Survival Of The Cursed

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 1᯾ 𝖄𝖕𝖔𝖓 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕭𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝕲𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉

18 Years Later. . .

Ifé.

The moon, like a knight of light, set the darkened sky with its face ablaze. The view of the ancient Oyo Empire–A well-enriched town ruled by 5 Giants is the capital territory of the Western part of Nigeria but, unfortunately, faces the same fate as Odo-Ara. Mounted on an island, it bridged somewhere unknown, the city wall to the rest of the world. 

It was a moonrise to the full moon. The night wind hit the air violently, while the birds cried in the sky. Unable to sleep. Unable to settle in their dusty nests. Most trees were dry and lifeless, while the others took the leafy ones down and burned them into ashes in the form of firewood. 

‘Craw! Craw! Craaaaawww!’

‘Craaaa! Craw! Craaaaaa!’

‘Craw! Craw! Craaaaawww!’

The homeless birds croaked to the sound of vultures, ground hornbills, ravens, owls, and bats mixed with the faint voices of people partying in the gods’ hall–Shrine. Two women in particular entertained the gathering. Their voices were carried sweetly upon the gentle breeze. The people were celebrating the tenth millennium since giants started ruling in Ife, Oyo-Ile. Ten millennia of their reign and tenure. 

The low hum of melodious drum beatings filled the air. Rhythmic songs and dancing steps accompanied the chime of tingles of the night. The fire crackled in mighty calabashes hung on artistic stands and the rust chains that held them from edge to edge showed that the Yoruba people practiced a rich religion and also believed in it. They believed the Giants were godsent from the heavens and each of the Giants represented parts of the gods and deities who mediate between the creator and humanity.

They served as pillars between the heaven and Earth. In their Chambers, Rothonyhr, Larike, Sosan, and Ase raised their bronze goblets to their lips. Servants filled their plates and cups with more food and wine. As it was, a big white curtain divided the giant’s room from the rest of the hall. 

In the middle of the hall were the bàtá drummers, the dancers glorifying the Yoruba culture and others paying respects to the gods. The group of women who were dancing included some young teenage girls and other married women with tribal marks on their faces; They had taken all of them from different territories of Yorubaland and made them entertainment tools for the giants.  

With music flowing in the background, a lady with big cowrie earrings grabbed a knife from the table of her master and held it behind the ears of the beer jug in her hand. Then, she handed it over to a charming man who hung a drum over his shoulder. On him was simple navy-blue admire trousers with white-clay markings on his body. 

“Prince Yotifa, who exactly is the fifth god?” She started.

“You mean Tesse? I heard Ase killed her centuries ago out of jealousy that his brothers would keep her to themselves. Tesse–the goddess of love and fertility and Ase–the god of war and death are twins. She was the only female goddess. What do you expect?”

A fake smile appeared on both their faces as they glanced around with curiosity. Their faces dropped to seriousness; a little sweaty and oily, but no one cared.

“They’re all getting drunk,” Asa whispered to Prince Yotifa, who walked right behind her. Asa was a beautiful average-height lady with the fit body of a warrior. Her skin was of golden bronze and her hair a voluminous bun of soft curls.

“Get the girls into position and be careful.” Prince Yotifa warned.

“I’d be careful.” She smiled as they parted ways.