Ayàndá – The Child of Destiny

Written by SpecialMide

The moment the calabash cracked open, the world didn’t just shake—

it screamed.

A beam of blinding golden-white light shot through Alábá’s hut roof, tearing it open like dry cloth. Wind roared in circles around Ayàndá, pushing everything away. Mats flew. Pots shattered. Alábá himself was thrown against the wall.

Ayàndá couldn’t move.

His feet were locked to the ground as if invisible chains held him.

The calabash floated before him, rotating slowly, light pouring out like a newborn sun learning how to shine.

“Ayàndá! AYÀNDÁ! ṢÓ GBỌ́ MI?!”

Alábá’s voice cracked with terror.

But Ayàndá didn’t hear him.

Something older… deeper… was calling.

A voice without sound.

A language without words.

“Ọmọ ayanmọ̀… ìpinnu ti dé.”

Child of destiny… the moment has come.

Ayàndá gasped as the air folded around him.

The hut vanished.

The ground cracked.

Darkness swallowed everything—

—then SPAT him out into another world.

---

THE SPIRIT REALM

Ayàndá landed on something that wasn’t earth. It was smoke… yet solid. He stood in a massive open space filled with swirling mist that glowed faintly like moonfire.

Shapes moved within the fog.

Huge shapes.

Footsteps shook the air— THOOM… THOOM… THOOM…

Ayàndá squinted… and froze.

Towering beings, twenty times the size of men, shaped like shadows carved from living smoke, walked slowly around him. Their bodies flowed like water but held the weight of mountains.

Some had horns.

Some had multiple arms.

Some had faces made of flame.

Others had no faces at all.

They were ancient.

They were powerful.

They were afraid.

One stepped out from the mist behind him—a giant with burning eyes like twin suns.

It spoke, but its mouth didn’t move:

“Why has the child been released?”

Another answered from the right:

“His destiny threatens the balance. He must not awaken.”

A third voice thundered:

“He is protected. We cannot destroy him.”

Ayàndá tried to speak, but his throat felt locked.

“What… what do you want from me?”

Silence fell.

Then all the spirits bowed their heads.

Every single one.

A ripple of power shook the realm.

From behind the tallest spirit came a figure—

Not giant.

Not monstrous.

A hooded one.

Small. Human-sized.

Walking like a shadow wearing skin.

It stopped right in front of him.

Ayàndá’s breath hitched.

Even though the face was hidden, he felt warmth… familiarity.

Like standing beside a fire he knew from childhood.

The hooded spirit raised a hand.

Ayàndá’s chest glowed.

The same symbol he saw in his vision—the Gbadebo mark—lit up on his skin, shining through his clothes.

Ayàndá stumbled back. “What is happening to me?!”

The hooded one finally spoke:

“Ayàndá… you were not stolen.”

The fog swirled violently.

“You were placed.”

Placed?

Ayàndá blinked in confusion.

“Placed where?”

The hooded spirit touched his chest.

“Between realms.”

Ayàndá trembled.

“What are you saying?”

The hooded one removed the hood—

Ayàndá’s heart stopped.

What he saw was impossible.

Wrong.

Yet so painfully right.

It was a woman’s face.

Beautiful.

Strong.

Eyes glowing like living stars.

“Ayàndá…” she whispered.

“I am your mother.”

Every spirit knelt.

Ayàndá stumbled backward, knees weakening.

“My—my mother? You’re dead. They told me you died— I—”

“No,” she said softly.

“I am not of the earth. I never was.”

The realm shook again.

Far in the mist, alarms rang— booming sounds like giant drums signaling danger.

The spirits panicked.

“HE IS FOUND!”

“THE GATE WILL OPEN!”

“TAKE HIM BACK!”

Ayàndá’s mother grabbed his face with glowing hands.

“Ayàndá, listen to me. The city in your vision—your true family is there. They are searching. They have been waiting.”

He swallowed hard.

“And you? What am I to you?”

Her voice cracked with pain:

“My only child.

The one who can unite the realms.”

The ground split beneath them.

The sky tore open.

A vortex of light burst downward.

Ayàndá’s mother pushed him with both hands.

“Go back! SURVIVE! FIND THE TRUTH!”

Her voice echoed like thunder.

“And Ayàndá—trust the girl with the beads.”

Adùkẹ́.

Ayàndá reached out to grab her—

But the light swallowed him.

Sound vanished.

Gravity vanished.

His mother’s voice faded into nothingness:

“Ayanmo kò le sẹ́…”

Destiny cannot be undone.

---

BACK IN THE VILLAGE

Ayàndá crashed into the dirt outside Alábá’s broken hut, body steaming like metal pulled from fire.

Villagers screamed.

Women ran.

Children hid behind their mothers.

Alábá rushed toward him, falling to his knees.

“Ayàndá! AYÀNDÁ! Can you hear me?!”

Ayàndá opened his eyes slowly.

But they were no longer the same.

A faint golden glow flickered in his pupils.

He whispered one word:

“Mother…”

Before passing out.

And in the distance, Adùkẹ́’s beads glowed like burning suns.