Chapter 18: The Path to Chaos

The river flows quietly, the rhythmic movement of the water creating a soft, lulling sound in the otherwise silent night. The sky, still not graced by the full moon, casts a dim light, allowing shadows to dance along the riverbanks. Out of the mist, two figures emerge, their feet barely touching the water's surface as they seem to glide over the river, almost as if running on it.

Adéjinéré and Uwarshigiri appear their footsteps in perfect synchronization until they reach the bank. The moment they set foot on the solid ground, their synchronized movement gives way to a heated argument.

Adéjinéré (persistent): Who did you place your bet on Uwar?

Uwarshigiri (rolls her eyes a smile): You of course

Adéjinéré: And?

Uwarshigiri (smirks, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of mischief and defiance.): Oh Tsunzafi ta I cannot tell you who it is.

Adéjinéré: Why?

Uwarshigiri (smirks, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of mischief and defiance.): And where is the fun in that ehn?

Adéjinéré (still persistent): Uwaaar?

Uwarshigiri (getting tired of the conversation): Tsunzafi taaaaaaa!!! Please enough. Let's change the conversation ooo.

Adéjinéré (retorts, her frustration mounting): And what exactly happened at the stream? You've been avoiding that too.

Uwarshigiri (raising her eyebrow): why do you want to know what happened at the stream?

Adéjinéré: I just want to know.

Uwarshigiri (smirks): is it because of the half-caste maid?

Adéjinéré's face twists in disgust, her curiosity edged with irritation.

Uwarshigiri (laughs, her voice low and mocking): Why Jinéré, why does it bother you so much? What could possibly make you so curious about my little encounter at the stream?"

Adéjinéré (irritated): I was just curious about the event because the way my sister reacted when the maid reminded you about the event and how my sister stopped you from talking. She never keeps secretes from me. But, here you are ...….

Before Adéjinéré finishes her statement, a booming voice echoes from a distance, cutting through their argument like a blade.

"I, too, would like to know what happened at the stream!"

Startled, they turn to see Nwètárà Mmàdùanyì, the protector of humanity, looming in the distance. He sits atop a gruesome throne—a massive pile of skulls, assembled with a grim precision, stretching out over what could be an entire plot of land. The pile is so vast it looks like someone had meticulously gathered every bone and stacked them to form a chilling monument.

Nwe's massive figure is imposing, like a king of the dead, his eyes glinting as he watches them from his eerie perch. The riverbank lies in clear view from his vantage point, allowing him to see the goddesses approach from the stream.

Uwarshigiri (snaps, her voice dripping with disgust as she tries to ignore his intrusive question.): "Since when have you been sitting on that pile of death and dirt?"

Nwè chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that reverberates through the air. He rises slowly from his seat, bones shifting under his weight as he steps down.

Nwè (retorts, pointing an accusatory finger at them.): "I've been here since sunset, Uwar. Unlike the both of you, I am always early when summoned

Uwarshigiri (rolls her eyes, gesturing toward Adéjinéré): "Well, blame the princess for her endless primping. She took hours to dress."

Adéjinéré (fires back): "Don't put this on me! I was busy looking for you, and guess what she was trying to do when I found her, Nwè."

Nwè (voice is thick with sarcasm): "Hmm, let me guess," "was she trying to have a 'ịrụkọrịta'? And what gender this time?"

He waits, his eyes glinting with amusement as he looks at Uwarshigiri. Before Adéjinéré answers, Uwarshigiri cuts in, her voice rising in mock indignation.

Uwar: "I was not! I was just trying to help him with his clothes."

Adéjinéré (crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes): "Help him with what exactly, while you're naked?"

Nwè (gasps theatrically, his voice filled with mock horror): "What kind of help were you trying to render while naked ehn, Uwar?"

Uwarshigiri glares at them both, trying to muster a defence, but the teasing glances and mocking smiles make her give up with a huff.

Uwarshigiri: "Me fa," she mutters, rolling her eyes. "Can't I have a little fun anymore? Nishadi nishadi nishadi. This is what I need before our quest of death. Who knows when we'll return?"

Jinéré and Nwè exchange a glance, their expressions a mix of playful disgust and mockery.

Jinéré (shakes her head, sighing dramatically): "May the gods forgive you."

Uwarshigiri dismisses their mockery with a wave of her hand, changing the subject.

Uwarshigiri: "Where is the ancient one who summoned us?"

As if on cue, Ifádànà appears at the riverbank, a small boat drifting behind him. He surveys the area, his expression unreadable, before making his way toward the group. Nwè is the first to speak,

Nwè (voice tinged with impatience): "Akpukpo, you're late."

Ifádànà (smirks) "Agùn má ní yé, you're early as always."

He glances around, his brow furrowing.

"Where are your boats?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, noticing the ripples left on the water by their arrival. Realization dawns on him, and he rubs his head in frustration.

 "You all ran on the river, didn't you?"

Ignoring his question, the group falls into step behind him as Ifádànà starts moving forward. The air grows thick with tension, and without turning back,

 Ifádànà (voice cutting through the silence): "Spit it out."

Adéjinéré's fists clench, fire igniting in her palms as she strides forward, her anger palpable.

Adéjinéré: "Mó mà pà ẹ," she snarls, "I've warned you not to talk to me using your mind!"

Ifádànà (rolls his eyes addressing Uwarshigiri with exasperation): Uwar

Uwarshigiri: "I swear, you owe me for this."

Uwarshigiri steps in front of Adéjinéré, blocking her path. "Tsunzafi ta, remember the tournament. Don't let me lose my bet. I need both of you in one piece."

Adéjinéré (halts, the flames around her fists flickering out): "It's because of you, Uwar," she mutters.

Ifádànà ( grinning, can't resist a jibe): "You know you're going to lose that bet, Uwar."

Uwarshigiri (throws her hands up in mock frustration): "See who I'm trying to help! Fine, I release her. Go ahead with your madness."

Nwè (chuckles, clearly enjoying the spectacle): "This is going to be fun to watch."

Adéjinéré's fists reignite as she lunges toward Ifádànà, but he sidesteps her attack with ease.

 Ifádànà (tone suddenly serious): "Let's focus on what we came here to do,"

The atmosphere shifts as the group regains their composure. The surroundings, once clear, now begin to fill with a thick fog. The fog swirls and gathers, growing denser with each passing moment. Ifádànà steps forward, his voice low and resonant as he begins to chant raising is right hand little bit to the sky and his left hand close to this face then pointing his right hands to the fog saying: "Bí òrùn ṣe ń ràn, bí osupa ṣe ń tan, jẹ́ kí ọna sí ìkànsí kó yẹ̀, jẹ́ kí ilẹ̀ ikú ṣí."Which translates to: (As the sun shines and the moon glows, let the path to chaos be cleared and let the door to death be opened.)

The words hang in the air, echoing with power as the fog begins to condense into a solid form. The ground trembles, and slowly, a massive golden gate rises from the earth, towering above them like an ancient guardian. The gate, twice the height of a fully-grown palm tree, shimmers with an otherworldly light.

As the gate emerges, the fog dissipates, leaving the group in an eerie stillness. Ifádànà steps forward, raising his hand. "Sí," he commands, and the gate creaks open, revealing a pathway shrouded in darkness.

Without hesitation, the group steps through, and as they cross the threshold, the gate vanishes behind them, leaving no trace of its existence. They find themselves in a new realm, a place where darkness reigns, and the air is thick with the scent of decay.

Uwarshigiri (breaks the silence, her voice teasing.) "Why do I think of the half-caste maid the moment we entered here? Makes me want her more"

Jinéré (glares at her): "Why can you not take anything serious in your life Stop thinking about that maid. We have more important things to do."

Uwarshigiri (smirks, unable to resist a final tease): "Can't I have a little fun anymore, Tsunzafi ta?"

Before Jinéré responds, a deafening roar echoes through the realm, shaking the ground beneath them. Ifádànà's voice rings out; calm but commanding.

"It is time. Prepare yourselves."

Hearing this, the special ones prepare to battle for what they are about to face.