Chapter 2
840 Words
ADAORA’S POV
Adaora didn’t remember falling asleep.
One moment she was lying on her thin mattress, staring at the ceiling as the rain outside softened into a distant hiss…
and the next, she was standing in a wide, foggy road she did not recognize.
The sky above her was pitch-black, but a faint blue glow pulsed far ahead, like a lantern swinging in the hands of someone she couldn’t see.
Then she heard it.
The bell rang.
Soft. Slow. Clear.
DING…
DING…
Her heartbeat responded instantly too fast, too loud.
MAMA’S VOICE (echoing faintly):
Adaora…
Adaora turned sharply, searching.
The fog curled around her legs like living smoke.
Mama?
No answer. Only the bell.
She took a step forward.
And then another.
Something warm touched her wrist,
Her mother’s bracelet.
The one she had kept locked in a drawer since the funeral.
It glowed faintly against her skin.
Adaora stumbled back, shaking.
“No… this is a dream. It’s only a dream.”
But the bell rang again, louder this time.
DING,
Her eyes snapped open.
She was back in her room.
Her heart hammered.
The room was silent except for
DING.
Adaora bolted upright.
The sound wasn’t in her head.
It was outside.
She ran to the window and threw it open. Cold air rushed against her face.
Nothing moved outside.
No people.
No cars.
Just the faint glow barely visible near the outskirts of town.
The same blue glow she’d seen in her dream.
Her legs moved before her mind decided anything. She grabbed a shawl, wrapped it around herself, and stepped quietly into the corridor.
Chikwudi’s door was closed. His soft snoring drifted out.
She shouldn’t wake him.
If she did, he’d never let her out.
And something—something deep, instinctive told her she had to go alone.
She slipped out of the house.
The night air smelled of soaked earth and something else…
Something metallic.
Something old.
Her sandals slapped softly against the wet ground as she walked past dark houses, empty streets, the quiet junction where gossip usually lived.
The glow grew brighter.
At the edge of town, where farms stretched into shadow, Adaora stopped.
Her breath caught.
There…where there was usually nothing but tall grass and red dirt now stood an archway made of wood and lanterns that burned blue.
On the arch were words carved in a language she didn’t know.
But the meaning pulsed inside her skull anyway: THE MARKET BEFORE DAWN. She felt a presence behind her and spun quickly.
Nothing.
The wind whispered through the grass.
Then…
A voice. Soft. Familiar.
MAMA (whispering)
Adaora… keep going.
Her knees weakened.
Mama… if you’re really here…
The wind died.
Silence pressed around her.
Her mother did not speak again.
But the blue lanterns flickered like they were waiting.
Adaora stepped toward the archway.
Her hand trembled as she reached out and touched the wooden beam.
Instantly the world shifted.
The air grew thicker.
The sky darkened.
The sound of quiet murmurs began dozens of voices, maybe hundreds..overlapping like a restless crowd.
Adaora stepped through the arch.
And the market unfolded before her.
Rows and rows of glowing stalls lined a narrow, winding path.
Lanterns hung above.
Shadows drifted between the stalls, whispering, bargaining in voices that sounded too broken to be fully human.
Adaora took one shaky breath.
No turning back now.
A figure moved in the corner of her vision.
She turned to see a tall vendor standing behind the nearest stall…
But where a face should’ve been…
Nothing.
Just a moving shadow.
It lifted its head and spoke in a hollow, echoing voice.
Welcome, Adaora Nkem…
Her blood ran cold.
H-How do you know my name?
We know the names of all who carry burdens too heavy for dawn.
Adaora stepped back.
But a hand… Not a solid one, more like smoke extended toward her.
Tell us, the faceless vendor whispered,
What pain do you bring to trade tonight?
Adaora swallowed hard.
Her voice shook.
I… I didn’t come to trade anything.
The vendor tilted its shadowy head.
Then why are you here?
Adaora hesitated.
The truth rose in her throat before she could stop it.
To ask about my mother.
The murmurs in the market grew louder.
The lanterns above flickered violently, as if something powerful had heard her name.
The vendor leaned closer.
Ah… yes.
Adaora’s breath caught.
What do you mean yes?
The faceless figure lifted a small wooden box from beneath the stall.
It set it gently on the counter.
The box pulsed with a faint glow.
Your mother, the vendor said,
was here long before you.
Adaora’s knees threatened to give way.
W-What? When?
When you were still small enough to fit into her arms.
A pause.
She came to trade something precious… for you.
Adaora’s heart stopped.
The vendor slid the box toward her.
Would you like to see what she left behind?
Her fingers trembled over the lid.
She hadn’t even opened the box…
And already, Adaora felt her entire world tilting.
- Writer
