Alade (Irunmole Saga)

by Jean-Marc Akerele

  One day Lulu plunged her mind into the singularity within her and demanded that the Gods within her release her from what had become bondage. It was now 2001, and she had come to a decision. She demanded that they take this burden from her. They still had her faith yet they must find another vessel. But her Gods refused. She threatened them, which of course was a big mistake, so in order to punish her for her insolence, she must now provide them with constant libation, or sacrifice, or else her own longevity would be threatened. Oh, she would not die but she would continue to age and would soon become an immortal crone if she did not provide them with libation constantly as penance for what they perceived to be her lack of faith. Therefore, Lulu must now constantly drink and this is why she had no choice but to come to Georgia Avenue. Where else would an old drunk like her be welcome? But she also came for another reason, for in this place even though she carried her Gods within her, she was hidden from them and indeed all from Gods. And she had learned a secret in her centuries on Earth; her Gods had been manipulated by Esu into performing the ritual which had enslaved her and until she understood what was going on and why would they had done the bidding of the God of Chaos she would serve them no more. This was not about worship and faith anymore, she saw that clearly now. There was a deeper game being played here and creatures like her were the pawns. But not anymore, she swore to herself, for her eyes were now open.

  When Lulu finished her story, she took a deep pull of the bottle and I could not help but feel sorry for her and the great burden she bore. She had been betrayed by the very thing she was trying to serve by saving it and it had wounded her to the quick. As we sat in silence contemplating the bloody tableau before us, I thought about what Lulu had unknowingly divulged to me by telling me her story. She was right, there was a deeper game being played and the more of it I witnessed then the more I became convinced that Esu, the God of Chaos was not at all what he seemed to be. I had hidden my surprise carefully when Lulu had revealed his interaction with her Gods for I remembered that he had tampered with my own and in this moment of clarity I realized that forced me to consider a new line of thinking. Esu was not some mischievous prankster as the many Gods would have us believe. He represented a deep and profound power equal and opposite to that of Order, and just as essential to the balance as Oludumare itself. The fact that he had been throwing power about in many places, including into both Lulu and myself, could only mean one thing; the Dual Being had decided to take a direct hand in restoring the balance, and this changed everything. Esu’s power plays would have been put into effect to shift the balance one way or another. And if he was playing with both their pantheons then what had he done with the other Gods, what had he given to the Interloper? Lulu passed me her bottle for a drink as if sensing the disturbing thoughts which I was now entertaining and I took a long swallow. I sighed deeply, and quickly turned my mind to more practical things saying to Lulu,” You don’t happen to know a good spot to dispose of these bodies, because daylight is coming and even Sunshine has eaten her fill. If we burn them now it will draw too much attention from mortal eyes. We need to stash them somewhere we can destroy them later.”

  “How about just leaving them at the bottom of the ocean? I don’t think anyone will notice them there, do you?” “That is very funny, but eventually the grave gases will make them float and we do not want any autopsy being performed on these bodies, it would raise too many questions.”

  “Have Samantha drop them at the bottom of one of those deep-sea chasms, which are so many miles deep, dumbass. When they start to float, the creatures living there will strip them of all flesh before they could possibly reach the surface.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right, I’ll let Samantha know.” Once Samantha had shifted the bodies to the bottom of the Atlantic, it shifted us both back to the apartment where we found Shawn and Sunshine playing video games on the Xbox. I should have used my own power to shift us so that I could practice it, but the misgivings I was beginning to feel made me cautious and so I had begun hoard my power in case things took a different turn. I smiled at Sunshine and kissed her forehead and then patted Shawn on the back before finally collapsing onto an easy chair while Lulu went to one of the bedrooms to lie down. It seemed that telling her story had taken its toll on her and she wasn’t her usual feisty self, and although I wanted to go check up on her I believed that she needed time alone. Besides, soon enough she would be working again for I needed to meet the Elders of the Leopard Society so we could end this war. And considering the new developments, it became all the more urgent that we consolidate our strengths so I could build the weapon, because I could feel a storm coming. As I leaned back into the chair and closed my eyes, my mind began to drift to faraway places and soon I found myself dreaming of a different time and place, one in which I was still Alade Akeju and I had not yet been corrupted. But as my mind wandered back in time something was nagging at me, for to this day no matter how hard I tried to remember, I have never known exactly what was the alien presence which had called me out of Ile-Ife. And right now, after hearing Lulu’s story, I needed to find out.

  14 I was sitting in my most boring class of the day, trying my damnedest to keep my eyes awake, while the instructor droned on about the various permutations of certain metaphysical questions. To me, the idea of a magical race of beings, who were intimate with the forces of creation itself, bothering with these philosophical questions which for me had been solved from the moment I had felt the touch of an Orisha upon my brow. Of course, I did not believe I had all the answers, but prattling on about the state of existence like some ignorant human seemed to me to be a complete waste of time so I chose to instead daydream about myself as a mighty warrior, raining down destruction upon my enemies, as young men are wanting to do. I was soon rudely snatched from my pleasant dreams of conquest by the sound of my instructor’s voice asking me a question. I quickly sat up and cleared my throat to seem as if I had been paying attention, and turned my head towards the rest of the class who were all staring at me with a combination of smiles and sneers. “Could you repeat the question sir?” I said in a loud voice, which caused many sniggers. The instructor shook his head slowly, exasperated by my lack of interest once again, and repeated the question. “What I had said while you were off daydreaming again was this: Our consciousness sums up for us whole periods of our own existence. That in the act of perception, we snatch something that outdistances perception itself. If you were to abolish my consciousness, would the material universe continue to subsist exactly as it was, since you have now removed that particular rhythm which was the condition of my ability to act upon things?” I looked at the instructor, dumbfounded, not because of any difficulty with the question, but because it was obvious that this person, who was supposed to teach me something, felt that he was challenging us with asinine questions such as this. I looked up at him and said simply, “No, sir.”

  “What do you mean ‘No sir’?” he said getting irritated, “Answer the question please, Alade.”

  “But I have sir; I just chose to keep it simple.” “Then please for the sake of us less astute individuals explain it in further detail.” I sighed and took a deep breath, knowing that this would only make me more unpopular with the other students, but even back then in my distant youth, I couldn’t care less what others thought of me, so I stood up and walked to the front of the room and faced the class. “What I meant by my answer,” I began, “was simply this. The universe is a direct extension of consciousness, though of a consciousness far greater than our own. We can act upon it, able to mold it and change it because of the correlation between our own puny faculties and those of the One God. We are microcosms of the macrocosm and just as if Oludumare withdrew its consciousness from the cosmos all things would cease, if we were to withdraw our own from what we perceive to be our world, there would be no consciousness for perception itself since all the things we perceive are perceived through the medium of consciousness. Matter also is bound up in this, res
olving its various forms in direct counterpoint to the numberless vibrations that are linked together into an uninterrupted continuum. In short, one cannot disconnect these continuous objects of daily experience like a light bulb, for our very consciousness is what makes us aware of our movements and actions. There would always be something remaining, for matter and energy cannot be destroyed merely transformed from one form to another, but the universe without consciousness, without our consciousness, would not be the same as it is now. Therefore, my answer once again is no, it will not subsist exactly as it was before.” I walked back to my seat and sat down feeling eyes on me, as the instructor said, “A very interesting answer, Alade. It seems you do pay attention. Anyone wish to add anything to his answer? No? Okay then class is dismissed, I will see you all tomorrow. Alade please stay a moment.” I sat in my seat waiting for the rest of the class to filter out seeing hostile looks from most faces and a few smiles from the few friends I had. As the last student walked out, I got up and approached the instructor. He sat down at his desk and studied me for a while before speaking. “Alade, my son,” he said, “I don’t think you are taking these lessons seriously. These concepts are very important and indeed someday these mental exercises may serve you well. I wish you would pay more attention.” I smiled with pleasure at my father, now that it was just the two of us and sat on the corner of his desk. “Father,” I began “I don’t know why I have to sit through these classes. The things we are learning in class I have been discussing with you at home since I was a baby. I mean please, that question about consciousness was so basic it was almost insulting.”

  “Was it now?”

  “Yes Father, it was and you know it. I know you like to test me, but why can’t we continue my studies at home as we had done before?”

  “Because not all knowledge comes from books and someday you will have to understand people.”

  “You mean Omo Orisa I hope?” “The Omo Orisa are not the only beings in the cosmos my son. There are many and they are varied. You yourself have seen the shape shifters which roam throughout Ile-Ife as well the other supernatural races which are welcome here. But there are other places in the cosmos other than our home you know.”

  “Are you talking about Earth, Father?” “Yes, I am talking about Earth, the beacon of Order in the cosmos and its human inhabitants. If you were to go there how would you manage? You can barely socialize with your own let alone other races.”

  “Why would I go to that horrible place with its disgusting inhabitants? The humans are less than animals to us. I would sooner live with demon spawn. Besides I don’t need anyone else, I have my family, which is more than enough for me.”

  “The problem is my son, that one day it will not be enough. What would happen if you were deprived of us? How would you survive? Anyway, enough of this talk. I saw that girl Teju openly staring at you throughout class. She is pretty enough, why don’t you ask her out on a date?”

  “Most probably because I have no time for such frivolous pursuits. I am focused on my training which, by the way, advances quickly.” Inioluwa shook his head at this statement, confounded by his son’s lack of social graces and stood up; he would address this topic later when his son was feeling more relaxed. “Come on, my son,” he said finally, “Let’s go home.”

  The Omo Orisa were mandated to protect the balance and serve the Orishas so the first millennium of our lives was dedicated to training, training, and more training. It was important that we were morally grounded so that our behavior and actions fell within acceptable parameters which allowed my race to utilize and enhance our ase. Time moved differently in Ile-Ife and my first millennium of life was spent cloistered with my family and clan members, who all took part in the education of the few offspring that were occasionally born to my people. It was in this time that the clan bonds and responsibilities were deeply inserted into us and we rarely interacted with others outside of our clan. I was close to my second millennium of life when it was finally decided that that I was ready to leave the fold and interact with other Omo Orisa of the different clans and it was for this reason that I was now obligated to attend classes outside of my family’s compound in the communal school. My religious and magical studies would continue within my clan, but the philosophical and sociological education necessary to my proper development had to occur with others outside of my clan. For each clan had its own unique identity, serving certain Gods, and pursuing mandates from their patron Gods and Goddess which were known only to members of that clan. But I knew that I was different, though I would have at the time said special, because my religious studies were very different than the others of my clan as were my magical studies. More emphasis was placed on developing my mental powers, than on controlling and manipulating ase, and my father, the high priest of Yemoja, drilled me in different philosophical topics and in my obligation to the Goddess. I was proud of my station, and even prouder of my perceived importance to the Goddess, and as I walked through the maze of beautiful gardens that my father had built from humanity’s distant dreams and real plants taken from Earth, I saw myself as the consort of the Goddess and kept myself aloof from everyone except my immediate family. But the truth is I already had begun to feel the alienation which led to my exile, but I did not yet realize it. My mother Isima, had spied my father and me walking into the compound and had called us over. She looked me up and down critically before smiling and saying, “Giving your father more headaches I see? Go get cleaned up Alade, dinner is ready.” She tiptoed to kiss me on the cheek and then strode off to set the table. As I watched my mother recede into the distance I could not help but smile at the irony. My mother was one of the greatest mysteries to my clan since she was not bound to any of the Orishas. That she had chosen to bind herself to my father was unusual, very unusual for a priestess of Esu. For none could understand that God’s motivations and by extension the motivations of his servants, but in our household, she was a simply a dutiful wife and a wonderful mother. But there were times when you surprised her; you got a glimpse of an ancient and terrible power which lurked just beneath the surface. Yet I did not fear this power for I had been created by it, and in my heart, I knew it made me even more special. It was my mother who had taught me my battle skills, it was my mother who had taught me how to think independently of the dogma and rote that the priests and priestesses of the Gods would have me swallow, and in the end, it was my mother who had freed me from my dependency upon ase, a necessary skill set which would serve me well when I eventually arrived in the world of humanity. Our nightly family dinners were useful forums in which the many complex ideas that were necessary for my healthy development were discussed vigorously and by the time I had reached my first millennium of existence I was able to be debate and discuss the many metaphysical questions which even those of my race entertained with confidence and competence, and through the balance of my parents’ opposing views I was able to freely formulate my own opinions on the nature of our existence. I was not in awe of the Orishas as were the other members of my clan who I associated with, and my own growing sense of self-importance and arrogance had already fostered a disdain for my responsibilities not only as an Omo Orisa, but as the son of two of the most powerful servants of two of the most powerful Gods. I was doomed from the start and I did not even realize it.

  I sensed the flight of the blade just as I was lifting the spoonful of Egusi stew to my lips, and ducked to my left, spilling food everywhere. “Mother!” I shouted just as two more blades flew towards me, “Can’t I enjoy the Egusi stew in peace for a change?” I dodged the other two blades and came to a stop as my mother calmly picked up her Kunai knives and sheathed them at her wrists. I stood stock still as she took her seat and continued her dinner casually and finally after a few minutes, I carefully sat down and resumed eating my beloved Egusi stew, though this time with my eyes firmly on my surroundings. “Alade,” she began, “your problem is that you are a prisoner of the sensual. While you are enjoying your stew, anyone c
ould creep up on you and attack you. When you revel in the sensual you forget everything I have taught you and this will be the death of you. Quickly now, tell me what steps a warrior should take to ensure victory?”

  “Mother,” I whined, hungry for the savory stew that was within reach, “can this not wait until after we eat?” She looked at me for a moment before smiling sweetly and indicating that I should continue eating, and once I was comfortably ensconced and was lifting a spoonful of stew to my lips, she upended the whole table and had a knife to my throat before I could react. My father stepped back from the table, brushing off his clothing and smiling before walking away to the main house. I was staring angrily at my mother as she dug the blade deeper into my throat, and after a tense moment she stood up and walked back to her seat.

  “I will ask you once again, my son” she said, “what steps should a warrior take to ensure victory?” I got to my feet and faced my mother, and seeing that she was in no mood for my insolence, I composed myself and spoke.

  “Well Mother,” I said, “we know that there have been warriors from all races, genders and cultures throughout the history of the cosmos but even though they are numerous and diverse there are a few guiding principles which seem to run true to all of them. First, a warrior develops a method or even all possible methods through training and discipline which guides his or her every strike. It is through the repetition of certain physical forms and mental concepts which are absorbed that a great warrior is born. Second, a warrior must be intimate with danger and security, and must love blood and battle for through these things the chances of life and death are enhanced. Third, a warrior must always be aware of his or her surroundings, sensing every shift in the energy cocooning him or her in preparation for the enemy’s strike which may come at any time. Fourth, the warrior must bind his or her skills with the strong cords of wisdom, sincerity, benevolence and courage for without these no blow that he or she strikes will be truly righteous. Finally, a warrior acts in accord with the will of the Gods so that his or her every action is sanctioned by the divine.”