The Eyes Of Death Chronicles: Young Masters

I am about to tell you a story. A story so bizarre, so near impossible that it seems like a dream born of madness. Yet every word of it is true. It is a tale of love, betrayal, power, and vengeance. Centuries ago, in a time when kings were gods among men and kingdoms rose and fell with the whims of royal decree, the Nigerian city of Lagos stood proud and prosperous. Its king, old and frail, neared his final breath. On his deathbed, the king summoned his only son and heir, Crown Prince Adekanbi Omolade, and gave him a directive that would shape the fate of kingdoms. “You must marry Adebisi Oriade, princess of Ogun,” the king rasped. “This union will bind our lands, and Lagos shall remain the center of power. It is the only way our dynasty will rule for centuries to come.” The young prince bowed his head in respect, though his heart was heavy with doubt. Adebisi was a woman of legendary beauty and wisdom, but their union would not be born of love, it would be one of duty. Nevertheless, the prince obeyed. The wedding was a spectacle of grandeur. Nobles and commoners alike celebrated the unification of Lagos and Ogun under one banner. Adekanbi and Adebisi ruled as king and queen with mutual respect, fostering peace and prosperity for seven years. But as the years passed, the royal couple remained childless. Whispers began to stir in the palace corridors and among the people. A king without an heir was a king with a precarious legacy. Desperation took root in Adekanbi’s heart. One fateful evening, he turned to Adebisi, his voice heavy with both regret and resolve. “My queen, I must take another wife. The future of our kingdom depends on it.” Adebisi’s heart ached, but her love for her husband and her kingdom outweighed her pride. She smiled faintly and nodded. “If this is what you believe must be done, my king, you have my blessing.” Unbeknownst to them, destiny had already begun its work. Adebisi was two weeks and four days pregnant at the time of their conversation—a secret even she did not yet know. Soon, Adekanbi wed a new wife, Omolewa, a woman of striking beauty and cunning mind. Within two months, she too was with child. The kingdom rejoiced, and Adekanbi’s worries seemed to fade. Nine months later, Adebisi gave birth to a daughter. But joy turned to sorrow when the child was born with autism, a condition misunderstood and feared in that era. Adekanbi concealed his disappointment behind a mask of stoicism, but his actions betrayed him. He did not name the child, call for celebrations, or even look upon her. It was Adebisi who named the girl Adelola—a name meaning “crown of wealth.” Though her husband had turned away, Adebisi poured all her love into her daughter. Nine weeks later, Omolewa bore a son. Adekanbi was overjoyed. The kingdom erupted in celebration, and the boy was named Adekanbi III in honor of his father. As the years passed, the balance of power within the palace shifted. Omolewa, cunning and manipulative, worked tirelessly to secure her place as Adekanbi’s favored queen. Adebisi, though still respected, found herself increasingly isolated. But Adebisi’s patience and kindness were her undoing. One fateful night, she stumbled upon a secret that would shatter her world. She had spent the night with the king, discussing matters of state and rekindling a fleeting warmth between them. At dawn, she decided to visit Omolewa’s chambers to address an issue with the kingdom’s trade routes. As she approached the door, she heard muffled moans. Her heart sank. With a master key in hand, she opened the door. What she saw made her blood run cold: Omolewa in bed with Adekanbi’s uncle, Adewale. Adebisi’s hands trembled, but she composed herself. She ordered the leader of her queen’s guard to escort Adewale back to his chambers and vowed to keep Omolewa’s secret. “I will not destroy this family,” she whispered, her voice steady. “But do not mistake my kindness for weakness.” Rather than gratitude, Omolewa was filled with fear and rage. Adebisi’s mercy was a blade hanging over her head. She resolved to strike first. Omolewa summoned Adebisi’s maids and guards, threatening their lives and the lives of their loved ones. Under duress, they agreed to falsely accuse Adebisi of a******y with the leader of her queen’s guard. The accusation was swift and brutal. Omolewa convened the king’s council, presenting her fabricated evidence and witnesses. Adebisi was summoned and given a chance to defend herself, but the deck was stacked against her. Desperate, she told the truth about Omolewa and Adewale’s affair. But without evidence or allies, her words fell on deaf ears. The king, torn between love and duty, sentenced the queen’s guard to death and banished Adebisi and her daughter from the kingdom. His voice broke as he spoke the final decree. “You are never to return to Lagos or Ogun. May the gods have mercy on your soul.” As Adebisi and Adelola were forced out of the palace, tears streamed down her face. Her heart was heavy with grief, but it hardened with every step she took. By the time they reached the outskirts of the kingdom, Adebisi had made a vow. “I will return,” she whispered, her voice laced with venom. “No matter what it takes.” There was only one place to go, to the God of Death. Only he, Azarailus, could give her the power to grant justice. But reaching Azarailus was no simple feat; it required a journey so perilous that even the most hardened warriors dared not attempt it. Adebisi knew the risks, but desperation fueled her resolve. She would face the impossible for the sake of her daughter and her stolen honor. The path to Azarailus lay beyond the Shadowed Peaks, a cursed range where daylight never pierced the gloom. The journey began with a seven-day trek through the Poisoned Forest, where the air was thick with toxic mists. Adebisi wrapped herself and her child in cloth soaked in crushed mint leaves, a remedy she learned from her mother. Each step was a battle, but they pressed on. Emerging from the forest, they encountered the Whispering Sands—a desert where the wind carried voices that lured travelers to their doom. Adebisi filled her ears with wax and whispered soothing words to Adelola, whose small hands clung to her tightly. At last, they reached the Gates of Despair, a massive obsidian arch marking the threshold of the God of Death’s domain. There, Adebisi fell to her knees, her voice hoarse yet unwavering. “Azarailus, hear me! Grant me justice, and I will give you whatever you desire!” The winds stilled, and the earth trembled as a deep voice resonated from the void. “Enter, mortal, if you dare.”, it was a Steward, she has reached the God of Death, a fate most people would rather avoid but she wanted the God of DEATH…………………