Standing in the doorway of her hut, Ego watched in awe as the last sliver of sunlight slowly disappeared.
The moon crept steadily across the face of the sun until only a thin crescent of light remained. That shrinking crescent grew narrower and narrower, as though an invisible mouth were devouring the heavens themselves.
Then it happened.
The two celestial bodies aligned perfectly.
The sun vanished.
Only its pale, ghostly corona remained—a ring of silver fire suspended in the black sky.
Darkness swallowed the earth.
Not the gentle darkness of night, but something deeper...
Older.
A darkness that seemed alive.
Ego stood frozen.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The prophecy had come to pass exactly as the old woman had foretold.
The dying embers inside her hut suddenly seemed precious. She hurried to the hearth, blew life into the glowing charcoal, and lit her torch. Its small flame trembled violently, casting restless shadows across the walls.
When she stepped back to the doorway, Umudibia was no longer the village she had known only moments before.
Chaos had erupted.
The terrified screams of women pierced the unnatural silence.
Children cried uncontrollably.
Men shouted frantic orders from every direction.
People abandoned whatever they had been doing and ran desperately toward their homes.
"Aru!"
"Aru!"
The cry spread from compound to compound like wildfire.
Calamity.
That was the only explanation anyone could give.
Ego remained hidden inside her hut, clutching the torch in one hand while pacing anxiously from one end of the room to the other.
She dared not leave too soon.
To walk through the village carrying a mortar upon her head and a pestle in her hand while everyone else fled indoors would invite only one conclusion.
Witch.
No one would believe she was obeying a prophecy.
No one would believe she sought a blessing.
They would drag her before the elders—or worse, back into the dreaded Evil Forest from which she had only just escaped.
She forced herself to wait.
One minute.
Then another.
Gradually, the cries faded.
Doors slammed shut one after another.
Soon...
The village became eerily still.
She looked outside again.
The darkness had deepened until the world resembled a place abandoned by the living. The sky hung low above Umudibia like a giant black cloth ready to collapse upon the earth.
It felt as though creation itself had died.
The colors of the world had vanished.
The trees stood like black skeletons.
The paths had become rivers of shadow.
Even the air felt heavier.
From within the silence came faint sounds that carried surprisingly far—the frightened sobbing of infants, women whispering desperate prayers, men calling upon forgotten ancestors, and the scraping of wooden bolts as doors were fastened against whatever evil prowled outside.
To the people of Umudibia, the impossible had happened.
The sun had abandoned the earth.
Many believed the end of the world had arrived.
Some cried to their personal gods for mercy.
Some begged their ancestors not to forsake them.
Others, convinced that the gods themselves had perished, simply sat with their families waiting for whatever judgment was coming.
Fear had reduced even the strongest men to frightened children.
Across the fence, Ego caught sight of her wealthy neighbor, Nze Ndu.
Blessed with seven wives, many children, and enough wealth to command respect throughout Umudibia, he hurried frantically around his compound carrying the blood of a freshly slaughtered goat.
With trembling hands, he splashed the blood around the entrances to his huts, around his obi, and across the boundaries of his compound, muttering desperate incantations as he worked.
His fear was obvious.
He rushed so badly that he left entire corners untouched before abandoning the ritual altogether and fleeing indoors, slamming the heavy wooden door behind him.
After a little while...
Absolute silence descended upon Umudibia.
No footsteps.
No voices.
No crying.
Nothing.
Only the occasional crackle of distant ritual fires, where a handful of dibias remained outside, desperately invoking the gods to restore the sun.
Ego knew the moment had come.
She rested the mortar carefully upon her head and gripped the pestle firmly in one hand. The torch flickered in the other.
Standing behind her doorway, she closed her eyes and drew one slow, steady breath.
Once she stepped outside...
There would be no turning back.
No speaking.
No answering anyone.
No matter what she saw.
No matter what she heard.
She turned for one last look at the little hut she had shared with Nnanna.
Every corner held a memory.
The doorway where he used to greet her after hunting.
The hearth where they had shared countless meals.
The bamboo bed where they had whispered dreams of children who never came.
A lump formed in her throat.
How she wished he were beside her now.
His hand in hers.
His quiet courage strengthening her own.
But wishes could not rewrite fate.
With a silent prayer to her chi, Ego stepped across the threshold and disappeared into the impossible darkness.