A TALE OF THE WIND!!!

Inception!!!
I never tell my story; even now it is not told. This is but a whisper into the portals of time, a silence breezed through the winking of the sky, a mutter ramming bye the bliss of oracles and a blathering tale of the wind; the testimony of my existence, Oya, the striking lightning before the rumbles of deafening thunder.
I was Oya before you, Sango. I was the storm that blew on the icy windy eve of creation, the wind that travelled the world when darkness was roundabout the universe and the spirit of Olodumare was but a movement on still water. I was, before time tickled, before the unraveling of cloud and space, before the wind of the ocean drew the first of its breaths.
I had lived without a soul before you were breathed into existence, for in my spirit I was the wind before your fire, the looming in the sky before your rain and the lightning before your thundering thunder, but in my existence; I was a goddess made for a god, the bride that never bore you a soul. The mystery of our story was to be lost in eternity; left as a whisper in the annals of time.

The time is lost in the track of time, for then there was no time. Light and darkness were not distinguished but embedded in shades and rays, in mysterious reflection of higher beings. And the earth, the sky and all its bodies were mere conception in the mind of the creator. The water was icy and still and the breeze breathed in silence; silence was noisy, and echoes were lost in eternal shrill. Only the eternal spirit of Olodumare moves on water before his first four oracles were breathed into existence. Orunmila, to be his priest; the one who listens to his heart and the hearts of subsequent beings, Oduduwa, Ogun and Sango; the oracles and definer of the earth to be. 
They stood before the staff of authority of Olodumare, for the most high was never to be seen. Orunmila invoked the heart of the eternal one and was commanded to ask the trio to choose a destiny, for their lives would be the compass of creation and subsequent beings would form their destinies in theirs.
Oduduwa knelt before the staff with his gentle frame and slender marrows, before the invisible presence of Olodumare and spoke out his choice. The first voice before creation altered the usual shrill and the sound thrills the wind on the icy sea. ‘Olodumare, the king and maker of all that be and would be; the one who sees but cannot be seen. My choice is but a simple one; to be a king and the father of all that would be in your likeness, to live and die, only but a king.’
Ogun knelt beside him with a shield at his chest and metal roundabout his head, his eyes sparkled with red and he spoke hurriedly without courtesies. ‘I want to be a god, to be revered and worshiped as one from you, to live and die but live forever, and to be powerful. I want to be the god of all wars, battles and metals; the god of all that could spill blood from mortals.’
Sango was gentle, but his mildness bore a slightness of seeming danger; he was bare without character and his personalities seemed far from his physicality. He moved rhythmically on the snowy sea with his head bow, his eyes were lost in the frozen dew, dropping in timeless successions as he spoke softly in tunes. He merely chose to live and be awarded a life full of choices, to explore the earth and only be limited by his own end; in his choices he begged for choices. He had chosen to be a man.
Somewhere in the shadows of the frozen sea and snowy dew, Esu seemed to have witnessed all the processions. He must have been breathed out before or after the oracles. His presence was a mystery lost in eternity.
For Oduduwa, the sea was commanded to be a bride. Olokun stood fair in the colors of water and made to form in the opposite of man; her nature was of beauty and her saunter was of wonder. Oduduwa and Olokun were to be the ancestors of all men and they walked hand in hand into the new world. Thus the sea was allowed to unfreeze as it was now the bride of the king and the mother of all men that would be born. And the sea flow endlessly into the dawn of time.
The wind was settled by the creator and I was made a bride for Ogun. I, Oya, the shrill of the firmament and the mild rumble in the icy dew became a bride of the oracle and a wife to the god of iron and battles. The cloud rumbled as I was formed, and I breathed my peace into the new world with lightning before I became a woman. In my new form, I watched you Sango as you disappeared into eternity, for you must wait to be born. In the strong hand of Ogun as his bride, your personality was the first wonder I knew, your voice was the first music that was ever heard.

TIME!!!
After a seeming century, Sango was begat as a prince to Oranmiyan in the province of Oyo where he later became a king. He was charming beyond the flairs of all the men of his generation, his shoulders were built broadly and his arms were formed with potent muscles; he grew in likes of a giant and became a master of all skills. His voice was of melodious tunes and his legs were shaped to balance with the rhythmic movements of all dances. Sango was strong and undefeated in battle, his angelic voice was the marvel of all mortals and his dancing skill was excellent; beyond the praises of a poet. He was a god in likeness of man.
Every king must find a suitable bride; one that would grace his palace with magnificence and fill his courts with the aura of her splendor. But Sango couldn’t find one so pleasant among the damsels of his time; he sought the temple of Ogun for the affection of his goddess wife.

I remember the day you came for me, the movements with which you ambled into my temple. Your movements were vaguely precise, moving in successions beyond the comprehension of a goddess. I remember your form before inception but you looked more glorious, and the smiles that embroidered your face were what I had longed for in eternity. I had hoped for you Sango before you thought of me.
You had chosen the time carefully, for you came when Ogun had gone to oversee one of the ceaseless wars among men. You came with servants, bearing agate beads and sacrifices for my temple and you dazzled my temple with great movements. Before you spoke I had seen your thoughts, I had known the impossibility you were about to wish for, but I waited for your utterances; I waited for the music I had known before time.
‘Oya,’ you called my name and it rang in tunes beyond eternity. The echo of your voice rammed about my temple and tickled my anal, but I waited for more; I waited to hear you plead for my affection.
Did you know that I could hear your thoughts, did you know Sango, that I knew everything you had planned to say immediately you stepped your feet into my temples? For instead of uttering, you summoned your drummers and started a merry in my temple. You summoned me with you movements and I was lost within myself. You movements untangled my invisibility.

Sango danced for hours before the temple of Oya. His drummers were tired but he made them to magnify the tempo of their beats. When his vigor was waned and his marrows began to creak, he reduced the rhythm of his movements to form a plea and summoned the goddess into a tango; he begged Oya to dance with him, right beside his masculinity.
Oya suddenly appeared in his arms and...

To be continued...
Written by Oluwafemi Oladipupo