24:4:2024
Sunmi, having returned to the mainland, stood before Matthew, her brow furrowed with a mixture of determination and skepticism. The training yard was simple, a patch of well-worn earth surrounded by bamboo fences, the air thick with the scent of sweat and determination.
"Today," Matthew said, his voice stern, "you will fight Gift. Hand-to-hand combat. No powers allowed."
Sunmi scoffed, her arms crossed. "With all due respect, Master Matthew, how is this related to my psychic training? I came here to learn how to control my abilities, not to become a boxer."
Matthew sighed, his expression softening slightly. "Sunmi, you rely too much on your powers," he explained. "It's become a crutch, a weakness. You need to learn how to stand your ground, to defend yourself, even without your psychic abilities. If you can control yourself in a fight, you can control your power."
He paused, his gaze hardening. "At the very least, try to land a single punch on Gift. That is your goal for today."
Gift, had a mischievous grin across her face eyes that sparkled with barely-contained energy, let out a booming laugh. "Good luck with that, Princess," she said, her voice laced with amusement. "That's impossible."
Sunmi bristled, her back straightening. "If I really wanted to learn how to fight," she retorted, "I would have asked my dad to hire a private taekwondo instructor."
"Taekwondo can't teach you how to defend yourself, and that is a fact," Matthew responded, and with a wave of his hand, signaled the training to begin.
Sunmi charged forward, throwing a flurry of punches and kicks, but Gift was too fast, too agile. She dodged every blow with effortless grace, her movements fluid and precise, barely breaking a sweat.
Gift would dodge effortlessly, and with a sharp slap to Sunmi's face, send her stumbling backward, mocking her. "You fight like a little girl!"
"Are you forgetting that you are also a girl?" Sunmi retorted, wiping the sting from her cheek.
"Yes," Gift grinned, dodging another punch with ease. "But this little girl is BUILT different." She slapped Sunmi again, this time on the back of her head, sending her sprawling to the ground.
Before Sunmi could regain her footing, Gift pinned her to the floor, her lithe body pressing down on Sunmi's, trapping her arms. "Tap out, princess," Gift taunted, her voice inches from Sunmi's ear.
"Never!" Sunmi pushed back, growing tired and angry. She can control it now. The voices were becoming one with her now.
That was the change needed. Sunmi's eyes went white, and her hair became streaked white.
Turning her focus to Gift, she said, her voice barely a whisper, "Punch yourself. Hard."
Gift's eyes glazed over for a moment. She hesitated, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. Then, with a sudden jerk, she raised her fist and punched herself hard in the face.
"What the Fuck!" Gift exclaimed, stumbling backward, clutching her jaw.
Sunmi used the opportunity to scramble to her feet, her eyes burning with determination. Gift, enraged by what had just happened, charged towards her, intent on retribution.
Before Gift could reach her, Sunmi held up her hand, her power surging to the surface. "Stop," she said, her voice ringing with authority.
Gift froze mid-stride, her muscles tensing, her expression a mask of confusion. She tried to move, to break free of Sunmi's control, but she was powerless to resist.
A slow grin spread across Sunmi's face. "Punch yourself," she commanded, her voice laced with triumph. "Again. Harder this time."
With a strangled cry, Gift obeyed, slamming her fist into her own face with brutal force. The blow sent her staggering backward, her nose gushing blood.
Sunmi burst into laughter, a triumphant, joyful sound that echoed through the training yard. "I did it!" she cried, jumping up and down with glee. "I actually won a fight against Gift! Without killing her!"
Running to Matthew, she grabbed him in a bear hug and screamed, "I did it!" Finally, with weeks of training, I found my balance. She fell to her knees, unable to resist any longer.
Gift, clutching her throbbing jaw, glowered at Sunmi, her eyes burning with resentment. "If not for your psychic powers," she muttered, spitting out a mouthful of blood, "I would have whooped your ass."
25:4:2024
5:35am
Tolu's head throbbed, a relentless, agonizing pain that seemed to intensify with each passing hour. She could barely sleep, the talking drums echoing in her mind, their rhythmic beat growing louder, more insistent, transforming into a tormenting headache.
Each time she closed her eyes, she was pulled back to the same haunting vision: the dark, still river stretching before her, the fiery torches lining its banks, creating a path of burning light that beckoned her forward. The drums seemed to emanate from the end of that path, their rhythm growing louder, more compelling, urging her to answer the call.
But Tolu resisted, desperately clinging to the waking world, forcing herself awake from the terrifying dream. She didn't want to answer the gods' summons, didn't want to face the judgment that awaited her.
Despite her best efforts, she could barely drag herself out of bed when the alarm rang, signaling the start of another day. She hadn't gotten any sleep, her eyes heavy with exhaustion, her body drained of energy.
7:46am
When she arrived at school for extension classes, Emeka immediately noticed her distress. "Babe, what happened?" he asked, his brow furrowing with concern. "You look like you haven't slept in days."
Tolu sighed, rubbing her temples in a futile attempt to ease the throbbing pain in her head. She explained to Emeka how, ever since she lost her powers, the drums had been ringing in her head, growing louder and more insistent with each passing night. She didn't know what to do about it, how to silence the persistent summons.
Emeka gently took her hand, his eyes filled with compassion. "Maybe you should actually answer the gods," he suggested, his voice soft and reassuring.
But Tolu recoiled, her eyes widening with fear. "That's what I'm afraid of," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper. "I don't know what to do. I'm not ready to face their judgment yet."
Emeka simply held her hand tighter, offering her silent support. He knew that Tolu had to make her own decision, that he couldn't force her to do something she wasn't ready for.
Just then, the bell rang, signaling the start of his class. Emeka squeezed her hand once more before reluctantly leaving, promising to check on her later.
As Emeka departed, Sunmi burst onto the scene, her face glowing with uncontainable excitement. "Tolu!" she exclaimed, her voice ringing with triumph. "Guess which psychic can control her powers now?"
Tolu stared at her, bewildered. "What do you mean?" she asked, her head still throbbing with pain.
Sunmi grabbed Tolu's arm, dragging her towards a quiet corner of the hallway. "I went training again with Matthew," she explained, her voice barely above a whisper, "and now I can consciously compel people to do things! Without killing them! I feel like I'm not in control of my power!"
Tolu's eyes widened with surprise. "What?! How did you manage that?
Sunmi grinned, pulling up the hood of her hoodie to conceal her distinctive hair. With a deep breath, she turned her attention to Tolu. "Watch this," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Covering her head with the hood, Sunmi's hair turned to black and white and her power pulsed outwards .
"Stand on one foot," Sunmi commanded, her eyes glowing with psychic energy.
To her surprise, Tolu found herself immediately obeying, lifting one foot off the ground and balancing precariously on the other. Her muscles strained, her mind struggled against the compulsion, but she was powerless to resist.
"Now, drop that leg and stand on the other one," Sunmi instructed, her voice filled with mischievous glee.
Again, Tolu obeyed, shifting her weight and balancing on her other foot. She was both amazed and terrified by Sunmi's newfound control.
"Oh my god," Tolu gasped, shaking her head in disbelief. "Did you just…compel me to do that? Because of Psychic Persuasion?"
Sunmi shrieked. She took off the hoodie and then hugged Tolu tightly.
They exchanged a knowing glance, their eyes sparkling with mischief. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Sunmi asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"That we should use it on Angel?" Tolu replied, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.
"Besties think alike!" Sunmi exclaimed, her voice filled with glee.
They shared a high-five, their laughter echoing through the hallway before reluctantly heading off to class.
As they left, Tolu paused, her footsteps faltering. The vision of the river, the torches, returned, more vivid and intense than ever before. Her head throbbed, her ears rang, the drums pounded in her mind, drowning out all other thoughts.
With a groan, she stumbled towards her classroom, collapsing into her seat and burying her head in her desk, desperate for some respite from the relentless torment. The world outside faded away, replaced by the haunting imagery of her dreams, by the irresistible call of the gods.
Tolu knew the gods were calling, their summons echoing in the relentless beat of the talking drums. But fear held her captive, a paralyzing grip that prevented her from answering the call.
It wasn't that she didn't want her magic back. It was the fear of what that magic might do, what it might change, what it might take from her. She was torn between her desire for power and her desperate need to protect the ones she loved.
And so, she tried to ignore the drums, to drown out their summons with the distractions of daily life. But the harder she tried, the louder they became, their rhythmic beat pounding in her head, disrupting her thoughts, blurring her vision.
She couldn't concentrate in school, her mind constantly wandering, her eyes fixated on the swirling patterns of the fiery path, the relentless flow of the river. She was trapped between two worlds, unable to fully commit to either.
Finally, exhausted and defeated, she returned home, seeking refuge in the familiar comfort of her own space. She took a long, hot shower, hoping to wash away the stress and anxiety that had been plaguing her.
But as the water cascaded over her body, she felt a strange sensation, a pull, a tug, as if she were being drawn towards something, something she couldn't resist.
With a gasp, she collapsed onto her bed, her body tingling, her mind spinning. In a matter of moments, she was gone, transported back to the river bank, the scene from her dreams, the place where the drums were loudest.
The boat was there, bobbing gently on the surface of the water, waiting for her. Fear gnawed at her, a desperate plea to turn back, to run away. But she knew that she couldn't. The drums would never stop, the visions would never cease, until she answered the call.
With a trembling hand, she reached out and stepped onto the boat, her heart pounding in her chest. The boat began to move, gliding effortlessly through the water, propelled by an unseen force. No paddle was needed, no oars were required. The river itself seemed to be guiding her, carrying her towards her destiny.
The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the faint sound of singing, a melody sung in Yoruba, praising the gods, honoring the ancestors. The voice was so familiar, so comforting, that a sense of warmth washed over Tolu, easing her fear, calming her nerves.
As the boat reached the river bank, Tolu saw her. Her heart skipped a beat. Could it be? Was it possible?
She stepped off the boat, her eyes widening in disbelief. Standing on the dock, bathed in the warm glow of the torchlight, was Mama G.
Without hesitation, Tolu ran towards her, throwing her arms around her in a tight embrace. Tears streamed down her face, a mixture of joy and relief.
"Mama G," she sobbed, her voice trembling with emotion. " *Ṣé ìwọ ni lóòótọ́?* " (Is it really you?)
Mama G chuckled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. She returned the hug, squeezing Tolu tightly.
"*Wò ó, ọmọdé kékeré,*" she said, her voice filled with warmth and affection. (Look at you, little one.) "*Nígbà tí mo kọ́kọ́ rí ẹ, o kéré bí ọmọdé, kì í ṣe ju orúnkún mi lọ.*" (The first time I saw you, you were just a little girl, not bigger than my knee). "*Nísinsìnyí o ti dàgbà, o sì dàgbà dénú."* (Now you're all grown up, all mature)
She poked Tolu playfully, her eyes crinkling at the corners. " *Oò dà bí ẹni dára, ọmọbìnrin! Báwo ni nkan ṣe ń lọ? Báwo ni ìgbésí ayé ṣe rí?"* (You're looking good, girl! How are things? How is life?)
"*Ẹ kú ìrọlẹ́, Mama G,"* Tolu replied, still struggling to comprehend what was happening. (Good evening, Mama G). "*Báwo ni èyí ṣe ṣeé ṣe? Mo rò pé o ti kú. Ṣé ayé lẹ́yìn ikú ni èyí? Ṣé mo ti kú pẹ̀lú? Kí ló ń ṣẹlẹ̀?"* (How is this possible? I thought you were dead. Is this the afterlife? Am I dead too? What is going on?)
Mama G laughed, a deep, throaty sound that echoed through the clearing. She stepped back, taking Tolu's hand.
"Come, child," she said, switching to English. "They're waiting for you."
The flickering torches cast long, dancing shadows that stretched and contorted along the winding path. The rhythmic pulse of the drums, once a distant murmur, grew steadily stronger, resonating deep within Tolu's chest. It was a primal beat, a call to something ancient and powerful, and it began to weave its magic. Tolu's feet, almost involuntarily, started to move. Mama G, beside her, mirrored her steps, her body swaying with a practiced grace. The drums spoke to them, their rhythm transforming into a language only their bodies understood. They danced, a spontaneous eruption of Yoruba tradition, their movements fluid and expressive, a conversation between their souls and the echoing beat.
The air, thick with the scent of burning wood and damp earth, crackled with an unseen energy. As they moved deeper into the torchlit passage, the path widened, revealing a vast clearing bathed in an ethereal glow. Massive, intricately carved wooden thrones, each radiating an aura of power, were arranged in a semi-circle. One by one, colossal figures began to materialize, filling the seats. These were the Orishas, the Yoruba deities, their forms shimmering and shifting in the flickering light. Oshun, adorned with shimmering gold and radiating warmth, sat gracefully. Beside her, Shango, crackling with the energy of thunder and lightning, his eyes flashing with divine fire. Ogun, his presence as solid and unyielding as iron, occupied a throne of dark metal. Oya, her robes billowing around her like a gathering storm, embodied the untamed power of the wind. Osanyin, radiating the earthy scent of herbs and roots, held a staff entwined with healing plants. Aje, the embodiment of wealth and the earth's abundance, sat upon a throne of shimmering clay. Each exuded an awe-inspiring presence, their eyes holding the wisdom of ages.
Tolu's breath caught in her throat. She had heard tales of the Orishas since she was a child, but seeing them in their full glory, feeling the weight of their divine presence, was unlike anything she could have imagined. Overwhelmed, she bowed deeply, her heart pounding in her chest. Mama G, a knowing smile playing on her lips, placed a reassuring hand on Tolu's shoulder.
"Ọmọ Yorùbá," ( Yoruba child.") she whispered, her voice filled with affection. "This is where my journey ends, and yours begins." She leaned down and kissed Tolu gently on the forehead, a gesture of love and farewell. "A àbò ọ,"( "Take care of yourself," ) she said .!And with that, Mama G faded into the shadows, leaving Tolu standing before the assembled Orishas.
They greeted her with warmth and respect, their presence radiating a sense of ancient power and wisdom. They knew why she was there, they knew her fears, her doubts, her struggles.
She bowed her head low, her voice filled with remorse. " Mo tọrọ gafara fun lilọ lodi si iseda ati lilo idan dudu," she began, her Yoruba heavy with emotion. (I apologize for going against nature and using dark magic). "Mo gbà pé mo ṣe àṣìṣe, ati nísinsìnyí mo mọ̀ pé èyí ni ìdí tí ẹ fi ń jẹ mí ní yà fún àwọn agbára mi." (I admit that I made a mistake, and now I understand that this is why you are punishing me for my powers).
She paused, gathering her courage, her eyes lifting to meet the gaze of the powerful deities. "I know that I caused a plague, that I used my magic for selfish purposes, that I defied the natural order. I am deeply sorry for the pain and suffering I have caused.
Oya stepped forward, her eyes filled with a mixture of compassion and understanding. "Tolu," Oya began, her voice gentle and soothing, "O kò pàdánù agbára rẹ ní ti gidi." (You didn't really lose your powers).
She explained that the darkness that had once possessed her had not stripped her of her abilities, but rather had forced her to suppress them, to bury them beneath a mountain of fear and guilt. " Agabara ti o ni wa nibi gbogbo," Oya said, (The ability you have is everywhere) "ṣùgbọn ìbẹ̀rù rẹ ni ó ń dí ọ lọ́wọ́." (But you just have to let go of your fears, it isn't going to leave).
"Ever since the darkness took hold of you," Oya continued, "you did things that went against the very laws of nature. You were too scared to use your powers, fearing the consequences, fearing the harm you might inflict upon others. That is why your powers never resurfaced."
Oya reached out, taking Tolu's hand in hers. "Ti o ba fẹ agbara rẹ pada," she said, (If you want your powers back), "o le ni rọrun kan lo." (You can just use it with no stress). "Ṣùgbọn ohun kan wà tí o ní láti gbógun ti: ìbẹ̀rù rẹ." (But something is stopping you. Your Fear).
She explained that if Tolu wanted her powers back, she could simply reach for them, but she would have to confront her fear, to overcome the trauma of her past. If she truly wanted to wield her magic once more, she had to let go of her doubts, to embrace the responsibility that came with such power.
Ogun spoke with a sharp voice, "But if you want you could always stay without them. The ability can be with anyone who wants it. However a great warrior is born with the courage to want their powers back."
The deities explained that they had called her there to offer her a choice. She could reclaim her magic, embracing the challenges and responsibilities that came with it. Or, she could continue to live without it, remaining safe and protected from the potential harm it might cause. But the longer she waited, the weaker the connection to her powers would get.
"But if you really want it," Oya said with a caring voice, "Those powers will surface and never return again."
The decision was hers, and hers alone.
After their discussion, the deity spoke with the force of a warrior, her mouth a singular point. "You need to face your fear. You will be testing me in battle"
That night, she faced the power of Ogun. At first, she tried her best, but the skills that Ogun had were no match. She was too afraid to strike back.
But eventually, she lost that fear. She stood strong against her now. With a mighty swing, she managed to hit Ogun. His weapon fell, but Ogun did not let this deter him. Standing tall, he walked towards her. He was a god of honor and was not going to cheat. She was the stronger one.
As she prepared to strike what could be a final blow, he stopped her.
Smiling, he responded. "You have shown great bravery. And for that, you have earned this victory" The Deity laughed.