Nikki’s POV

I don’t think I’ve ever felt this cold in my entire life. I knew I had a lot of muscles in my body and although I knew they were capable of so many things I don’t think I’ve ever felt them before and had no idea just how powerful they could be when trying to warm up my body.

Mike immediately removed my wet clothes when he saw the color of my lips and threw his shirt off to me. Neil removed his jeans and handed them over to me and Shango lifted me up and we, it was mostly them as I was not involved much, ran to my lodgings.

We must’ve looked ridiculous, one guy missing his shirt, another missing his pants and a regular looking guy with an afro, carrying someone with too small clothes shivering like an epileptic patient, frantically running in a general direction.

Neil stopped asking me questions when he realized I wouldn’t answer them because I was trying to not forget a single detail told to me by the Godhead by reciting everything under my breath.

Or on top of it.

I wasn’t sure, I was too busy trying to keep my wits about me.

“Oh no!” Neil exclaimed “It’s almost time to meet the council!”

“Then we make sure we get to our lodgings so we get Nikki warmed up…” Mike said, still out of breath.

“But your powers…”

“Nikki comes first,” Shango retorted “besides, we can’t go to a council meeting almost naked and in this state”

I heard the exhaustion in his voice. Strong as he was, I admit I was kind of heavy. I wanted to let him rest, but I couldn’t, I was rather preoccupied with trying not to freezing my ass off.

When we reached the house, everything happened so fast. Nkosi and Kafui were in front of the door and before Nkosi could berate us for being late, he saw the state of our group and held his tongue. Mike then began shouting orders to everyone. Nkosi and Kafui and Shango were to go to the council meeting and stall them as long as they could. Neil was to take a pen and paper and write everything Mike told him while looking for clean pants while hustling me to the bathroom to take a hot shower. Unfortunately, I do not know what happened next as I fell unconscious.

I was lying in bed wearing warm clothes and covered with a blanket by the time I came to. Mike was still dictating and Neil seemed to have written a novel by now. They both looked so tired, Mike with his head in his hands, stuttering over his words and Neil with his unwavering patience just wrote things the best way he could and gave Mike encouraging glances and gestures.

It was hard to believe that a few months ago, we were enemies.

“What time is it?” I asked hoarsely, startling the two. Their heads snapped to my direction and they immediately stooped what they were doing to come closer to me. Mike felt my forehead and made an expression I did not recognize. Neil worryingly passed the back of his hand against my face. I, getting slightly annoyed with the warm hands all over my face, moved my face and groaned. Thankfully, they got the message and stopped the physical assault and commenced with the one that involved staring.

“About 2” Neil answered. One hour after the deadline. I held the sheets protectively, unconsciously waiting for my muscles to contract again, they didn’t.

“How are you?” Mike asked tenderly.

“Well enough for us to the go to the council meeting” I answered as bravely as I could and attempted sitting up. My poor muscles creaked in protest and I winced. Mike and Neil also winced but in emotional support.

“Maybe wait a bit…”

“No Mike, we can’t wait anymore”

Mike looked at Neil who nodded and then he sighed.

When we got there, I wasn’t so confident as I was when I demanded we got here as the looks of disdain and annoyance near crippled me. At the raised podium in front of the wide window that gave the room a look of a modern office instead of a council for the magically inclined, sat a group of 8 regal looking adults in different colored robes. Mike told me that they represent each of the different factions of Vodun. I caught sight of Nkosi at the far right of the table; he gave me a grave smile, his white teeth matching his white robe. I also noticed Afua, Neil’s mum who wore an orange robe. She refused to engage in eye contact with us and in response, Neil’s lips hardened into a thin line. Kafui and Shango sat in front of the council behind a large desk table. When they saw me, they sat up and each hugged me.

“You’re late” a voice boomed from before us. It was a middle-aged man in yellow who sat almost at the middle of the table. Shango squeezed my arm and frowned at the man. I wonder which of them were his parents. We sat down in a long straight line before the council. I looked around us at my friends, their faces so grave and fearful and knew my face masked theirs. I wanted to pray, but there was no one there who could help us.

You are gods, act like one!

We were the ones supposed to help ourselves. How I wished gods that answered prayers were real.

I look a deep breath and squeezed Mike’s hand.

“We already told you what happened…” Kafui began with a sigh, as though he has been saying that for a while.

“And we told you we find that hard to believe” the man in yellow simply stated “We have placated the gods for centuries and they do not speak to the best of us, but they choose to speak to children? Tell us exactly how you expect us to believe this?”

All this time I had been thinking about this in our perspective. We being the good guys and the council members being the bad guys trying to stop us from reaching our goal or being jealous of our extraordinary gift. I never thought about this from their perspective. How long have they called upon the gods for council or help or guidance? How long did it take for the silence to break their hope? Was it anger they felt when children kept on being chosen by the gods instead of them? Or was it despair? Perhaps sadness?

“How then would you explain the bouts of power? The extraordinary feats of strength?” Kafui challenged.

“We do not know” he admitted defeatedly.

“We are telling you it is the gods” Kafui insisted “Do you and Maya think your son is possessed by something else than Shango himself?” the woman in red who I suspected to be Maya and the man in yellow I found to be Kofi exchanged worried glances “Or was it by mere accident that your son is his namesake?” Shango’s face betrayed no emotion but I saw turmoil behind his eyes. “You all cannot and will not tell us that all these years the gods have chosen initiates that you were simply not aware of this…”

“How come then that they do not speak to us?” Maya asked, her voice carrying equal power to her husband “Why do they pick children, people who have no knowledge of Vodun, instead of us who have been training all our lives?”

“Do not pretend you do not know the history of the gods and the council…”

“But that was so many years ago!” Maya insisted “Thousands of years before the Europeans sailed upon our shores! How do they still hold a grudge?”

“They have lived longer than we, knowing better than most the true nature of humans”

Maya’s eyes narrowed at the insult and Kafui looked on without even batting an eye.

“We are beating about the bush” the man in gray sitting beside Nkosi declared “we are not here to talk history, but to decide whether you deserve your power”

There was an involuntary intake of breath from the four of us. I found myself getting mildly irritated. Instead of trying to contact the gods on their own leading to this frustration, couldn’t they try to be on the side of the initiates? I felt there was something missing in between the stories being told to us, something very vital I was missing.

“State your case” the gray man declared.

Kafui got up and stood in front of the desk we all sat on and faced the council members. He had his hands folded neatly behind him and breathed in and out, slowly for about a minute before continuing.

“Brothers and sisters,” he began, his voice projected and ricocheting all around the room, washing over us like a very angry ocean “these children have been touched by the gods. They are to carry out their bidding and it would be unwise to stand in between them and their destiny. We should be assisting them, and guiding them, instead of being hostile and antagonistic toward them. I am aware of what their predecessors have done, rendering us all suspicious of them.” I knew immediately he meant Viviti Mawudↄla, but his use of plural pronouns let me know that she was not the only one to wrong the Vodun community “You forget that many of them too have helped the Vodun community and countries at large. People like Yaa Asantewaa, Asaebu Amenfi and Togbe Tsali are the literal history of this land. Unless we are bold enough to declare the gods enemies of this community, we should do the needful and leave these children alone”

“Have we listened and understood?” The gray man spoke. The council members all nodded.

Not missing a beat, Afua stood up obviously ‘stating the case’ for the council. There was no reaction except Neil’s slow intake of breath.

“State your case”

“Sixty percent of all major Vodun disturbances have been caused by the ‘so-called’ initiates” her voice sounded surprisingly clear and strong, and she continued avoiding eye contact with us the children, looking only at Kafui “From Gnassingbe Eyadema, Idi Amin, Pol Pot as well as major causes of war and conflict. Neither of us can forget the notorious Viviti Mawudↄla, whose name is translated to mean Dark Angel, even if we wanted to, who emerged and has not yet left us, causing havoc and yet escaping justice. These initiates, no matter their origin or where they think they come from, must not be allowed to operate with such power. We are tired of playing dice with these overpowered children. You should be grateful that we are allowing you to leave with your freedom and your lives”

“Was that a threat?” Mike whispered, staring daggers at Afua and I although I wanted to, I couldn’t. I was of the opinion that her gracefully taking me into her home and helping me with registration and whatnot was a sign of kinship towards me and abilities. For the first time, I felt like I had mother, a real mother, who had my best interests at heard and just wanted me to succeed. I wanted to put my head down and wallow, but I had to be strong for my friends. Nkosi kept his face as straight as possible, no emotions leaked out of his face he rested on his right palm.

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

“Have we listened and understood?” Kafui nodded but none of us did “Then here comes our verdict…”

Wait what?

“You can’t do that!” Mike bellowed, getting to his feet. Neil and I glanced at each other and then Mike, willing him to sit down without saying anything. We both held his hand, pulling hum to take his seat but he wretched himself from us and stood his ground.

“You are not permitted to speak” Nkosi said in an even voice.

“How is that fair?”

“Life is not fair” the grey man said, his mouth twisting in distaste “now sit down, boy!”

“I thought you were supposed to make sure that these trials are fair” Mike stated his voice getting angrier “I thought you people were responsible for fairness over here. How am I now finding out you are not?”

I saw the gray man deflate, realizing that he had spoken the wrong words at the wrong time.

“We understand your pain…” the woman beside the gray man who wore purple robes said, trying to diffuse the situation, but Mike was not ready for the situation to be deflated.

“No ma’am you don’t” Mike said “You are not on trial for simply existing”

“Before we give our verdict, we want to bring in some witnesses”

The door behind us opened and 3 people walked in. The first was about 50 years of aged but fit enough for a man younger than he was. He was regal looking in his rich kente cloth draped across him in the typical Akan fashion with gold-colored sandals under his feet. Even his gray hairs made him look more important than old. The next man was the same age as the first man but sustained several burn scars all over his body. His face was in the fashion of clay that was not perfectly molded but was burnt in a kiln to dry anyway. He wore a black batakari with grey slacks and brown sandals. His demeanor was one of someone who stopped caring how he looked a long time ago but did nothing to touch his self-esteem and ego.

The last person was my mother.

When I laid eyes on her, my mouth worked faster than my brain, crying ‘Mum’ faster than I could stop it. I lay my hand on my chest, almost unable to move or speak. Shango who was sitting immediately next to me held on my shoulder and I allowed myself the vulnerability of letting a tear drop. I wonder why he thought I was crying, perhaps out of stress or anxiety. Little did he know my own mother was coming to testify against me in this god-forsaken Vodun court.

Mike looked at her in a tender sort of way, evident from his eyes that he had missed her dearly but he kept standing where he was. She was dressed in a well sewed all black slit and kaba with a simple but fashionable head gear and heels. My heart missed a beat again as I wondered who had died.

“Before us stands our witnesses of 3,” Afua continued in the same monotone voice “The chief of the Ashanti kingdom, Otumfo Kwaku, Kofi Gyaase, representative of the Fante community and Beatrice Ewoenam Asante, the mother of Nikita and Michael Asante”

The chief of the Ashanti Kingdom himself was willing to stand witness against us. He left his regal throne to come here to condemn us kids probably because of what had been done to him in the past by initiates. I never thought of or saw myself as dangerous, although that particular incident with the drums and the sand still sent shivers down my spine and being grateful I had enough restraint not to hurt anyone. However, Viviti Mawudↄla made me scared of myself and the great power residing within me. How could one person cause this much disturbance in our lives this way? Someone I did not even know made me question my morality and whether I would also throw my morals out a window just because a god told me to.

The three walked in a single file, the Otumfo) leading it and my mother at the back. They stood before the council, but before she joined the other witnesses, she came to Mike and held his cheek, begging him to come home. There were tears in both their eyes and Mike just shook his head but leaned into her hand on his face. She did not even spare me a glance when she turned away.

I felt like my heart would explode as I was close to hyper ventilating but I willed my heart to stop thundering its way out of my chest. I was the messenger. I have to save the gods and face anything that stood between us and a lot of important African history being erased. I felt my friends’ and brother’s eyes boring into my skull but I ignored them, looking only at Nkosi. For the first time, he had only one emotion; fear. He tried to smile at me but it made him look like a horror mask.

“What have you seen?” Afua said to them.

“Righteous council,” Otumfo) began in a voice that commanded war soldiers, not took witness against a bunch of teenagers “we are first hand witnesses to these overpowered brutes. My companion alone is enough proof of the insatiable madness that exists within these demons” Mike struggled to get up again in fury but Neil was quick to hold him down this time, willing him to calm down but I couldn’t bring myself to even be angry. No, I was curious; did they really believe all these things about us? “I was there when Viviti Mawudↄla did this to him, in the very room when she burnt him to this extent and then burnt my other colleague to death while he was still alive. God rest Ayinbila. God rest the 7 other families of men, women and children she wiped from the earth”

They had to be mistaken. 7 different group of people? How come? What kind of monster murders so freely? I could almost smell the scent of singed flesh. It near drove me to insanity. This was not the first time I have heard of her, but there were never any details. The details chilled and hardened me. The very thought of an African serial killer was laughable, but to this extent? No wonder they were terrified of us, I would be too.

There was a moment of silence before he continued in righteous anger “Fiifa Nkosi too was in the room when the Dark Angel did this. Oh, it pains me greatly to see him fighting for these ones” everyone turned to Nkosi but his face was the perfect mask “There have been many more Vodun serial killers before her, most of them initiates. We have been spared wrath from these ones due to the proper upbringing of their caretakers, or else what kind of evil would they have unfolded?” I looked to my mother, whose back faced me. What does he mean by ‘proper upbringing of their caretakers’? Was attempting to kill them also part of this care? “I can speak to fill a thousand pages, but this is our tale. Take the evil that is within them away and save this community. For this I have spoken”

The place felt suddenly empty without his voice, as though the very sound waves gave the air molecules life and now that the energy was gone, they all fell to sleep.

“What have you seen?” Afua said to my mother.

She removed a black handkerchief from her bag and then dabbed her eyes with them and then turned to Mike and for the first time made eye contact with me. I regretted instantly wishing that she would acknowledge my existence because the look she gave me was enough to send me to hell. I felt Shango squeeze my shoulder even harder and that was the only thing keeping me sane.

“Righteous council,” the sound of her voice breaking was doing same to my heart and the tears flowed more freely now. What is wrong with me? Why do I still feel so much for this woman? “She closed the wombs of all the women in my family. She cursed us so that none would even prosper. She killed my father, she killed my mother, she killed my brothers!” Gyaase put a hand over her shoulders and she sobbed freely into his shirt “She said she would open our wombs if she had her way with my husband and then she forced us to take the child!”

For a moment, I could not hear anything, the world was moving too fast. I griped Shango for grounding, because I could swear I was floating. She didn’t have to say it. I knew who she was. I knew who the murder’s child was.

I always suspected that I was not her child because sometimes the things she did to me were not things mothers did to their children. I now began to understand her, the looks of hate, the whispered prayers, her fear whenever Mike and I were alone, how she seemed to never sleep but stared and prayed hours un-end during the night.

Most of the council members eye’s widened in shock and many of them searched my face. The silence was like the pull of the ocean and it threatened to wash over me and deliver me to unconsciousness. The only thing I focused on doing was keeping my grip on Shango, because the moment I let go, I do not know what I would do. Nkosi’s eyes were filled with pain as I looked at him and he shook his head several times refusing to believe anything he was hearing.

1

2

3

4

Calm. Calm Nikita, be the eye of the storm. Be the calm in the night. Be the rest in war.

Be still my child. Mawu said, comforting me. I thought of the sheer amount of energy she was using just to keep me calm and for once, I was appreciative of her.

I took one deep long breath in and another out several times until the room stopped spinning so fast.

“…initiates are pure unbridled evil council!” my mother wailed; she was at the point of hysteria “do not let them leave here with their wits about them!”

There was a long pause as they spoke amongst themselves and Gyaase and the Otumfo) tried to calm my…

Tried to calm Ewoenam.

For the first time, I looked to my right. Mike was near hysteria, shaking and wailing in deep utter despair and Neil held Mike’s face against his chest. Only when Neil looked at me did he shed one tear, one single lone tear that travelled his face slowly and touched the upper part of his lip.

“I’m so sorry” he mouthed. What was he sorry for? He has done nothing wrong, he has been nothing but amazing and good to me, to us.

It was the Blood Queen. She did this. She has taken my world and upturned it and messed it up so bad. I did not know what right was, or where left was. My whole life, a lie, a distraction, a stupid fucking fantasy of the truth. The truth that hit me so hard and left me reeling. Mike, who was my world, a part of me, my other half, my twin, was my half-brother, a mere sibling.

I will find her. I swear on this sinking pain inside my chest. I will find her and I will make her pay. She will answer for all this.

“The vote is unanimous” The gray man bellowed above all the voice. At least he had the decency to be remorseful.

The answer was obvious. The gods would not come back, I would be nothing. With no home, no family, no love from anywhere.

Do not leave us! Help us, please!

How? How am I supposed to help? It is out of my control? What can I do?

A verdict cannot be struck without the accused present.

Ifa’s silk voice insisted. He never speaks to me, but I suppose Mike is currently indisposed. I could only imagine the amount of energy it was taking for the two of them to be communicating with me right now.

Focus child! There can be no verdict!

Be the eye in the storm.

Then it clicked.

“STOP!” my voice did not sound like my own. It sounded so hoarse and raw that I did not recognize it. I slowly stood up and almost stumbled but Shango held my waist in an instant. The movement released my grip and I saw the bleeding crescents on his arm. I realized I was not griping with my fingers, but my fingernails. There was red under my fingernails.

I am a monster. I am a monster like my mother.

“You are not allowed to speak!” The voice was so hostile that I flinched. Afua, the woman who treated me with so much love and tenderness a few months ago, spoke to me with such venom. I wanted to crawl into a ball and then stay there for a long time. I wanted to fall into despair because at this point it was the only thing willing to accept me.

“You can do it,” Shango urged “you are Mawu’s representative on earth. No one can tell you what to do” I allowed myself to believe him, even it was for a few seconds. Despair would have to wait a few minutes. The painful truth was this was not about me, it was about all of us.

“A verdict cannot be struck without the accused present” I stated simply. I hated how small my voice sounded.

The council members looked among each other whispering in confusion. I refused to look at the witness because I knew I would find hate and pain and I refused to look at my friends because I knew I would find pity and sadness. Most of all I refused to look at Mike, because I knew I would find a despair so deep and so enticing, it would make me give up and I know I cannot give up, no matter how enticing it looks.

“We are aware of that” Nkosi said, cutting his comrades short “The accused are here, you, your brother and Shango…”

“There are 8 of us…”

Then I saw red.

Her strength filled me, calmed all my aching bones. Her peace washed over me, her madness, her despair, her will to succeed no matter the cost. Shango released my waist and stood on his own. His fearsome eyes were glowing a brilliant orange and he looked very much like his namesake. Mike’s eyes glowed a calm blue and he too stood up, his face clear and tears glowing a brilliant blue.

“A preparation. A party” We chorused in a fearful chant accompanied by strong gusts of wind and an earthquake that shoke the building “A welcoming. Of knowledge, of sun and moon, of lightning and thunder, of war and iron. It is a paved way with messengers, of war and of love”

I felt Mawu stir with anger towards the council members. “On our return, you will be the first I rip apart”

Then they left us. They both sat in a heap but I kept standing as I was the only one to expect this.

“You cannot try us” I said with sudden clarity. I stared into each of the eyes of the witnesses, which were filled with fear now “You cannot try and met judgment to a man who is not here” I then looked up to the council members, many of whom were clutching each other in fear “We will leave. And we will bring our brothers and sisters, then you may try us. The grace period is 2 years. We will be back in 1”

The gray man nodded in fear. I nodded to complete the agreement.

Nkosi sat up and began walking towards us.

“Take me away Shango” I was swimming. Swimming in despair, in betrayal, in heartbreak. Everything had a shadow to it. I could not face anyone right now especially Mike. I couldn’t, I would break apart.

“Where?” he said standing up to attend to me.

“Anywhere, just get me out of here”