Hello everyone, Happy new Month. This is one of the stories on my fiction based site, enjoy!

(www.ireader66..com)


Beneath the large mahogany tree, Iyanga was seating with her legs crossed as she gazed into the stable flame of the candle before her. Its warm orange light danced against her dark skin, reflecting in her eyes like tiny stars.

A gentle voice stirred her from her meditation. "The hour grows late, my friend. Another restless night?"

Iyanga turned to see Chinelo, her dear friend and elder, approaching with a woven basket in her hands. "The same vision haunts me, Chinelo. I fear what it might foretell for our people."

Chinelo settled beside her, offering the basket. "Eat, you must keep your strength. Now tell me of this dream."

Iyanga selected a plump mango from the basket. "I stand atop the sacred mountain, beneath a night sky filled with more stars than I've ever seen. A great hawk soars above, its wings spanning the entire valley below. Then something strange occurs - the hawk metamorphoses into a woman. She tells me 'The time has come to break the curse that binds us. Only through friendship and love can tyranny's shadow be lifted.'"

Chinelo nodded thoughtfully. "This vision holds great significance. The symbols point to change on the wind - change that you, Iyanga, are destined to lead."

"But how can one woman stand against the cruelty of King Osita?" Iyanga sighed. "Another harvest moon approaches, and with it, the dreaded choosing ritual. I fear for whom the lot may fall upon this time."

A grim silence fell over them as they pondered the inevitable fate awaiting one young virgin of their village. For over a decade, the wicked sovereign King Osita had sacrificed an innocent girl to Nnabuike, a mystical entity said to control the bounty of their land. While the ritual brought abundant harvests each season, its toll on the people's souls grew ever heavier.

Chinelo took Iyanga's hands in hers. "Do not lose hope. The ancestors would not burden you with these visions if change were not possible. You give our people courage when all seems lost. And you shall not face this darkness alone - I am with you, my sister, until the end."

A faint smile touched Iyanga's lips, warmed by Chinelo's unwavering support. Her vivid dreams, coupled with the elder's wise counsel, began stirring something deep within - a flame of defiance that refused to be quenched, no matter the peril that lay ahead.

"Together, then. Let us seek answers in the old texts - there may yet be a way to lift this plague from our kingdom."

The next day's light illuminated a grim procession through the village lanes. All around, fearful faces watched as a hooded figure led the chosen one - a delicate young woman dressed in pure white - towards the dreaded ritual grounds atop the mountain.

Ugonma walked with her head held high, though tears silently streamed down her cheeks. She had accepted her fate with quiet grace, not wanting to distress her family further. Her heart broke knowing the sorrow her absence would bring them, and all those she would never see smile or laugh again.

As the procession went by, Iyanga watched with a cold fury in her eyes. Beside her, Chinelo muttered ancient incantations, sending prayers of protection with the girl on her final journey. Both women swore then that this would be the last sacrifice King Osita would demand, if they had any say in the matter.

That night, beneath a harvest moon glowing crimson as blood, Iyanga & Chinelo worked fervently by candlelight, scouring musty scrolls for any clue that could aid their cause. Moments before dawn, Chinelo gasped, having found a striking passage:

"When the souls of six intertwine - the brave and compassionate, the wise counselor, the innocent sacrificed, the cursed spirit seeking redemption, the heir who opens his eyes, and the guide of the people - only then can tyranny's shackles be broken."

"Six souls..." Iyanga breathed. "Could this be the sign we have been waiting for? Fate is bringing us allies, Chinelo - I can feel it deep within my soul. We must venture forth and find them, wherever they may be."

No sooner had the words left her lips than a ghastly cold swept through the hut, extinguishing every candle with an icy breath. From the ebony darkness emerged an ethereal figure, its body wispy and translucent. Twin orbs of violet flame flickered where its eyes should have been, regarding the women with an air of pensive patience.

Iyanga rose, unafraid yet curious & addressed the apparition calmly. "Who are you, spirit? What do you want from us?"

A hollow voice like dead leaves crinkling issued from the thing. "I was once a prince of this land...until I dared defy the king's madness and paid dearly for it. Now I am cursed to wander these cursed grounds until my debt is repaid & my soul finds peace."

Chinelo eyed the entity warily. "You were doomed for challenging unjust rule, as we do now. Might you join our cause, prince-that-was, and aid us in lifting this plague from the people?"

The ghost considered for a long time. "I seek only an end to this torment. Free my soul, and you shall have my sworn allegiance until the end of days." A bony hand extended towards them in a gesture of binding pact.

Iyanga took the spectral appendage fearlessly. "Then it is agreed. You are the third soul foretold - with your knowledge and our combined power, no shadow can withstand us."

Hope kindled anew in Chinelo's heart as she watched the alliance form. Fate was shuffling the threads, weaving a tapestry that would see their oppressed kingdom reborn.

While the women planned in secret, unrest was growing across the land. Prince Okafor often rode alone through the ghostly forests, wrestling with uneasy doubts about his father's reign. The people's despair weighed heavy on his heart, though he remained ignorant of its true cause for so long.

That night, as crimson-tinted storm clouds gathered on the horizon, the prince's weary travels brought him to a humble village hut just within the treeline. He heard voices inside and paused, listening intently - and what he heard made his blood run cold.

Two women spoke of dark rituals, cursed princes, and a tyrannical king's unforgivable crimes against his people. Okafor could hardly believe the horrors done in his name. Rage and grief battled within as understanding dawned, piercing the veil that had shielded him from truth for so long.

He burst into the hut, startling its occupants. The women rose defensively, but the prince came in peace. "Please, I mean you no harm. All I seek are answers to explain the darkness shadowing my kingdom...and my soul."

Iyanga & Chinelo shared a knowing look. This tormented young man fit the scroll's prophecy perfectly - he who would open his eyes to tyranny & stand with them against it.

Iyanga stepped forth. "We have been expecting you, Prince Okafor. Come, sit - it is time we lifted the shroud of deception and showed you the path towards redemption and justice for your people."

And so began Okafor's awakening. Through that stormy night & into the dawn, the women recounted all they had suffered & learned. The ghostly prince added his tragic tale as well. By the time the crimson clouds broke, a steely determination had taken root in Okafor's heart.

He rose, vowing, "You have my pledge to aid your cause however I can. With the truth seen at last, I know now where my loyalties must lie - not with a wicked king, but with the innocent souls he has tormented for far too long. Together, we shall forge a new destiny for Amagu."

Iyanga smiled, hope sparking brighter than any star. The final piece of their plan was falling into place.

As the moon of choosing rose once more, despair blanketed the land. But amidst the shadows, small flames of defiance were igniting everywhere the women, prince, and ghostly ally traveled.

In a remote farming village, a joyous wedding celebration came to an abrupt halt as King Osita's guards arrived, dragging the innocent bride Ugonma away screaming. Her distraught family could only watch helplessly.

Except for one - Farmer Nnabuike, whose own daughter had been sacrificed years prior. An unquenchable fury now burned where tears once flowed freely at his loss. As Ugonma was taken, he let out an anguished howl that shook the valley, then charged after the procession with axe in hand, heedless of danger.

Iyanga's group happened upon this piteous scene, and Okafor's calming words alone dissuaded Nnabuike from a confrontation that would have ended in his death. Through heaving sobs the farmer told them everything, and as the last light faded from the sky, a resolve was born.

To be continued...

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