MY PEN SPEAKS

EVERY FRIDAY 10AM.

Episode 7

          Her scent still lingered around him. It had been a splendid night, but he'd spent most of the morning mulling over what he had to do. He had no apprehension going on with his plan, but now, all he thought of was her. But the more he thought, the more he realized he had to protect her. They were coming for him, and that would not mind going through and over a High Council member. That would kill Rose in a blink, and then him, but not if he did this. And he had to act now.

          The resurrection ritual was his only option. "Onye si N'onwu kunie", he sampled the words on his tongue.  He wasn't sure it would work, he'd never seen it work, but he had no choice. It was an ancient ritual he learnt while still in his home city, he never thought he would need it. But now, it was his only choice. A fundamental part of it was that they loved each other enough for the bond to hold. He knew he did. But for her? He just had to trust that she did too.

          "Rose?" he spoke softly so add not to startle her. She woke up smiling.

          "Hey" she saw the worry on his face and her smile faded. "What's wrong? "

          "There's something we need to do, and fast. Follow me. "

          He led her into the living room and watched as her expression changed from worry to total horror. He'd expected that. Along with the items for the meal, he'd slid in some things he needed for the ritual. All over the room were markings and runes. Feathers hung from some corners, horns hung at others and right in the middle of the room was a chicken, squawking it's last.

          "Emeka, what's all this?" she questioned in a quavering voice.

          "It's a ritual I must do. Not just for me, but also for you, to protect you."

          "Why? How? " He could almost see her thoughts flying haphazardly in all directions.

          "Just trust me. Now when I tell you to, I need you to drink this" he said, while placing a small cup of the concoction he'd brewed in her hands. "Please, no matter what, you must promise to drink this, or else, we both could die."

          "Why? Could you just please explain?" He could see teardrops begin to fall from her eyes. He didn't want this. Not one bit, but he really had no choice. He put his hand tenderly to clean her tears, and kissed her longingly. One last time, he thought to himself. He pulled himself from her and began chanting. Smoothly wording each phrase of the incantations. The air became charged and he knew she felt it too. Quite suddenly all the things in the room began to rise. The furniture, even the very sand grains were head high in the air. He then took a stone knife and plunged it deep in his chest, while yelling "Now Rose! Drink it now! ".

          He saw in her eyes, fear of what would happen if she drank it, dread of what would happen if she didn't. He got weaker as life left him but struggled on, pleading her with his eyes. He watched her finally drink it before slipping from the land of the living, and then, everything went dark. 

Victory Okoyomoh, pen name - Victory Wrights is an Optometry Student at the University of Benin. A writer,  both prose and poetry, his works have been published in some anthologies and other websites.  He also run an instagram poetry account - @victory_wrights

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