"Kola, am I a reasonable man?" Faye asked. "Yes, oga," Kola said. "Why are you shaking na? You will make people think I'm unreasonable, o," Faye said with a strong tone, gesticulating with his hands and eyes. "No, No, I'm not shaking," Kola said, trying to keep his composure. "Do I not look reasonable?" Faye turned to his gang. "Over reasonable is worrying you," Sapara shouted. "Too much," the rest chorused. "Now Kola, you came to us with your problems and as businessmen, we listened. We gave your farm a platform to grow and all we asked was for a token. Small thing o, we are not greedy. If you ask me for palm wine now, I will give you because I'm not greedy", Faye said. "Oga, not the palm wine", Sapara said softly. "Ooooh, you talk too much. Farabale je kin soro (Calm down, let me talk)", Faye shouted turning to Sapara with disgust on his face. "Tuale", Sapara said hailing him. 

Dami's eyes opened slowly to the sight of a young boy staring at him. He yanked himself up. The startled boy ran out of the room screaming, "Father, father, he is awake!" Dami caressed his head in a subconscious attempt to ease his headache. He looked around. He was on a mat in a small hut lit by firewood in a corner. There were different calabashes at the four corners of the room. A man rushed in through the open door. Dami, still trying to gather his composure, said, "Where am I?" "You are safe in my compound, warrior," the man said. "I apologize for my son. He was only curious," the man added. "How did I get here?" Dami asked. "I found you lying unconscious close to my maize farm. I saw the mark of the Hand of Olodumare on your shoulder and decided to help you, but then I realized who you are and was glad I made that decision," he said. "My name is Kolawole," he added. "You know who I am, you said," Dami responded. "You are popular around here, Balogun Otubu. Everyone remembers your heroics during the war between Ijebu Ode and Weme Warriors from Dahomey that spread into our lands. You saved many of our people that day," Kolawole said. Dami tried to get up, but Kolawole insisted that he rest. "Rest, great warrior. You are among friends. Drink this. It will give you strength," he said. Dami was skeptical at first, but he sensed no malice or ill intentions from his savior. He took the medicine and went back to sleep. It was noon. Darkness was upon them in no time. The moon smiled down on Kolawole's children as they ran circles around the burning firewood at the center of the compound. The merry voices of men and women woke Dami up. He was feeling much better now. He walked out of his hut into a cheerful environment. Kola's wife, Tosin, sat on a mat close to the fire, telling tales by moonlight as the children of the compound gathered around in excitement. Kola spotted Dami walking up to them. "He wakes finally," he said cheerfully. Dami sat on a log of wood close to the fire. "Thank you for your hospitality. I feel much better now and must be on my way," Dami said. "At least spend the night. My wife has made amala, gbegiri, and ewedu with goat meat for you. Eat and rest till tomorrow, then you can be on your way. Please let my wife treat you for tonight," Kola pleaded. Dami found it difficult to turn down his request. "Gbemi, go and bring boda's food," Tosin said to her daughter. Gbemi ran cheerfully to the kitchen and brought a wooden tray filled with a calabash of food. She smiled at Dami as she dropped it in front of him. Her smile warmed his heart. He was disarmed completely by the innocence of a ten-year-old. He ate to his heart's content while listening to the folk tales Tosin told, which brought back memories of his childhood. Kola sat beside him on the log of wood after he had finished eating. "So, what brings you to Isheri?" Kola asked. "I was supposed to be passing by. I'm heading to the neighboring town of Ota in search of someone," Dami replied. "Who do you seek?" he asked further. Dami looked at him with a side-eye. Kola was flustered. "I mean, if you tell me, I could be of assistance. There are few secrets between both towns, and stories travel fast and far around here," he said nervously. Dami figured there was no harm in telling him. He was starting to warm up to his host. "I'm looking for an old babalawo that was last seen in Ota a few years ago, but it seems like he has vanished," Dami said. "The only babalawos in Ota over the years are the Aiyetoro family, and their head, Gbenga Aiyetoro, is affiliated with the Hand of Olodumare and a member of Igbomi Ifa. Surely, you know of them," Kola said. "Indeed I do, but the man I seek is not one that wants to be found, so his whereabouts would not be so easily ascertainable," Dami said. "Aiyetoro and the apprentices of a few Orishas were stationed in Ota to deal with the threat of higher darklings, Iyami Osoronga, that terrorized Ota. Their secondary mission was also to track the man I seek, but they lost his tracks before they could find him," Dami added. "There is a tale of an old man with an opele neck chain that circulated the towns many years ago," Kola said. "The warriors of Awori Kingdom who patrolled the villages in Ota often met a nice old man clothed in white wrappers heading for the market square at Sango Ota. He told them he preferred to buy food items at night because it was peaceful and quiet. The food items were left by market women on their slabs and tables as is the usual practice so travelers at night can pick what they choose and leave cowries  in exchange. Over time the warriors grew fond of him till one curious warrior decided to follow him to know where he lived. He was a great tracker so he was not spotted by the old man, and he kept his distance. They walked many miles till they got to the dark forest of Elegua east of Ota and close to the borders of Ikorodu. The warrior was shocked beyond comprehension when the old man walked into the dark forest", Kola narrated. Both men realized that the attention of the children and Tosin had shifted to them. There was silence in the compound worthy of a scary tale, and it was a tale that scared the communities for a while. The farm workers living with Kola who were also enjoying the merry environment locked onto the story as well. Kola continued. "The warrior went back and reported to the others. They took the message to the Baale of Ota and the Oba of Awori. They planned for his return, and next time, they were ready for him", Kola narrated, and indeed they were. Ifaseyi walked into Sango Ota on a usual night for him, but it was unusually quiet. The warriors that greeted him along the way were nowhere to be found. He was a few yards from the market square when he sensed danger. The atmosphere around his body dispersed over Sango Ota so he could feel and sense the warriors hiding, waiting to ambush him. He sensed a powerful being amongst them. Suddenly, lightning struck a corner between massive huts. Electricity discharged into the atmosphere. The lightning remained connected to the corner. Ifaseyi figured out who was sent to confront him. Sango leaped into the air coated with lightning which remained connected to the sky. The Oba had sent word to the Hand of Olodumare, suspecting the old man to be Elegua in disguise or a higher darkling of like strength, so they sent a divine messenger of Olodumare to aid them, Sango, the Orisa of Thunder and Lightning. Sango let out a battle cry. His eyes widened in excitement for the impending battle. He came crashing down on the old man with both fists, hammering him into the ground. The earth quaked. The ground ripped open on impact, and everywhere was filled with dust. When the dust settled, the old man was nowhere to be found. "You destroyed him with a hit", one of the warriors said. The others cheered the mighty Sango. "Quiet! You fools. I missed", the angry Sango said. "Spread out and find him", he commanded, but the old man was nowhere to be found. "That was the last they saw of him", Kola said. "Aiyetoro was called to assess the market square but there was no sign of ill curses. From that day on, they remained alert in case he returned. The market women still mention that cowries are left and their goods taken in exchange but the warriors remain certain that they saw no one approach the market square", Kola said ending his story. "Okay that's enough, it's late now", Kola said, dispersing his audience. Dami felt his sword being pulled. He turned back and it was the four year old boy he first saw when he woke up. He looked into is eyes brimming with curiosity. Tosin quickly grabbed him. "Stop that", she said to the boy. Kola laughed. "I'm so sorry my friend, that boy is just too curious for his own good", he said. Dami smiled. "Rest and we shall bid you farewell tomorrow", he said to Dami and they called it a night. A woman screamed in horror. Dami jumped up from his mat. The morning light shining through the window was blinding. He realized he had slept longer than he had intended. More importantly, he remembered the scream. Someone was in trouble. He grabbed his sword beside the mat, wore his sokoto, and sprinted out of his hut. The compound had huts built to form a circle. The center was spacious and used for many activities. There was a short wooden wall built behind the huts to form an enclosed compound with a wooden gate serving as an entrance. There was a small crowd at the wooden gate. Dami ran towards them. Kola's workers stood by him while he was talking to six people who stood opposite him. Five men dressed in tattered outfits and long and short sokotos, while a young woman sat on their wagon, which was parked in the large pathway between Kola's maize field behind them. Kola sounded agitated. Dami squeezed past the workers and saw one of them on the floor in a pool of his own blood. He had a knife injury. A woman sat on the floor beside the injured man, crying. "We haven't produced much lately, and I'm struggling to pay my workers. Surely, your Oga will understand that. You know our predicaments," Kola tried to explain. "Why are we listening to him? Let's scatter his teeth on the ground, then he will know we are serious. Slap all of them up," Sapara, one of the gang of six, said with much violence in his voice and gestures. "Farabale (Calm down)," Faye said. He had an imposing figure and seemed to be the leader of the pack. His hair was shaved back in vertical lines in-between to form a zebra pattern. The scar on his face complemented his scary nature. They held spears, swords, and knives reeking of palm wine laced with intoxicating herbs. To be continued...

Ìlé-Ifẹ̀, the center of divinity, is dubbed the ancestral home of the Òrìṣà. It was home to one of the Forebearers of Life, Odùduwà. The sunrise coated the town with a glow worthy of its divine heritage. The streets were unusually empty, and the silence at the King's market was deafening. The town still mourned the passing of Òrúnmìlà, an Òrìṣà Àgbà whose influence in the Yorùbá lands was second to none. Like a nightmare, the indigenes of this historic town woke up to the sad news a week ago. Tales of his heroic deeds while they slumbered weighed heavily on them. The sunrise was a testament to his sacrifice. For some, Òrúnmìlà's death was only a drop in the ocean of pain as the Benin war preceded his passing. Tobí was such a person. He laid his head on the side of the mat on which his brother slept unconsciously, his body lying on the floor below the bamboo mat frame. He raised his head with drowsy eyes to a resounding cock crow. His brother had been unconscious for a week. The healers at the great Ifá temple, beneath the giant divine tree of 16 branches symbolizing the sixteen principles of Ifá, were unsure whether he would wake from his long slumber. He looked at his brother's still body and dropped his head in disappointment. His mother begged him to come home, but he would not leave his brother's side. His spirit was raised by the call of his name, "Tobí," Dámí said in a low voice. He lifted his head with great enthusiasm. "Brother!" Tobí screamed. He sprang up and dashed out through the door with such youthful energy one would expect from a seventeen-year-old. The clattering beads of the door curtain mirrored his excitement in his wake. Tobí dashed through many corridors and stairs, bumping into Àwòṣ and Bàbáláwos along the way. He rushed upwards through the Ifá citadel till he reached the exit of the cave beneath the great divination tree. He looked like a small insect beside the tree's protruding roots. He turned his head left and right as if he was looking for something he had lost desperately. "Up the tree," he said to himself while looking up with the morning brightness interfering with his sight. He rushed up the stairs around the massive trees which housed a great Ifá community. Each branch of the tree carried many houses. The stairs were sophisticated, and several wooden floors and pathways connected different sides of the tree. He kept advancing upwards, panting all the way. "As sad as we are, the seat of Bàbáláwo Orun is empty. It is important that it be filled given the passing of your great father and our mentor, Òrúnmìlà," Ifákànmí, one of the senior Ifá priests referred to as Agba Babalawo, said. "It is too early for such a thought, my friend," Ifáyẹmí responded while leaning on a wooden rail on a floor fixed to the stem of the divination tree. Their white garments resonated with the morning brightness. "Besides, there are others suited for the role, like my sister Ifákẹ́mi," he continued."But one must possess the strength to use the first principle of Ifá. Only you can use it now that your father has passed," Adeifa, another senior priest, mentioned. "Do not equate me with my father," Ifayemi said in a slightly strong tone, turning to face Adeifa. The priests fell silent for a moment. "Besides, I cannot use it through my strength like he can," Ifayemi said in a softer tone. "Egbon (Senior brother) Ifayemi!" someone called. Ifayemi looked around to see Tobi rushing towards him with joy on his face. "Do not run carelessly at this height, Tobi," Ifayemi cautioned. "Apologies, Egbon," he said while trying to catch his breath. "My brother is awake," he said with a big grin on his face. Ifayemi's face lit up with joy. "Come! Let's go to him," Ifayemi said. They rushed down the stairs and made it to Dami's room as quickly as they could. Dami sat upright on the bamboo frame. His chest and midsection were covered with bandages. His hair was thick and bushy. Ifayemi and Tobi barged into the room. Tobi ran to hug his brother, wrapping his arm around his midsection. "Gently, Tobi," Dami said. "Sorry, brother," Tobi responded, withdrawing a bit. Tears started rolling down his eyes. "I thought I lost you," Tobi said, sobbing. "Who would make sure you don't get in trouble? No way I'm leaving you alone with mother," Dami said. Tobi smiled underneath his tears. "Good to see you are up, my friend. You scared a lot of us," Ifayemi said to him. "Thanks to you and the Ifa priests, I'm sure," Dami responded. "How did the war go?" Dami asked. Ifayemi was silent for a few seconds. "Please excuse us for a while, Tobi," Ifayemi said with a pat on Tobi's shoulder, who obliged. Ifayemi narrated all that transpired after Dami fell during the war of Benin. The Hand of Olodumare was victorious but at a great cost: the near extermination of the Eso, the deaths of Amadioha and Oya. But their woes did not end after the battle ended. The darkest night since the rise of the Forebearer's ages ago befell them. The Hand of Olodumare referred to it as the Black Night. It was the greatest threat their generation had faced, and it happened on the eve of the Benin war. It cost them the life of Orunmila to see the light of a new day. The disappearance of Rana, one of the eight and most powerful Orisa Agba, was also linked to the same event. It was too much for Dami to take in at once. "I slumbered while all these happened," he said with much disappointment in himself. "Do not be hard on yourself, my friend. You played a vital role in our victory at Benin. It was the will of Olodumare that it happened so," Ifayemi said in a bid to console him. However, it wasn't working given the high expectations Dami placed on himself. He was a Prime Messenger of Olodumare, and in their direst moment, he was not strong enough to aid their cause. Dami was quiet for a while. "I need to rest," he said, breaking his silence and lying on the mat. "Certainly, my friend, certainly."I hope to see you fully recovered soon," Ifayemi said before walking out of the room. Dami pondered deeply. He felt useless. His hard work and prowess with the sword earned him the title of Balogun Otubu, a warrior of Ijebu Ode feared across the divine kingdoms. He became the deadliest member of an elite group known as Emi Ida (Spirit of the Sword). When it came to wielding a blade, none could rival him. But his swordplay could only take him so far in a world of Orisa, powerful Ifa priests, Oruka Ifihan (Rings of Revelation), higher darklings, and cosmic enemies. He wielded a powerful sword forged by Ogun as an acknowledgment of his strength, and he was called to the greatest honor amongst the divine kingdoms: a messenger of the Hand of Olodumare. He rose to the rank of a Prime Messenger with his swordplay alone. He was an awo at a younger age, but his talent with ase was considered weak. He picked up the blade and became who he was today. He gnashed his teeth as he lay on the mat. His battle with Doroteia, who wielded a pinch of Okunkun's strength, was a disgrace to him. Although he defeated his enemy, he barely survived. He needed to improve; he needed to be stronger. He only knew the way of the blade, and no one could improve his skill in that regard—no one but himself. He believed he still had much room for improvement. A thought crossed his mind: how could he face himself? Constant life-and-death battles with himself would greatly improve his skills.  An idea came to his mind. He remembered a forbidden curse Babalawos used to turn a person against him or herself. They could be killed by their own shadow. It entailed using the dark side of ase, similar to Okunkun's manipulation and was banned by Orunmila. It was rumored to have been modified in the past for those who wished to fight themselves, but only a powerful Ifa Priest skilled in ase creation could pull off such a feat. None of the Ifa Priests at the temple's citadel would attempt it, given their devotion and fellowship to Ipa-Ona Orunmila (the Path of Orunmila). The Ifa religion was regulated by Igbimo Ifa, of which Orunmila sat at the head of the organization as Babalawo Orun. Other Ifa priests outside this fellowship were tied to Egbe Okunkun, the direct enemies of the Hand of Olodumare. But there was one said to have rivaled Orunmila's strength in his heyday. He was an Agba Babalawo that stood above all others but the Babalawo Orun. The citadel's library was named after him, Ifaseyi Bioku. He left Igbomi Ifa many years ago after losing his only son in battle and vanished. The Hand of Olodumare and Igbomi Ifa kept track of him for a while to ensure that he did not fall to a dark path given his strength, but they lost him at some point. His last sighting was at Ota in the Awori Kingdom. If anyone could do what he wanted, it had to be him. A fire lit up in his heart. He had to get stronger, and he was going to. Tobi ran off to Ifayemi a second time. "Egbon, my brother is leaving," he said, barging into his lair in the citadel. Ifayemi paused his meditation with his eyes wide open. He stood from his crouching position. "Take me to him," he said to Tobi. Dami fastened his sword to his saddle. He wore dark shokoto as a symbol of his heavy heart owing to Orunmila's death. The bandages around his chest and abdomen were so fastened to his body that you could see the shape of his abs and muscles through them. He was getting ready to mount his white horse when Tobi called out, "Brother, wait!" he yelled while rushing to his side. Ifayemi was not far behind him. "Where are you off to, my friend?" Ifayemi asked. "I'm heading home. You have done enough for me. I shall tend to my wounds when I get to Ijebu Ode," Dami responded. "It's best you recover fully before setting off lest you worsen your condition," Ifayemi tried to convince him. "I have made up my mind. It's best I leave as soon as possible. I have matters to tend to," Dami insisted. "Very well, very well," Ifayemi said in his usual speech pattern. "At least let me teleport you home," Ifayemi offered. "Thank you, friend, but I wish to take the long route," Dami responded. "Let me follow you, brother," Tobi offered. "No, the Agba Babalawo will teleport you home," Dami said to him. "Very well, very well. Take this medicine for your travels," Ifayemi said, handing him a gourd filled with medicine which Dami collected with thanks. "Farewell, my friend, farewell," Ifayemi said. Dami rode off into the woods, to the dismay of Tobi, who received a consoling rub on his head from Ifayemi. Dami rode day and night with little rest. He galloped through thick forests, high and low terrains, and shallow streams till he reached the outskirts of Isheri. He started feeling nauseous and dizzy. Sweat dripped down his cheek. He reached for the gourd Ifayemi gave him to take some medicine. The journey was taking a toll on his condition. He searched around his saddle but he could not find it. It must have dropped somewhere along his journey. He wiped the sweat off his face, riding slowly as his vision began to fade. He fell off his horse close to a large maize field and lost consciousness. To be continued...

"How have you attained such a technique?" Ifayemi asked. Akogun laughed out loud. "I didn't know I was a descendant of the ancient Ifa priests until I wielded the staff. It revealed things I'm capable of. I'm not the same warrior you edged in battle countless times," Akogun said. 

Orunmila sat on a cloud far above them, watching the battle closely. He respected his son's wishes and left him to handle it, but he never said he couldn't watch. He trusted his son to handle Akogun, but the fate of their lands required his presence as assurance. Deep down, he was excited to see how far his son had progressed as a Babalawo, a future Orisha Agba and Arch Messenger of the Hand of Olodumare. 

A few years before the tragedy of the black night, an isolated event occured that threatened the fate of the world. A thunderous voice echoed through the walls of the sacred temple of Ifa at Osogbo. The vegetation around the temple felt Orunmila's anger as the atmosphere made their stems wiggle. The still waters of the Osun river were churned. "Who did this?" Orunmila yelled. The frown on his face deepened his wrinkles. The babalawos lined up before him kept their gaze fixed on the ground. The wooden torches stuck to the walls illuminated the room. Their white itagbes shone brightly with their opele neck chains fastened around their necks.