Child of god | book 1 ✅

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Kwento could not believe it. That Micheal, his only friend whom he shared all secrets with, went behind his back to drug him, could not compare to any other type of pain in this world.

For the first time in his life, he felt like getting drunk. He felt like chugging all the wine in the world just to forget. Now he understood how Magdalene felt, he could never understand alcoholics better.

Rice Highway passed by in a blur. Building upon buildings, fashion accessories, stores and entertainment locations. He conjured it, the feeling of excitement he usually had anytime he even so much as thought of visiting this place. A feeling which would soon turn to history.

The stench of the bismuthic rice overpowered that of the wine, the sun battered road appeared gloomy. Everything seemed to be taking on the appearance of his heart.

Over and over again, Michael’s face played up in his mind. The smiles and laugh shared over sight-seeing and conversing. His friend’s plea was like a record tape on replay.

How could you Michael? How could you?

The answer to the question, he may never know.

Finally he appeared in the domain and the cab stopped him right in front of the entrance.

He did not even bother greeting Onye nche who stood as tall as ever. But Onye nche nodded, his means of greeting. He had always been taciturn.  Inside the big castle, he located his room and right there, he knew that he was free to unveil his feelings.

Things tumbled, ceramics broke. Despite the crashing sounds that filled the room, the void in his heart remained.

How could you do this Michael? How could you?

After pacing the length of his room, he seemed to come to a decision. He planned to punish him. 1500 years in the prison was not just beans and the fact that the traitor was even trying to calm him down despite the troubles he was facing at work because of him and what he caused, nothing could ever beat that.

Micheal must not go Scott free.

With the anger within him, Kwento trekked to the throne room.

Even his altruism could not calm him this time.

*****

The throne room was as he remembered, throne made of gold and cinders and its floor of polished marble.

“Onye ndu,” Kwento called. “I’ve come to see you.”

Unlike the other time when he had been accompanied by the SOCs, Here he was about to send someone to them. What an irony!

A whizzing sound filled the air, and the room suddenly overpowered by a musky and earthy smell, felt constricting due to the presence of the leader of the gods.

“God of the innocent, may I ask why?” Onye ndu said with a smile, staring down at Kwento from high up in his throne.

“”I was wrongly prosecuted one thousand five hundred years ago,” Kwento said, eyes up.

“Go on,” Onye ndu ordered. His dreads bouncing as he spoke.

“If you remember correctly Onye ndu, I was dragged here by the SOCs 1500 years ago under the guise of having gotten drunk on the job and exposing my godly form to the children of the world. May I happily present the name of the person who made that possible by drugging me?”

“You mean that someone framed you?” Onye ndu rephrased and Kwento nodded. “Who could that be?” Onye ndu asked, relaxing his hands on both arms of his throne, voice as gravelly as ever and eyes narrowed inferentially.