Ihe ehi hụrụ gbalaba oso ka okuku huru na-atụ onu
Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
He loved running almost as much as he loved eating food out of bins for the past four years which—self-explanatorily—he didn't love that much. It had been years since he had an asthma attack but suddenly he could feel one creeping up, threatening to darken his vision and take his valuable breath away. He felt the rhythm of his feet hitting the wet, marshy ground, hearing the faint voice of the driver.
"Ole," the driver shouted from the distance, "ole!"
He ran past all the stalls, pushing shirts, trousers and the occasional livestock out of his way. He didn't think about the faces he passed at the marketplace that looked at him with disgust. He also didn't mind the fact that there was now a small mob coming together, chasing him. He just paid attention to the ground, tried to keep his rhythm going. Years on the streets had made him lean and fast. You needed to be able to move at any moment's notice when you were on the run.
He heard the mob shout louder and his heart skipped a beat. Anything that could excite a frenzied mob was not something he was excited to see. The shouts got louder and before Odion could even look back to see what was going on, there was a sharp crack at the back of his head, just at the base of his skull. The pain and shock of the attack made him stumble and he slipped on the wet ground and dived into the ground. He touched the back of his head and his fingers came back bloodied. He saw a broken Coke bottle on the ground. He always hated Coke and he knew it would be his downfall one of these days, literally it seemed. He was lying down face up on the wet marshy ground, feeling the vibrations on the ground of the oncoming mob. He was bleeding and tired, all he wanted to do was sleep, retreat into the darkness that threatened to encroach into his vision. He felt the blood at the back of his head fall into drops and onto the ground. Just one second wouldn't hurt, he thought. Just one.
"Not yet, my child," a feminine voice said from above him. He opened his eyes, fighting the fatigue and tiredness and what he saw took his mind a couple of seconds to understand. She was a beautiful woman, she looked around thirty-two with striking figures. Her fair was let down, jet black adorned with bright attractive jewels, there were so many that Odion couldn't even begin to name all of them. Her eyes were a dark brown, a shade almost resembling obsidian. Odion attributed it to his lack of blood that was making him dizzy but he could swear that the woman's brown dress was flowing but in a strange way. As she moved, it broke apart and was soon replaced by new...soil? Odion tried to look more closely at the woman and he realised that her dress was made entirely of dirt. He looked again at her face and was greeted by a warm ethereal smile.
"Not yet." She said again as Odion gave into the darkness that had been calling him and finally lost consciousness.
~
Odion normally didn't dream. Whenever he slept, he slept like a rock, no dreams just blank darkness. But ever since his life had been ushered into this weird new phase of gods of magic, strange changes had been happening deep within him. He could feel himself unravelling piece by piece, like his mind and body were actually accommodating the fact that this whole world was bigger than he had thought all his life. It was strange, though, instead of shock, he felt a sense of completeness. Like he had been waiting all his life for the last piece of this jigsaw so that the puzzle could make sense, revealing a picture far bigger than he could ever imagine.
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As he slept, his mind swirled with images, some familiar and some strange. It was like his consciousness was scrolling through channels like on a TV and looking the most interesting scene. The image finally settled and what Odion saw made his skin crawl.
"So, do we have an agreement?" Eshu asked the person he was speaking to as he was seated on a circular table with an umbrella ticking out the middle. They seemed to be outside. He was dressed with a green long sleeve shirt and was sporting cargo shorts. He wore sunglasses on his face to protect his eyes from the glare of the hot Nigerian sun but even with the glasses, Odion could still see and feel the cold gaze of his emerald eyes.
The man he was talking so shifted on his seat uneasily while smoking a brightly lit cigarette. He was also wearing sunglasses but unlike Eshu, those eyes did not encase entrancing eyes. The man was dressed in a camouflage uniform like the ones they wore in the Nigerian army except this man's uniform was a blood curdling red and on his back was slung a long gun that looked suspiciously like an AK-47 made completely of solid silvery iron. His voice sounded like he'd been fed chainsaws at a young age and the very sound of it made Odion want to run away and hide somewhere safe. The man's aura betrayed the fact that he was a god, it was unlike anything Odion had felt before. Staying next to this man made him feel angry. He clenched his fists in frustration. He hated his life and the course it had taken. Why couldn't he just have a normal life?
Be still, boy, be calm. These thoughts are not completely you own, a still voice said inside him.
Odion took a few deep breaths and slowly but surely, he could feel himself getting calmer. He shook his head finally and returned his attention to the conversation in front of him.
"You know I don't like to get involved in these trivial issues. Point me an enemy and I'll kill him, especially if they're affiliated to that fool, Amadioha." At the last word, he spat on the ground with deep loathing. "This boy you speak of; I have no problem with him. In fact, his very existence could be just the starter for an even greater scale of war that I've been itching for." With this, he tapped the butt of the cigarette on the nearby ashes and brushed off the ashes as he put it back in his mouth.
Eshu smiled and Odion saw his eyes shine a little more as he leaned forward into the table to get closer to the man and spoke in a barely audible voice. "Sure, the boy may not seem like much now, but he could become a problem in the future. He's the son of Lotanna Enitan after all," at this, Ogun flinched a little, a movement that was barely perceptible, but Odion saw it and he felt the anger that rippled of Ogun, "he could try to usher in a new age of peace and tranquillity. There will be no more wars, Ogun. Is that what you want?"
Ogun, so that was his name, what was he the god of again? Cigarettes? Bad voices?
Eshu's eyes were practically lit right now and Odion wondered briefly if Ogun could notice. Ogun sat there and seemed to contemplate what Eshu was telling him. He looked briefly at Eshu and their eyes locked. He took a long swig from his cigarette and blew the smoke in Eshu's direction. "Okay then, I'll send someone to take care of the little boy, but old friend, why can't you take care of the boy yourself?"
Eshu leaned back into his chair. "Well, I would but right now I'm gathering my power."
"For what?" Ogun asked inquisitively.
"That's for me to know and you to find out later when I'm done." Eshu replied with a sly smile. "So, I guess we're done here, Ogun. And you, boy," He said as he turned his head sharply to Odion's direction as if he could see him and Odion felt fear ripple through his spine. "You better learn to run; you're now being hunted."
On saying this, he laughed. A cruel, cruel laugh.