries old, laughing and existing in a perfect moment.