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  • Daniel Alaka

Stone and the Three Kings: Part 2

But there was nothing. Only people going about their day, and a lone firefly buzzing about my field of vision.


“What’s wrong?” Sandra asked. She was concerned.


“Nothing,” I said, quickly relaxing myself so she would relax. The firefly buzzed around my face, so I swatted it away. “Let’s just go.”



While this wasn’t my first time being followed by something I couldn’t see following me, it was the first time it was happening with someone who didn’t know my secret. You can understand the intense pressure I was under - assuming you’re the kind of person who should be reading this. If not, I recommend you give this to your local akara or suya dealer; they’ll know what to do.


“You’re sure there’s nothing wrong?” Sandra asked for what was probably the third time. At this point, we had turned into her street; deathly quiet in contrast to the bright boisterousness of the main road.


“Wrong?” I asked, looking behind me. “Why would anything be wrong?”


“I wonder for you, na,” she complained. “You keep looking back at every little sound. Are you expecting us to be robbed?”


I scoffed. “Of course not.” I was expecting us to be murdered in cold blood on this quiet, lonely street. My head and body taken as a trophy for the powers that be, her corpse left to rot as a warning to my friends. I felt no need to tell her that, of course.


Her house was farther down the street, and I was counting the seconds until we got there. My fear of my father was no longer driving me – although it was still at the back of my mind. The world was deathly quiet, and the night was pitch black, save for some lights in some houses. My sword continued to shiver in my bag, and I shivered along with it. Sandra shivered as well.


“Chai,” she whispered, hugging herself. “How did it get so cold suddenly?”


I made an attempt at a nonchalant shrug. “Climate change, I guess.”


She laughed. I laughed too. My sword shook violently.

I gave a little backwards glance, but I saw no one behind us, save for a sliver of light buzzing about my face. Another firefly. I swatted it away, irritated.


There was a loud, derisive snort to my side. “You are jumpy tonight, aren’t you?” Sandra said.


I chuckled. “Streets are rough,” I said sheepishly.


“Not these streets…oww!” Sandra winced and slapped her neck. The firefly escaped, disappearing into the darkness.


“Sorry, eh,” I said. “Does it hurt?”


“It does.” Sandra moaned, rubbing the sore spot. She groaned and hissed. “I didn’t even know fireflies bit people.”


She collapsed faster than I could say, “They don’t.”


A movement to my left (I was now facing Sandra, who was unconscious on the road) drew my attention. A figure stood shrouded in the darkness. He looked like a regular human (who was naked or in skin tight clothing), but my instincts told me it wasn’t. I reached into my bag and pulled out my sword, holding it ready for the attack.


The world stood still, or at least, we did. The figure was unmoving in the darkness, and I was not going to move away from Sandra. The sword shook in my hand, but not from its power. I didn’t know what that thing was, and I had a policy against fighting things when I didn’t know how they could kill me. It’s a sage policy I wish more people would adopt.


After some time passed, I decided I would be proactive.


“What are you?!” I asked, putting down my sword. (What did you expect? I’d actually attack that thing? In the night? With no backup? Like an idiot?)


The thing said nothing, so I repeated the question, this time in the sacred tongue. It was still silent.


“Do you know who I am?” I cried. “I am Obagbagbare, the son of Obajobalai. How dare you stay silent when I command you?!” (Be not fooled by the authority in my words, I could not back them up. As I said before, my father wants me dead. Disowning me was no problem for him).


The figure moved. It put its hands to its stomach and made an odd, guttural, otherworldly sound that caught me off guard, so much so that I moved forward a step. It took me a while to realize it was laughter.


“You? The son of what? The son of who?” The thing said when it was done holding its sides. It spat before continuing. “Let me warn you: don’t you ever call my master’s name in vain again! Ever!”


“My father sent you?” I was not surprised, of course. “Then, why do you stand in the shadows like a coward. If you’re truly a son of spirits and not of man, come and fight me!" (What I’d meant to say was, 'Okay, how about you come over here and we can discuss this as rational individuals without resorting to violence,' but I guess I misplaced a few words here and there. The sacred tongue is complicated like that. We’ll let it be what it is.)


The thing laughed again. “And why would I fight an insect such as you?”


“You said my father sent you after me? I didn’t think he rewarded failure.”


“True. Your father does punish the failure of his own,” the figure replied. “But your father didn’t send me to kill you. Only to disgrace you.”


Disgrace me? That didn’t sound like old man Lai at all. Maybe he’s losing his touch. And disgrace me how? I asked the last question aloud. He replied with laughter that rattled my brain.


“They told me you were ignorant. But don’t worry. My work is already done.” He didn’t give me a chance to reel from being called ignorant (spirits put so much pressure on me for not knowing all the nuances of their world in the little time I’ve known of its existence. They’re like parents in a way) before continuing. “But if you insist on doing battle with your better, who am I to deny you your doom.”


The figure let out a quick laugh and bolted towards me at top speed. And this wasn’t human top speed. This was the top speed of the spirits, meaning he was upon me faster than I could cry “Arggh!”


“Arggh!” I cried. I shut my eyes and swung my sword blindly.


My sword exploded with a light so bright that it pierced through my eyelids. That’s how I knew I managed to hit it. (Fun fact: My sword is made from a steel sharper than steel, and can cut through reality like tissue paper).


I opened my eyes, and focused through the now dimming light. What I saw…would have horrified me months ago. At that point, I’d seen worse.


The thing looked pretty close to human, even with the four eyes and fangs sticking out its mouth. Its skin was golden brown, and it seemed to reflect the light from my sword. It was naked, and I saw a huge gash on its bare chest. Golden light, not blood, poured out of the wound, evaporating as it touched air.


The only thing I could note as odd was the smile on its face. Is it…happy? Proud, even? I told myself it was a trick of the light, but that was an obvious lie.


“And if you’re satisfied now, my prince,” it said, a mocking emphasis on the words 'prince' and 'satisfied'. “My work here is done.” And then, it vanished with the light into thin air, leaving me alone in darkness with my confusion...and Sandra.


I'll try to make this as brief as possible.

My name is Stone, my father wants to kill me, and an evil spirit has frozen my girlfriend.

I am dead serious.

I am not a regular teenager, and it was pretending to be one that got me into this mess.

Now, I have to enter the realm of dangerous and unpredictable spirits to fix my mess.

Will I succeed? I won't bet on it.

Part Three is Coming Soon. Tell us what you think of this story so far, in the comments section!

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