“I have you old one," I answered, my reply sent him into another bout of laughter.

“You’re not only brave but cunny, surely Ogun did not have my backing but you could, if you are willing to accept my patronage; for your skills, strength and iron cutlass will avail you not when you face the daemon deity."

"Who are you who calls Ogun the terrible war god with such familiarity."

"I am Shokoti the elder smith god, he proclaimed, rising up to his full height, it was at my bellows that a young Ogun learnt his trade.’’

I bowed and payed homage.

“Then you must surely have a weapon that can defeat Elegbara I implored.”

Shokoti smiled and answered, “why ask a yam farmer if he knows how to plant and grow cassava, for if he can cultivate yam he will surely know the secret behind planting cassava for are they not both tuber? surely that was not the question I expected from you.

“Give me such weapon if it exist and name your price.’’ I tried again.

I must have answered correctly for his eyes glowed as he smiled and I realized I have been lured into bargaining with a god from which I might pay dearly, and losing Obembe could as well be the least of my problems.

From the fold of his large robe, he withdrew a great axe I couldn’t help but wondered how he managed to fit a weapon of such size on his person, a double bladed weapon of black steel so dark it emits shadows of its own, sigils and symbols crafted all over its edges, a sleek long haft of some burnished metalloid carved with images of unknown idols.

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A thing of terrible beauty, terrible to a foe for the beauty would be the last thing he sees before he is sent on the journey of no return to report his deeds and works to his ancestors. I could hear the sharpness of the axe singing as it cuts through the air.

“This is Oshe,’’ the elder god said, an amused look on his face as I greedily watched him twirl the seemed heavy axe through the air with ease. The shameless biter; forged in my youth, at the peak of my might, melted in the heat of the essence of a long dead god, hammered with his hip bone, tempered with ancient forbidden incantations learnt at a terrible price, and cooled in his blood, I will let you borrow it at a price.

"Name your price my lord." I cried, trying hard but failed to suppress the eagerness in my voice.

"The essence of a god is my price."

“And if I could not get it?” I countered.

“Then your soul will be collateral." he answered calmly like he was mentioning the price of a goat.

I paused at this for my soul is too high a price.

“What if you’re lying, I bluffed, "what if this axe is not as powerful as you said it is and I ended up in the daemon god’s cook pot for my trouble."

Shokoti managed to look offended.

“Howu! An Orisha wouldn’t lie to you and I wouldn’t get his essence for my trouble if he slays you, for your soul is such a cheap compensation.’’

“Lanroye lies all the time and you would still get paid with my life and soul." I smirked.

“I so swear by Eledunmare the creator of all things that the weapon is true,’’ Shokoti answered not amused this time around.

“Well here’s my bargain old man I growled, I’ll take the axe, if I spill the blood of Elegbara with it my soul stays mine, and if I slay him for his useless essence, Oshe is mine forever.’’

“Ashe, It is sealed!!! The ground rumbled as he said this, his annoying smile back on his face, he handed Oshe over to me and I held it aloft to inspect. I felt its glee race through my core, it was happy it had found me, like it was made for me and I for it.

“Together we shall slay a god and achieve greatness you and I." I whispered, it hummed back in appreciation and I smiled.

I turned to address Shokoti but the elder god was nowhere to be found. I strapped Oshe to my back and moved on through the dark forest without a moment hesitation; for I have a god to hunt and a price to pay.