Mẹta Lo Kan: Three-In-One By Suyi Davies Okungbowa
I Listen well, citizens of Aye, land of life and thrive, for it has been foretold by the Great Herald Ijapa the Tortoise, that these events will happen. There will come a day, when one who possesses thunder and lightning in his fingers will create the Neverending Storm, a rainstorm big enough to destroy the world. He will acknowledge that humanity’s activities have for so long impacted the earth’s environment, rendering it near inhabitable in the future. So, like disasters of yore that once descended on the earth and rid it of all that lived (remember the dinosaurs?), he will believe that the only way to fix the earth’s problems is to destroy everything and rebuild it anew. We only know him by his salutation—Kabiyesi, which means, he who must not be questioned. To do this, he will steal the three powers of a storm—winds, clouds, and rains—from other gods. With each contained in bottomless gourds, he will return to his palace, and there, he will animate them with his thunder and lightning, and with that, create the biggest storm the world has ever seen. No one will know until it is too late, because he will shield his work from gods and the godlike everywhere. These events are sure to happen—as sure as the sun will rise! But I say: listen well! In the same breath, the Great Herald Ijapa also speaks of heroes risen from you, people of Aye. Three fruits of your earthly wombs, exalted to the role of demigods. He calls them Mẹta Lo Kan: Three-In-One. It is foretold that fate will bring together these heroes, and they will journey across lands to find those whose powers have been stolen. They will gain the information they seek, and armed with it, venture into the eye of the Neverending Storm to retrieve the gods’ powers and restore balance to the world. Along the way, they will meet strangers and messengers who will offer them riddles that may aid or divert, one may never tell. To save the world, Mẹta Lo Kan must come with their wits, skills and willingness to work together. Tell me, citizens of Aye: are you ready to become demigods?
II Chidera loved everything about the rain. Her parents say when she was a toddler, the pitter-patter of new rain always drew a giggle from her. As an older child, she ran outside whenever the winds blew and rumbles of thunder came, and inhaled deeply with delight, drinking in the smell of petrichor. It was no surprise, then, that she began to study how the rains came. In Aye, they called her a Rainmaker. A misnomer, really, because all she did was study winds and their patterns: where they originated, what directions they blew in, how they picked up moisture and clouds and made rain. With this knowledge, she built various mechanical contraptions, each one designed to capture the wind, work its power into something new. Some predicted weather patterns, some helped draw rain in certain directions, and some helped harness wind energy into other forms. A maker of things, she was, a tinkerer extraordinaire. Little wonder, then, that when the prophecy of Ijapa came to Aye, her family, friends and community took one look at her and said: We see Mẹta Lo Kan in you. And so it came to pass one day, as Chidera stood on the bank of Aye’s biggest river, testing one of her new contraptions. The clouds began to swirl, and a new shape took form within them: dark, angry, menacing. They stretched their limbs and blocked out the sun, casting lightning in every direction. Chidera watched, wondering how her contraptions hadn’t picked up on them. An owl landed in the branches above her and hooted. Chidera looked up, and it said to her: “Child of Aye, I am Elegba. Listen, and I will tell you a riddle.” * His name was Salisu, but everyone called him Something’s Coming because he would throw down cowrie shells, peer into the scattered pieces by his feet, and say: “Something’s coming,” The art of divination, passed down from generation to generation in his family, was something he’d learned by watching his own father. The man would sing verses in the tongues of ancient gods and throw down the cowrie shells, then wait for patterns to emerge. Only when they did would he speak, sometimes in half-riddles, praise songs and incantations, but always ending in words that braided past and present and future together. For Salisu, divining didn’t just mean peering into the past and future. He was most gifted at nature reading, watching the leaves and soil and animals and environment, how each turned, changed, opened or recoiled with the passing of seasons. With these signs, he could tell which herb could be used to make a healing potion, which animal had walked through
the compound at midnight, when the crop yields would be bountiful. Though young still, he became the most prominent diviner in the land in this way. Yet, one thing Salisu desired was to be more than just a diviner, working for his family and his community. He wanted to learn more about the world and use his divination for something bigger. All he needed was a sign. The sign came soon enough, when one fateful day, he stood outside his compound and looked to the sky to find that the clouds had turned. These new clouds bared teeth, and a guttural growl rolled through them. “Something’s coming,” Salisu murmured. An owl landed on his roof. “Yes indeed,” said Elegba the owl. “The balance of storms is askew. Perhaps you can help restore it before it’s too late. But to do so, you must solve this riddle.” * Deep in the mountain communities of Aye lived twins called Taiwo and Kehinde, named after the gods of life and rebirth. People often joked that they had to be children of gods to be named after them. Taiwo and Kehinde, who knew the importance of names, knew they were no demigods, but also knew the responsibility that came with bearing such names. And so, as soon as they were old enough, they set out to learn everything they could about the world. Their search soon brought them to the realm of arcane knowledge, and the realm of supernatural abilities. Through intense study and practice, they soon learned various forms of alchemy and old magic. Taiwo, who was the older twin, was especially good at crafting edibles that gave her strength, which made her very good at things like climbing. Kehinde, through the use of a special pair of goggles he had crafted himself, learned how to project illusions just by thinking them up, allowing him to engage in various forms of trickery. Together, they used their gifts for the community, helping to make space in the mountains to build more houses. One day, as the skies gathered for an impending storm, an owl visited their home. “The skies grow dark,” said Elegba the owl. “Your assistance is required at the crossroads.” Taiwo and Kehinde knew where the crossroads were. They had seen them from the top of the mountains. “What kind of assistance?” asked Taiwo.
“The fate of the world may just lie in your hands,” said Elegba. “If you solve this riddle.”
III Here is your riddle, child of Aye: What is quiet when loudest, serene when most raging? Who brings tears from the eyes of the world? Like three fruits cojoined on a guava stem, the answer lies at the crossroads between worlds.
IV The crossroads between worlds was a legendary intersection where wind, water and earth met. Which is to say, it was a meeting point between a river and a road, and was often besieged by fierce competing winds. At the middle of this confluence stood an island, and in the middle of this island was an Iroko tree. It was in this tree that Elegba sat when the Mẹta Lo Kan arrived. The twins came first, because they already knew the way, having seen it from the top of their mountains. Next came Salisu, who had followed the patterns of migrating birds. Lastly came Chidera, who had followed the clouds, which darkened in a special manner that caused them to congeal at the crossroads. “You are chosen,” said Elegba, once they were all gathered, “because you have all heard the prophecy and responded. The role of hero and demigod was bestowed upon you by neither human nor god, but by your own selfless actions to save the world.” “Save the world from what?” asked Chidera. “Yes,” said Salisu. “We don’t even know what or who we are fighting. Has anyone solved the riddle yet?” The twins and Chidera shook their heads. “Also, we are four,” said Taiwo. “Didn’t the prophecy say three?” “I am but a messenger,” said Elegba. “I do not have the answers. But if you cross into the land where gods, spirits and monsters dwell, you will find answers there.” The owl swung a wing, and suddenly, a section of the Iroko tree was open. A dark pathway loomed, large enough for a person to squeeze through.
“Only heroes may pass,” said Elegba. “Are you heroes?” The four looked at one another. Then, one by one, they stepped into the Iroko tree and plunged into the land of spirits. * The land of gods, spirits and monsters was the exact same as Aye, but something was different about it. The air was thicker, forcing them to move slower, as if underwater. The sun was the same, but as if it didn’t shine brightly enough, so that the land seemed like it was in perpetual twilight. It was also completely bare, with no one in sight. Only rickety trees that bore no fruit and pathways in every direction. “Spooky,” said Chidera, whipping out her phone to make a note, then realizing it was dead. “Great. No electronics work here in this…what are we calling this place?” “Underland,” said Salisu, wearing an expression of brooding concern. “Maybe we should solve the riddle first and see where that takes us,” said Kehinde. “Quiet when loudest, serene when most raging,” said Chidera. “That sounds like a storm—like the quiet eye of a storm?” “That makes sense,” said Taiwo. “Because the next line is Who brings tears from the eyes of the world.” “So we’re looking for kind of like a Rainmaker,” said Salisu. “Like you, Chidera.” “Or someone who fashion storms, like the prophecy says,” said Chidera. “I’m not sure if the three fruits conjoined means us or something else,” said Kehinde. “Maybe if we look around?” asked Salisu. “It did say the answer lies at the crossroads, and this is the crossroads.” They began to look around. Before long, the twins found something: three stones conjoined to one another. They weren’t just ordinary stones: they were shiny, particulate, like sand fused together to become gold. “Thunderstones,” said Salisu, at the same time Chidera said, “Lightning stones.” “What are those?” asked the twins? “They go by many names,” said Chidera. “They form when lightning strikes the ground.”
“In my town, they are omens of a big storm coming,” said Salisu. “When we find stones like these, we offer them back up for placation, asking whichever storm gods are listening to spare our crops and buildings and those who walk alone in open fields.” “I think I have it,” said Chidera. “We find three gods each missing one of the parts of the Neverending Storm—a god of winds, a god of clouds, and a god of rains.” She poked at the stones. “Maybe this means we find a lightning person for the god of rains?” “Or maybe this Kabiyesi person is a lightning god,” said Kehinde. Salisu raised a finger. “I might have an idea about who we can ask.”
V The god’s name was Perun. In Salisu’s family’s tradition, he was a comrade of the deities they paid homage to, and had always been accessible to his father and forebears whenever they wished it. Salisu believed if they could find Perun, he would definitely know who this Kabiyesi was—that is, if his powers hadn't been stolen too. So they began their walk through Underland in search of him. Underland was bleak and deserted, barren of life and thrive. They did not come upon any other person, save for stranded messenger after stranded messenger—independent beings who did not answer to any god or human, but existed as purveyors of balance. Like Elegba the owl, they all took the shape of animals, and spoke in riddles and parables, and out of both sides of their mouths, making it impossible for one to tell if they were lying or telling the truth. Unfortunately for the heroes, these messengers were the only ones they could ask about Perun. "I hear he died," said a bat. “Dissolved into the clouds or something.” “No, I heard he went up in flames,” said an earthworm. “But I hear you can invoke him if you know the right words. And you're in luck! I know the right words. If you'll follow me” “No, come with me!” said a sly dragonfly. “I know where he is, and I can show you.” The four heroes were not so easily fooled, though, and did not take most of the stories and invitations to heart. Not until they came upon the spider, who recognized them for who they were. “Mẹta Lo Kan,” he said, after he spotted them as he hung upside-down from his web. “It is an honor to meet the ordained demigods of Aye.” “Who are you?” asked Chidera.
“Permit me to introduce myself,” he said. “I am Ananse.” “The trickster,” said Salisu. “No, no,” said the spider, blinking his multiple eyes. “That is a rumor.” “Can you tell us where Perun the storm god is, then?” asked Taiwo. Ananse wriggled his many legs, then blinked. “No. But I can show you a wind god whose wind was stolen.” * The wind god was Shu, and he stood at a spot very similar to the place where the four heroes had entered Underland. It was a crossroad, but unlike Elegba’s, was a crossroad of light. Light and darkness criss-crossed one another like day and night interfacing, and Shu stood in the center of it all, tall and radiant. Ananse introduced them. When Shu heard their name and the prophecy that had brought them to Underland, he nodded. “I once was keeper of wind and light for my people—now I am keeper of only light,” he said. “I closed my eyes for a short moment—only a short moment!" He sighed. "Well, whoever stole the wind while I slumbered can’t be far away yet. Can't be using it for good either.” He inhaled deeply. “I can feel it, how they twist the wind for their own purpose. I would track it, but alas, I must stand guard at these crossroads and maintain this light, else the world will be plunged into darkness forever.” He pointed to the four. “You can get it back for me?” “If you tell us how we may trace it, yes,” said Chidera. “Which one of you understands light?” Chidera stepped forward. “They call me a tinkerer.” Shu nodded approvingly. “You’ll do. Now listen closely.” He handed her a tool or two, and guided her in the building of a contraption. When they were done, it looked like… “A flashlight?” Chidera sounded disappointed. “A broken one, too,” added Kehinde. “Look, it doesn’t even turn on.” “That is not just any light,” said Shu, who then put forward his arm. A ball of light formed in his hand, then settled into the head of the flashlight. He snapped his fingers, and it came on,
light so blinding they had to shield their eyes. Suddenly, Underland was dark and soulless no more. They could see every portion of it in relief. “Follow this light,” said Shu. “It will shine brighter whenever you are moving in the right direction. Where it shines brightest is where the wind is located.” “Is there a map of this land?” asked Salisu. “It’ll help us find the thief sooner.” “I can help you with that,” said Ananse. Ananse spun a web in front of the beam of the flashlight, so that they could see the map of Underland drawn out by the shadows cutting through the beam. They thanked Ananse and Shu. “Don’t thank us,” said the wind god. “Fulfill the prophecy. Save the world.” * Map and light in hand, the four heroes began to navigate Underland as quickly as they could. But being human, soon they succumbed to tiredness of the limbs and the rumblings of their stomach. So they took a detour from their search and foraged for food. However, nothing grew in Underland, and they found their search for food unfruitful. Soon, they met another messenger, a jackal who, upon recognizing them, twisted her head this way and that, a glint in her eye. “My name is Akata,” she said. “Perhaps I can point you in the direction of some food and water. In fact, I can do you one better: in the same place you will find food and water, you will find someone who can point you in the direction of this god you seek—Perun. But first, I will need something from you.” “What?” asked the four. “The answer to a riddle, of course!”
VI Here is your riddle, Mẹta Lo Kan: What is loud and raging when it descends, tranquil when laid on its back? What never ascends, and from whose lips the earth weeps?
VII “I hate that all these riddles sound the same,” said Chidera, once Akata the jackal had left them. “Me too,” said Sailsu. “I know they all have to do with water somehow, but I’m too hungry to think about which.” “It’s a waterfall,” said Kehinde. “A river is what is tranquil when laid on its back, and the waterfall at the end of that river is loud and raging when it descends. Also, a waterfall never ascends, and is kind of like weeping from the earth if you think about it.” “We have many waterfalls back home, so that’s easy for us,” said Taiwo, then pointed at the spider-web map. “And here in Underland, there’s only one.” * The waterfall was called Iṣawuru after the freshwater snails that lived in it. These snails were the food Akata had been speaking about, and the water the drink. The four wasted no time gulping the water to refresh their thirst, as well as splashing some of it over themselves to ease their aching feet. Afterward, they sat around and discussed how they would catch the snails, and how they would make a fire to roast them and eat. But as they sat there and discussed, they began to feel drowsy. And suddenly, all of them at once fell into a deep sleep. * They awoke into darkness, and to a grumbling voice that bellowed around them. “Who dares enter my lair to eat of my food and drink of my water?” The four heroes rose and looked around. It was darker than usual, so that they couldn’t see anything. Their flashlight had stopped working for some reason. “I ask again,” the angry voice said. “Who dares enter? Answer me now, or be eaten.” “We are Mẹta Lo Kan,” said Chidera. “Heroes from Aye, here to find the one who brings the Neverending Storm to the world and stop him.” Silence, then a grumble. The light in the lair began to return slowly. Two figures emerged: a leopard, and behind her, Akata the jackal from earlier. “Pardon me, demigods,” said the leopard. “My name is Ẹkun, and I am the guardian of this lair, built to offer sustenance only to those who are worthy. And you—I have heard of the prophecies of Ijapa the Tortoise. You are most welcome here.”
“Did the water make us sleep?” asked Salisu, then gasped. “Is that what you do—trick people here, and then…” “Eat them?” asked Ẹkun. “Yes, that is exactly what guardian of the lair means, demigod. But in fairness, I asked Akata to send me food, not heroes!” The jackal chucked herself in a corner and laughed, it wasn’t clear why. “Anyway, eat and drink of your fill,” said Ẹkun. “Here, I can even help you make a fire.” After the fire was made, the snails roasted and eaten, and more water drunk, the heroes told Ẹkun the same thing they had told Ananse the spider, and asked if she knew where they could find Perun. “Sadly not,” said Ẹkun. “But I can tell you where to find a goddess whose clouds were stolen.” * The goddes’s name was Nephele. She wasn’t really a goddess, but a cloud deity. Akata the jackal led them to where Nephele stood at a crossroads—one just like where Shu had stood, but this one of clouds. Akata told them that Nephele had been formed by a god called Zeus to trick someone, and since then, had dedicated herself to keeping the order of clouds from going askance. But as they neared the crossroads, the four could see that the balance of clouds was already shifting. They were no longer fluffy and warm, but angry and gray. Thunder boomed and lightning sparked orange and the winds picked up. Whoever was brewing the Neverending Storm was not slowing down. The heroes didn’t have much time left. “Three-in-one, eh?” said Nephele, after Akata introduced them to her. “Then why are you four?” She asked this, poised atop fluffy white clouds that were beginning to turn a sour gray. She looked very beautiful, but also very sad. “We don’t know either,” said the twins. “Well how do you know you are the heroes spoken about, then?” she asked. “Because we believe in ourselves,” said Chidera. “And in each other,” Salisu completed. Nephele regarded them for a moment, then said: “Well, I guess belief is sufficient.”
She told them the story of how she lost her clouds. It was very similar to Shu’s story, and all present concluded that the thief of clouds was likely the thief of Shu’s winds. And just like Shu, Nephele could not afford to leave her post, lest the balance of clouds go completely bonkers. “Is there a way we can trace your clouds the way we can trace Shu’s light?” asked Salisu. “Indeed there is,” said Nephele, then waves her arms, as if dancing. A cloud appeared above the four heroes. “Follow that cloud,” she said. “It’ll lead you to the others.” The cloud above them growled. Fingers of lightning flashed within it, and it began to turn red. “Quick now,” said Nephele. “You don’t have much time.”
VIII It was a challenge to determine how to find the Neverending Storm. Shu’s light and Nephele’s cloud each pointed them in two different directions. The only way they could be sure what path was the best was to still find Perun, who was sure to know who this Kabiyesi person was. So they continued in their search for Perun, asking every messenger they met along the way. No luck—until they met a white egret dipping water into its beak from a little shallow pond. “I do not know any Perun,” said the egret, who called herself Lekeleke. “But I recognize your name, Mẹta Lo Kan, and I know someone who can help.” This someone turned out to be Ijapa the Tortoise himself! The Great Herald sat on a stone underneath a hill and tucked his hands into his shell, waiting. “I knew you would answer the call of destiny,” he said, once Lekeleke had brought the four to him. “Welcome, demigods.” The four heroes sat in front of Ijapa, rapt and attentive. “I will tell you a story in a moment,” said Ijapa. “But first, I can see you are burning with questions.” His gaze was trained on the twins. “Three-in-one,” said Taiwo, “and yet we are four.” “Everyone has been asking us about that,” said Kehinde. “And when we have no answer, we look like we are liars.”
“Ah, the age-old misconception,” said Ijapa. “Perhaps the error is in counting the number of people.” He leaned forward. “What are the exact words of the prophecy?” “Three fruits of your earthly wombs,” said Taiwo, realizing the error. “And that you are!” said Ijapa. “Perhaps, it would serve you better to worry less about what others in this world or yours think of you. Worry, instead, about the responsibility destiny has bequeathed upon you, and how you may retrieve the stolen powers and prevent the Neverending Storm.” “Who is it, then, this Kabiyesi person?” asked Chidera. “Well, I believe it is time you knew,” said Ijapa. “So let me tell you about Sango.”
IX Listen well, children of Aye, land of life and thrive, as the Great Herald Ijapa the Tortoise tells a tale of misguidance and [betrayal]. There once was a king in an old empire, whose anger was so renowned that he was honored but also feared. No one dared question him because they did not want to be on the receiving end of his anger. It was how he got his salutation—Kabiyesi, which means, he who must not be questioned. After a long, troubled life, he left such an impact in his own world that he was ascended into the realm of gods and spirits—what you may now know as Underland—and given the opportunity to channel his incandescent anger into something useful. This is how he came to be the purveyor of all things raging and loud: thunder, lightning, storms. This is how he became Sango. So far, all has been well in both worlds. But Sango, being of original human disposition, retained an eye and ear on the happenings of the human world from which he came. His dual nature allowed him to move between worlds at will. His dual nature has made him difficult to detect and find—both in Underland and the human realm—and so he has become a master of disguise and stealth. Which is why no one knew what he was planning until it was too late. See, Sango paid witness to some of the activities in the human world, and was particularly angered by them. He saw people wreak havoc on the soil, on the forests, on the trees, on the waters, on everything that is natural and beautiful—all for selfish, personal gain. He watched as the world he once loved changed and devolved into something broken, dire, desperate. He watched this repeat itself over and over for centuries, until he had had enough, and decided to do something about it.
But remember, Sango had never completely rid himself of that rage. So he had only one response: destroy everything and rebuild it anew. And the one way he knew to do that was to create the Neverending Storm. So, quietly and unannounced—remember how I said he became a master of stealth?—Sango began to pinch powers from other gods who presided over storm elements: rains, clouds, winds. Especially those outside his own pantheon, who would have no idea what he was doing until it was too late. Until, like disasters of yore that once descended on the earth and rid it of all that lived, the Neverending Storm would restart life in the human world. Of course, he forgot one aspect, which is that those responsible for destroying the earth are only but a few! A small number compared to most of the human world who actually want the earth to thrive. And now, his Neverending Storm would destroy those good people too! This is why we have the Mẹta Lo Kan: to find Sango and remind him of this truth.
X “So that is how we stop him?” asked Taiwo, when Ijapa was finished with his tale. “With…a discussion?” “Conflicts can be solved in a number of ways,” said Ijapa. “It would behoove us to always choose one where all parties can emerge unharmed.” “So you have always known it was Sango?” asked Kehinde. “Why didn’t you stop him all this time? Or at least let the other gods know, so they can stop him? Why bring us?” The tortoise seemed to shrug. “I am but a lowly messenger. I can only offer a message I have received, and nothing more. This is what I have done—give a message, which at first happened to be the prophecy, and now, happens to be a story about an aggrieved lightning god. Now, perhaps, it is your turn to do something with what you have received.” “Where is Sango now?” asked Chidera. Shrug, again. “Did I mention he is a master of stealth and disguise? No one knows where he is.” Then he paused. “Okay, maybe not no one.” “Who is it?” asked Salisu. “Who knows?” “Someone I’m sure you’ve been dying to meet,” he said. “Come. Let me take you to Perun.” *
The clouds thickened and lightning flashed more and the winds blew fiercer as Ijapa led the heroes to the mountain under which Perun lay motionless. The heroes knew they were going in the right direction because for the first time, Shu’s light waxed stronger and led in the same direction as Nephele’s cloud. When they arrived at the mountain under which Perun lay, they gasped. It was a towering, gigantic mountain whose top they couldn’t even see from this far below. And atop it roiled the largest storm they had ever seen. Thick clouds circled overhead, and thunder and lightning boomed. The winds were strong enough to uproot several palm trees. “That is where Sango must be,” said Chidera, pointing to the peak. “Perun must have been chasing him, just like us,” said Salisu. Indeed, when they found the rain god Perun, this turned out to be the case. He lay in the darkness beneath the mountain, pale and feeble. He recognized Salisu from his family ties, and then Ijapa the Tortoise, and then the heroes as Mẹta Lo Kan. “After my rains were stolen,” Perun explained once they told him of their quest, “my crossroads ran dry. I had to abandon them in pursuit of Sango, but the further away from my crossroads I went, the weaker I became. After a long time, I could no longer keep up. Now, I can only sit here and rest.” “This is why the other gods could not leave their crossroads,” explained Ijapa. “There’s another answer for you!” “How will we defeat him?” asked the twins. Perun stared at the four heroes. “I don’t know. I did not have a plan for myself either. With all these stolen powers in addition to his, he is more powerful than us all. No one should be allowed to have that much power.” He cocked his head. “But you four—you are blessed by destiny. You, too, have collected the powers of gods. Perhaps, I can give of the powers I have left, and adding that to your clouds and light, you may pose a deterrent to him. And then you can bring back the rains for me, and the winds to Shu, and the clouds to Nephele.” Perun waved an arm, and suddenly, a staff appeared in Salisu’s hand. “That is a lightning stick,” said Perun, “It is the best thing I can give you. Lift that to the sky and thunder and lightning will obey.” Ijapa turned to face the heroes.
“This is where I must leave you, Mẹta Lo Kan. The powers you seek, you will find in three bottomless gourds in which Sango holds them. Retrieve those gourds, and you retrieve the lost powers. Even that which he has already animated to create this storm will cease and follow you.” The tortoise paused. “I have nothing of my own to give you, but perhaps I may offer you the only thing I can to aid in your quest.” “Let me guess,” said the four heroes together. “A riddle.” Ijapa the Tortoise laughed, and then gave them the riddle.
XI Here is your final riddle, Mẹta Lo Kan: Tinker, tinker, generate Something divine, now create Strength and sight, both beheld Victory lies in a threefold meld.
XII When the four heroes left Perun and Ijapa had left them to their fate, they did not need to think too much to figure out what the riddle meant—and what the message was. “Tinker, something divine, strength and sight,” said Salisu. “That’s us, right?” Chidera nodded. “My invention, your divination, Taiwo’s strength, Kehinde’s illusions.” She pointed to herself. “Cultivate.” She pointed to Salisu. “Create.” She pointed to the twins. “Behold.” “But what do those mean?” asked Kehinde. “I only know what threefold meld means—we can defeat him if we put all our abilities together.” “Well, we’ll never do that if we stand around talking,” said Taiwo, pointing upward to the growing storm cloud. “Why don’t we solve the riddle on the way up?” “How are we going to get up there?” asked Salisu. “I can’t climb.” Taiwo reached into her bag, pulled out an edible she had made, and chomped on it. “Luckily for us,” she said, “I’m strong and am very good at climbing, so that’s one part of the riddle we don’t have to solve.” She turned her back to them and patted her shoulder. “Climb on!”
Just like that, Taiwo carried all three on her back with ease. And then, with a speed and dexterity that belied belief, she began to ascend the mountain. When they were halfway up, Chidera had an idea. “I think the riddle was trying to tell each of us what to do,” she said. “Mine says generate, which I think means I’m supposed to make something. Maybe a plan?” “And mine says now create,” said Salisu. “Maybe instead of interpreting things, I’m supposed to make them?” He tapped at Perun’s lightning stick. “Like, maybe, create lightning?” “And then the twins are supposed to use the abilities they behold, just like Taiwo is right now,” said Chidera. “Kehinde, did you bring your illusion goggles?” Kehinde put on his goggles and nodded. “Ready!” * When they arrived at the top of the mountain, the wind was at its peak, and yet it remained foggy. Thick, angry clouds circled a central source of light, causing their vision to be limited. Luckily, Shu’s light was still with them, and it glowed brightly enough for them to see. And then saw Sango stand at the center of it all. He wasn’t as mean-looking as they had imagined. He was tall and well built, and he held a double-headed axe in his hand, from which lightning came forth similar to Perun’s stick. His eyes, bright and white, were focused on the three gourds before him—the bottomless gourds Ijapa had spoken of. From each of these gourds came the elements of a storm—clouds, winds, rain—and mixed with his lightning and thunder. Together, they rose into the air and fed the angry storm clouds gathering above. “Stop!” Chidera was the first to scream. And then the others joined in, a chorus: “Stop! Stop! Stop!” Ṣango, god of thunder and lightning, turned around and looked at the heroes standing before him. “Who are you?” he bellowed. His voice was thunder. “We are Mẹta Lo Kan,” said Chidera. “Three-in-one.” “And we are here to take back those stolen gifts,” added Taiwo. Ṣango looked all three of them up and down. “I have heard of you. But I did not expect you to be so…small.”
“We may each be small,” said Salisu. “But together, we are big.” “And all we want is for the balance of the world to be restored,” Kehinde added. “For all gods to have their full powers back.” “Now why would I do that?” said Ṣango. “Have you not heard of what I intend to do?” “We have heard your story,” said Chidera. “But we think you are wrong. Many innocent people are going to suffer because of your Neverending Storm. No such person should be allowed to hold such power.” “I do not intend to hold it,” said Ṣango. “I intend to use it. You can either help me restore the earth to its greatness, or you can get out of my way.” Salisu stepped forward. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But we can’t really allow that.” Ṣango shrugged. “Have it your way.” He swung his axe in their direction, and lightning came at them. At the exact same time, Salisu set Perun’s lightning stick forward, and lightning came from it as well. The two bolts of lightning met in the middle and crashed into one another, sparking overwhelming light. But something else was happening. The storm clouds above began to diminish, now that Ṣango no longer fed them with lightning. And Chidera saw this immediately. “This is it!” she said. “What I’m supposed to do!” She turned to the twins. “Quick, Taiwo—while he’s occupied, grab the gourds!” Taiwo moved swiftly, but Sango spotted her out of the corner of his eye. He turned in her direction and made to move his axe. But Chidera was already thinking ahead of him. “Kehinde,” she called. “Illusion!” The boy blinked, and suddenly, there were ten, twenty, thirty Taiwos all around the mountain, moving in a scattered manner. Sango looked around, confused, unable to determine which was the real one. And for her last act of cultivation, Chidera took out the last two tools from her repertoire: Nephele’s cloud and Ananse’s web. She wove both together to form a length of binding rope so strong it could not be split even by the sharpest of axes. Then she turned it into a lasso, circled it high above her head, and tossed it in the direction of Ṣango. The rope circled around the god and held him tight. His axe fell from his hand, and the light in his eyes went out. He fell to his knees and sat on the ground.
The Neverending Storm above them began to diminish and die. Soon, all trace of the dark angry clouds was gone, and all that was left was three bottomless gourds now refilled, and one very angry but quite immobile lightning god. * When the four heroes came down the mountain, three bottomless gourds in hand, all the messengers who had helped them were there. Elegba the owl, Ananse the spider, Akata the jackal and Ijapa the tortoise. “Well done,” said the tortoise. “I knew you could do it. We all believed in you.” “Yet you all spoke in riddles,” said Chidera. “Some belief.” “Pardon us—that is just the way of the messenger,” said Ijapa. “Come, let us each take these bottomless gourds and return them to the rightful owners. That is what we are best at, isn’t it? Errands?” With that, each messenger took the gourd relative to the god whom they had helped the heroes with—Ananse for Shu’s wind, Akata for Nephele’s clouds and Ijapa for Perun’s rains. They also handed back the items they’d been given for aid: the lightning stick, the cloud, the light. Elegba was left to take them back to the crossroads. “What now?” asked Salisu. “Aye is saved,” said the owl. “You may go back to living your lives.” “That’s it?” asked Taiwo. “No reward?” “Oh there is the reward of the whole of your world forever being in your debt, even if they don’t know it,” said Elegba. “Also, something else. But first, you must solve a riddle. Would you like to hear it?” “No!” all four chorused at once. They had arrived at the Iroko tree at the crossroads. The owl opened the same entryway through which they had come. “If I may tell you this,” said Elegba. “A hero is always a hero, and a demigod never stops being a demigod. Whatever you have gained here—knowledge or power—it will remain with you forever.” “You mean,” said Kehinde, “we will have magic?” “Will I make lightning?” asked Salisu.
“Will we have a light to lead us?” asked Taiwo. “And a cloud to protect us?” asked Chidera. Elegba only smiled, and the entryway shut, and the four heroes were back in the sunshine of Aye. As they turned around, bade one another goodbye—till we meet again—and began their long journeys back to their respective communities, three things stirred in the distance. A cloud separated in the firmament and began to follow each hero. Within each cloud was a warm light, bright enough to guide the way. And within each light was a spark of lightning, a warning to all who saw, that these were heroes under the protection of gods, and so forever they would remain. THE END
Notes Characters & Locales ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ● ●
Aye (real world, literal meaning “life”) Ijapa, the Great Herald (tortoise, messenger) Elegba (owl, messenger) Ananse, the trickster (spider, messenger) Akata (jackal, messenger) Ẹkun (tiger, messenger) Mẹta Lo Kan (title for the hero-demigods of Aye, meaning “three-in-one”) Chidera (hero, tinkerer) Salisu (hero, diviner) Taiwo (hero, strong & dexterous) Kehinde (hero, illusionist) Shu (Egyptian god of winds and light) Nephele (Greek cloud deity) Perun (Slavic god of sky, thunder, lightning, storms & rain) Ṣango (Yoruba god of thunder and lightning) Iṣawuru (a waterfall in Underland) Underland (the land of gods, spirits and monsters) Crossroads (portal points between Aye & Underland)