CHAPTER 16 – The Choice
391 Words
The Door towered before them, humming softly, its carvings alive with ancient light. Ayotunde and Kehinde stood just beyond its reach, the air around them vibrating with unspoken power.
Ayotunde felt the pressure in her chest—like the weight of generations pressed against her lungs.
The Door whispered again.
“One remembers. One must choose.”
Kehinde stepped forward first. “What does that mean? Choose what?”
Ayotunde’s eyes didn’t leave the door. “It’s testing us.”
Their glowing arm-marks pulsed in response. Kehinde’s red flame curled and flickered wildly. Ayotunde’s white glow shimmered, steady and soft like moonlight.
She took a step forward and suddenly—
The cavern changed.
Kehinde disappeared from her side.
The floor beneath her cracked open, and she fell—straight into light.
---
She landed in the courtyard of the temple—but it wasn’t ruined.
It was alive, bustling with people in flowing robes, music in the air, and drums echoing in rhythm with the stars above.
She gasped.
“Is this... the past?”
A voice beside her answered.
“No. This is the moment you chose the world over him.”
Ayotunde turned.
And there stood herself.
But older. Dressed in ceremonial robes, eyes filled with tears and fire. The High Guardian of Eri Ife.
“You made the vow alone,” the other Ayotunde said. “He wasn’t ready. So you sealed him too.”
Ayotunde’s heart dropped. “I... I didn’t mean to—”
“But you did.”
The world blurred. The vision shattered.
---
She awoke back in the cavern, gasping, to find Kehinde kneeling before the door, his expression blank. Silent tears ran down his cheeks.
“I saw it too,” he whispered. “I saw the day we were torn apart.”
Ayotunde dropped beside him. “And?”
He looked at her, eyes fierce and soft all at once.
“I choose you.”
The Door groaned—ancient stone shifting. The symbols flashed violently.
A c***k appeared down its center.
Ayotunde looked up in horror. “Wait. That’s not—”
But it was too late.
The Door opened.
Just a little.
And through the c***k came a sigh—soft, slow, and chilling.
Like something that had been asleep for too long was finally stretching.
Something remembered them.
- Writer
