Chapter 3 #2
Together, Alawani and the maiden echoed, ‘May his soul find the city of light,’ as was customary to proclaim after the name of the dead was mentioned. The words had poured out of him without a second thought.
The maiden continued, not acknowledging his participation, ‘And son of our Royal Mother, ìyáàfin Olorì Atinu?k. The gods of the sun and sands call you to fulfil your destiny. They have spoken, and the High Priest of the Holy Order of the Sun Temple has confirmed the call. You are to be chosen from among many, blessed to be one of the Called, a priest of the Order.’
The maiden pulled out a string of white coral beads and stepped closer to him. Alawani backed away from her.
‘No,’ he burst out.
She tilted her head, and somehow, the deep frown lines creased across her face did not make her any less beautiful. She exhaled slowly, as though running out of patience with him, and repeated her words again.
‘No,’ Alawani said, interrupting her.
She snapped, ‘The gods do not ask your permission. They command, and you obey. You have been called,’ she said, holding up the beads. ‘Come here and take this. This is your fate.’
‘No one of royal blood has ever been called to be a priest of the Holy Order. Not since the day of the First Sun. It is forbidden.’
‘Who are you to tell the gods what is forbidden?’
‘Does your Order not claim that the gods forbid the crown to pass down from generation to generation within the same family lines? Is cutting off all connection to past royals not the reason why the Holy Order picks a new High Priest to sire a new heir every time a sovereign dies? I may not know much about what goes on within that temple, but I know that this should not be possible. A prince in the Holy Order? It has never been done.’
‘The gods decide what is forbidden, and they have called you.’
‘I said no,’ Alawani said, moving further away from her.
‘Tell the gods, the High Priest, and my grandfather.’ Alawani’s grandfather no longer held the titles of High Priest and Lord Regent – which he gained after the gods called him nearly seventy-six first suns ago – but remained a force to be reckoned with in the temple. ‘Tell them you asked, and I said no.’
‘Lord Regent Babátúndé confirmed your call, Prince of Oru. Your grandfather had nothing to do with it.’
Alawani scoffed, ‘You want me to believe that the former High Priest of the Sun Temple had no influence over those called to join his Order?’
The maiden sighed again, and this time, when she spoke, she did so in a low, even tone as those recalling the words of another.
‘Every decade since the day of the First Sun, many like you have been called to the Red Stone to return their agbára to the gods so that they might have a greater purpose. Today, you have been called to become a conduit for the gods of the sun and sands.’
‘I will not die for your gods.’
The maiden tossed the beads at his chest. ‘Do you know how many boys would give their lives for the honour of being called? How many will drop everything they have ever known or loved to even be considered worthy of the Order? You’re right.
No one as ungrateful and ignorant as you are deserves to be an àlùfáà of the Holy Order, yet here we are. ’
‘If you don’t think I should do this, then why are you here?’ Alawani said, watching as the poise and grace with which the maiden had walked up to him faded with every word she spoke in anger.
‘It is not my place to question the will of the gods, nor is it yours, no matter how unprecedented their decisions may seem.’
‘Who are you?’ Alawani asked cautiously.
‘I am Milúà, daughter of ìyá-Ayé, sword of the Sun Temple and spear of the crown. And I am your maiden.’ Then she added quietly, ‘Unfortunately.’
‘Unfortunately?’ he said, closing the gap between them.
She reached out in a quick move and cut him with a sharp blade. He didn’t see where she pulled the blade from or where she returned it to, but a thin line of blood blossomed on his arms, and he flinched away from her.
‘Curse the sun, what have you done?’
She stood silent before him, and within a few heartbeats, he could no longer feel his body, and the world swayed as he fell. He braced for impact, but it never came. Instead, Milúà caught him, put him to rest against a wall, and knelt before him.
‘You poisoned me,’ he managed to say as she blurred in and out of his vision. His body was still stiff and out of his control.
‘Listen to me,’ she said as she knelt before him.
‘Earlier tonight, the priests of the Holy Order gathered to witness the names of the people who were called by the gods for the trials. Six blood moons ago, the High Priest sent out his àlùfáà in pairs to live among the six rings of Oru, collecting the names of those they believed the gods wanted in the trials. Tonight, six gourds were placed before the Lord Regent, containing stones with those names inscribed upon them. A stone was pulled from the darkness of each gourd, and the one representing the capital city had your name on it. Prince Alawani.’
At that point, his eyes widened, but everything still blurred. Whatever she had given him paralysed him and dulled every sense except his hearing. Every word she said echoed as though the world had gone silent, and only her voice remained.
‘At first, the priests grumbled as expected.
We were all shocked. The priest who put your name in the gourd swore that the gods whispered your name to him on his travels.
The other priests even cast the sacred stones, consulting the gods to confirm the choice.
Your grandfather, àlùfáà-àgbà, spoke on your behalf, saying that there are two reasons we have the stripping ceremonies every ten first suns.
One is to choose the next High Priest who will sire the next ruler after the death of the crown heir, and the other, which he says is just as important, is to fulfil the oath we made with the gods to repay them for the powers they blessed us with.
The Red Stone will strip the chosen of their agbára, and without this sacrifice, and the sacrifice of all the chosen that have come before you and will come after you, the entire kingdom will lose the powers of the sun.
He reminded the Order that never has a name been returned to the gourd once chosen.
And he managed to convince them that your trial at the Red Stone will not break the rules the gods set for us about keeping royal blood from returning to the throne since we are still so many first suns and stripping ceremonies from the next High Priest choosing that you will be ineligible for the position.
‘The Lord Regent was not happy, I can tell you that. But he could not deny that the gods made it so that your stone was picked. In the end, he confirmed your call, saying that if the priest who put your name into the gourd was not speaking the truth, then you would not survive the Red Stone, and your grandfather was only sending you to your death. And only if you survive will he decide and declare a verdict on your position in the Order. So all you have to do, Alawani, Prince of Oru, is say yes.’
As her image blurred in and out of focus, the strong smell of the temple incense lingering around her sent his mind back to when he was a boy, and he heard his father’s voice reminding him of a promise he had made a long time ago.
The collision of Milúà’s hand across his cheek jarred him back to reality.
‘Are you listening?’ she said, peering into his face. ‘The Order has decided that you will join them and journey to the sun. And I am your maiden, which means my life is now in your hands, so I need you to say yes to this. Say yes, and I’ll give you the antidote for the poison.’
Alawani’s eyes rolled back, and he heard his father’s voice as clearly as though he were standing right next to him.
My son, you are àlùfáà. The old laws no longer serve this kingdom.
The gods have confirmed this to me. Death may come for us, but our line will never end.
These were his father’s dying words. When the call comes, promise you will accept it.
He was as confused now as he had been when he made this oath.
He did not know why his father had forced him to swear those words, and even now, many first suns later, he didn’t feel like he could outrun them.
He opened his eyes and found himself staring into Milúà’s dark gaze as she held his chin, turning his head back and forth.
His body was still out of his control, and his heart beat so slowly that he struggled to stay awake, but he would not yield.
He heard Milúà’s quiet grumbles as she pulled out a vial from her skirt and poured it down his throat.
He breathed slowly, inhaling the scent of her mixed with the cold night air.
The bitter liquid worked quickly, flowing through his body and releasing him from his prison.
He shoved her off and sprung up. She was on her feet as quickly as he was.
‘You could have killed me!’ he said with a strained voice.
‘You are chosen now. No mortal can kill you without the wrath of the Holy Order and the gods. I just needed you to listen and see reason.’
‘Oh gods, why is this happening to me?’ Alawani said, leaning against the wall.
Milúà didn’t respond.
‘You say I can’t walk away from this. But someone already did.’
Milúà cut him off, ‘You want to live the life of a coward? In this kingdom? Your grandfather would see you dead before he’d let you dishonour his family name.
Moreover, that man survived the Red Stone and then turned his back on the Order.
He did not deny the call of the gods to return his agbára to them.
If you turn away from this, be ready for what comes next. ’