Episode 8 – ÌRÒHÙN ÒJÚ ÒRUN (The Message From Above)

Written by SpecialMide

Ayàndá stepped out of Ìfẹ́tọ́lá’s hut just as the first streaks of dawn cut across the sky like a divine signature. The forest around Asakoko outskirts was quiet — too quiet — the kind of silence that either means peace or trouble loading. His body still ached, but his mind? Sharper than ever.

Ìfẹ́tọ́lá came out behind him, carrying a small calabash marked with old runes.

“Take this,” she said, voice soft but loaded with authority. “When the time comes, it will guide you. But you must listen to what your spirit says.”

Ayàndá frowned. “Kí ni ó wà níbẹ̀?”

She smiled. “Not what… who.”

No explanation. Typical mysterious-lady behavior.

Before Ayàndá could ask another question, the wind shifted. Trees rustled without reason. The sky dimmed even though the sun had barely risen. Then it hit him — that same strange pull he’d felt since childhood, the one he always ignored because it made no sense.

His heartbeat synced with the movement of the air.

The world around him blurred.

A soft hum echoed in his head.

Suddenly—

A bright flash.

A vision slammed into him like lightning.

He saw a massive city, roads paved like mirrors, lights everywhere. Tall buildings. Cars. People rushing. And then — a mansion with golden gates. A family. A woman crying. A man pacing. A symbol on the gate: GBADEBO.

Ayàndá gasped and stumbled back, grabbing his head.

Ìfẹ́tọ́lá didn’t look surprised at all.

“Ó ti bẹ̀rẹ̀,” she whispered. “The truth is calling you.”

Ayàndá steadied himself, chest rising and falling fast. “Those people… I know them… but I don’t know them.”

“That’s because they’re part of the life you never lived.”

She walked closer, her eyes piercing straight into him.

“Ayàndá, you were never meant to die in this forest. You were hidden. Protected. But the ones searching for you? They’re getting closer. And not everyone wants you alive.”

Ayàndá clenched his jaw. “Tell me who I am.”

Ìfẹ́tọ́lá hesitated — then pointed toward the rising sun.

“Go to Aragbanla first. What you seek is not in the city yet. Talk to the one who raised you. Alábá knows more than he ever said.”

Ayàndá looked at the road ahead, heart pounding with a mix of fear and destiny.

“Then I’ll face him,” he said. “And whatever comes next.”

As he turned to leave, Ìfẹ́tọ́lá called out one last time:

“Ayàndá… whatever you discover, remember — not all blood is family, and not all family carries blood. Choose your path wisely.”

Ayàndá nodded once, tightened the straps of his hunting bag, and walked into the forest path — not as a confused survivor anymore, but as a young man stepping into destiny.