Women Of Steel | ✔

XXV

I don't even blink at his words, they only anger me. It has been three times now that a prophecy of death has been spoken to me and each time, there is no telling of how to stop my death. At first, I feared them, then nothing happened and hope seeped through my bones, deceiving me, whispering words of consolation that I would win this war. And now, a god whispers it to me again, but this time, he puts a time limit on the words. Tread carefully, Omolara, the reasonable part of me whispers, you do not want to anger a god.

I hiss despite myself.

"I am just about tired of your prophecies, why are you warning me of my own death?"

The foresight god doesn't look deterred my words, he folds his arms to his chest and shakes his head. "You don't understand anything, child."

I throw my own arms in the still air. "I would, if anyone bothered to tell me anything useful!"

He smiles. "There are some things that even the orisha cannot meddle in, we can only guide through certain riddles and words, sometimes through the priests and other times in dreams and warnings."

I pause and look to the darkness ahead. "So there is something you are trying to tell me?"

The man nods, he points up at the sky and I follow his fingers, at first I see nothing, then slowly, the stars appear, dotting the sky beautifully.

"Stars are stories, some of them you know and others long forgotten. But I am not here to tell you just any story, it is the story of your father I want to tell you."

"Your father is known to your mortals as a trickster god, or a messenger god, all this is true, but there is a side to your father's gifts that is rarely spoken about, because above all things, mortals fear death the most."

I look at Ifatunji and Tara frozen in time, at the army that is halted in their movements and shiver. "Death, he wields death."

Orunmila nods. "Yes, death, some say your father lives deep in the underworld, that he brings about death, that he is death."

I jerk my head at him. "What is the truth?" I ask.

"The truth is, your father is just merely a guide, a keeper of things long rotten. He is a guard, what you were able to do, Omolara, raising bones from the earth is an inkling of his power," He explains.

I remember the cold feeling, the power that filled me and think of my father's own, if my powers are an extention, a small part of his, then I hate to think of how his are like.

"And that power is solely forbidden from being used, like I said, your father is a guide, which means he listens to the demands of the ones that have passed and guides them to peace, or damnation. To wield them as weapons, is an abomination."

"It is what Remilekun wants," I say, finally understanding the truth.

He nods and tucks his hands into the deep pockets of his robes.

"You can raise them, but you cannot wield them so easy, they are not mindless soldiers and they will ravage everything in their path."

"They will fight her own war for her and she does not even have to ask." I realize. "But in the end, she will have to destroy them —"

"And this is where you come in, I believe you have been told before, that only the blood of an immortal can make another immortal, when Remilekun will be searching for you and when she finds you, she will kill you and take your blood for herself and will have killed two birds with one stone."

"But the army —" I begin saying.

"Will perish with you, the death of an orisha will end their every creation. Imagine Osun slayed," He says. As soon as the words leave his lips, there is a crack of thunder in the sky. Orunmila chuckles. "Sango can be quite possessive, to speak the name of his wife is a challenge to him."

I smile a little. The subject of discussing the deities is strange because up to a month ago, I did not even give their existence a second thought, I never even believed in them but now, they seem like ordinary mortals.

"If she perished, her river would dry." He finishes dryly.

"The same applies to me, either way, I still die." Suddenly, the realization if frightening. "You came here to tell me to kill myself."

He shrugs, unapologetic. I laugh but this time, it is bitter. The orisha do not care about me, my father doesn't care, they are only concerned that nobody new joins their exclusive immortality cult.

"Why don't you do it yourself?" I taunt. "Kill me, and end your worries."

His eyes darken. "That would be starting a war. Don't be petty, you don't want the dead roaming the mortal world, in the end, you do not win anything, not even your life when Remilekun finds you."

He takes a step closer, the wind howls. "She has an army of seers at her command, they will find you."

I grit my teeth hard.

"If I kill myself, Remilekun will still win the war, she will still rule the three kingdoms with the army she has on her side. Either way, she still wins, with or without her immortality."

I look the god in the eye. "My death doesn't come unless I am taking her down with me, go and tell the rest of your cult that."

He looks at me and shakes his head sadly.

"I am the god of foresight, child, I have seen a thousand different outcomes of this war, there is none where Remilekun does not win."

"It will not end well."

* * *

When I come to, the dead marches ahead and Ifatunji is shaking me awake and Tara is by his side.  He points at the distant in the dark.

"The village of Ile Alaafia is where they are headed, everything in their path will be destroyed." He is telling me, I cannot quite hear his words over the sudden howling noise in my ears, the whispers blend together and I catch hints of cries, or laughter. I can hear them, I realize with a chill.

Ifatunji helps me up and I pick up the sword I used to cut my palm open. Tara watches me with keen eyes.

"We cannot warn them, except we are prepared to fight an army of dead soldiers." I force the words. People will die, and their death will be by my hands, my words, my actions. A whole kingdom will fall.

Kill yourself now, you can stop it.

But Remilekun still wins. A distant memory tugs at me, of that man, Tade's half brother keeping me in that cold hole, branding me with the iron and telling me regretfully that war had casualties, that there was a price for the victory of it. My hand move of its own accord to press against that rough mark at my wrist.

I raise my head and make my decision. I whisper a prayer for forgiveness.

"The two of you need to go to the north, warn the Hausa army of what I will tell you now." I say flatly. "I'm headed back to the desert, it's time I faced that woman, and end this."