Wind howled furiously long before she emerged into world with a loud angry roar not a soft gentle whisper. It violently shook leaves on an ancient gnarled Iroko tree. It knocked over clay pots haphazardly amidst vendors loudly hawking their wares in market stalls under bright sunlight. Darkness carried smell of storm and something far eerier namely scent of ash and freshly spilled blood heavily. Wind pushed through a narrow window in Nnenna's tiny clay-walled room dancing frenetically around kerosene lantern making shadows twist unnaturally very quickly. Sweat was wiped from Nnenna's brow by the midwife whose hands shook violently."Push, my daughter," the midwife said in Igbo, her voice hoarse with urgency. "Push, before the sky breaks open."
Nnenna's scream filled the hut. Push my daughter the midwife barked loudly in Igbo with a voice roughened by desperate urgency. Nnenna's scream filled hut suddenly before dark sky broke open with loud rumble and frightening flash of electric blue light. Her legs trembled violently underneath her. Her hands grasped palm mat beneath her quite tightly. Just as lightning rent asunder darkening sky and thunder boomed loudly over Umuaka village a small child suddenly emerged fully formed. Suddenly wind ceased blowing quite inexplicably. Deafening stillness hung heavily over everything. Silence hangs heavily around them now somehow. Baby remained remarkably silent. Midwife's eyes locked onto child as she held breath in throat, checking quietly. Some girl stood there quietly. Still dark-skinned and pretty small. She saw it then quite suddenly — a nasty gash or possibly a scar above his left eyebrow known as the mark."O… Chineke," she gasped, crossing herself in fear. "This child… this child is not ordinary."
But the baby opened her eyes — wide, bright, not like a newborn's at all — and she smiled.
Faint yet unmistakable spiral curled across baby's chest like burnt shadow lurking just beneath fragile translucent skin. Midwife staggered back awkwardly.---
Fifteen years later, Awele stood barefoot in the rain, facing the same Iroko tree.
She gasped O Chineke crossing herself rapidly in abject fear. This kid is freakish.
Baby girl snapped her peepers open wide unusually bright not at all like most newborns and flashed a sly grin. Lantern shattered suddenly on its own accord with loud noise at that precise moment. Outside every rooster in village let out a deafening scream simultaneously and birds flapped their wings wildly in nearby trees. Fifteen years later Awele stood barefoot in rain facing same gnarled Iroko tree under grey skies with water pouring down heavily. She hadn't a clue but this tree had swayed vigorously on her birthday. Water trickled slowly down her arms and soaked her thin cotton wrapper but she remained perfectly still. Her gaze stayed fixed on tree bark partly because she spotted something peculiar lurking within its rugged surface texture. A rather gaunt face loomed menacingly beneath dark eyebrows. A feeling of dizziness washed over me suddenly and darkness crept in stealthily from edges of my vision quite rapidly. Extremely old relics were unearthed quietly beneath ancient structures. She sat quietly watching intently. She blinked quite slowly once beneath flickering fluorescent lights overhead.> "You are not ready."
Awele's heart pounded as she ran.
It happened twice under rather unusual circumstances. Suddenly it vanished utterly. She turned swiftly and strode away her feet slapping loudly against red mud path beneath her rapidly becoming sodden.---
Everyone in Umuaka village knew Awele — but not in the way people knew neighbors or family.
Her voice had strangely returned with muted intensity. A soft female voice old as wind and stone reverberated from deep inside her head."She doesn't greet," one woman would mutter.
"She walks at night," said another.
"I saw her talking to a dead tree," said a boy once, his voice filled with fear.
Awele's heart pounded furiously as she sprinted quickly away hearing stern words echoing loudly "You aren't ready."Ready for precisely what not? She was utterly clueless. She remained clueless somehow. Folks in Umuaka village were familiar with Awele but not exactly like they knew their next-door neighbors or blood relatives. Strange winds and odd smells were known instinctively alongside unease inside her presence somehow quite eerily without needing much explanation really.---
Her grandmother, Mama Nnenna, had raised her after her mother disappeared. People murmured sotto voce as she strode by nearby suddenly. One woman would often mutter under her breath that she just doesn't bother greeting anybody. Another guy said she prowls around pretty late under cover of darkness. A boy once said with fearful voice I saw her talking to a dead tree."She walked into the spirit world," Nnenna would say. "Some blood calls to it too strongly."
Awele had asked once, "Did she leave because of me?"
Nnenna had paused, placed a palm on her chest, and said, "Your mother loved you more than her own breath. They didn't know tree had answered her quietly somehow. Not in words but deeply etched in fragmented memories. Through utterly bewildering sensations rather quietly. Pulses erupt with fervor beneath language somehow eerily.---
That evening, Awele sat on the floor of the hut, grinding dried bitterleaf with a stone mortar, pretending to focus, while her mind raced with questions.
Awele spoke sparingly but listened intently with rapt attention and utmost care in silence. Lately everything surrounding her had been yapping loudly and fervently even wind whispered weirdly through desolate trees nearby. Mama Nnenna her grandmother had raised her vigorously after her mother vanished somewhat mysteriously many years before then. Vanished utterly without a discernible trace and not actually dead. Awele's mother had vanished into forest behind their compound one morning when she was barely two years old. A search party never found her anywhere. Not a single seer could discern her trajectory somehow. Nnenna would say she transitioned rather quietly into a realm eerily described as spirit world. Awele had asked once if she left because of him.
Nnenna paused then placed a palm squarely on her chest and said your mother loved you more dearly than her own life.
Some blood resonates with it extremely strongly. Awele never asked again. You child are weirdly marked by both obscure worlds. She attempted rather desperately every single day being totally invisible. Mirrors cracked menacingly around you yet somehow you managed to stay hidden in plain sight eerily unaffected.---
There was a knock at the door.
Strangers murmured your name in slumber quite vividly under starless skies. Awele sat on a hut floor that evening grinding dried bitterleaf vigorously with a worn stone mortar and her mind wandered. Voice grew remarkably stronger now beneath bright lights. Visions became eerily more vivid underneath flickering fluorescent lights. She heard drumming beneath her skin occasionally haunting beats echoed deeply within her very being with mystifying resonance and primal fervor. Dark spiral markings on her chest seemed a perpetual presence. Nnenna once divulged that it was known as Okirikiri Ndu a rather enigmatic Spiral of Life allegedly steeped in mystique. An archaic symbol lingered quietly from way back before missionaries arrived with haste in that forsaken place. Way back in pre-ecclesiastical eras obviously."You look like a drowned spirit," she said.
"I missed your insults," he said. "Let me in before I melt."
She stepped aside.
Scriptures were laboriously copied by hand before paper Bibles became available slowly over time in monasteries and other scriptoriums. In those bygone days children born bearing this peculiar mark were rigorously trained secretly by elders."I brought something," he said, pulling out a folded cloth from his satchel. She was schooled in traversing vastly disparate realities with uneasy elegance."What is it?"
"Found it near the sacred grove," he whispered. "Under the roots of a tree. Not now. Awele shivered quite violently after touching mark with trembling fingers."Okay! Someone knocked loudly on door. Quite a brutal one apparently. Quite unyielding stubbornness was exhibited.> "You have seven days."
She dropped the stone.
"What? Quite rhythmically everything sways with fervent energy somehow."I…" she paused, staring at her trembling hands.
Three rhythmic beats echo loudly underneath