When she looked down, she saw that she had hands and a body and her skin glowed a brilliant yellow. She was wearing a scratchy raffia dress that went to her knees. It was nearly identical to the one she’d found herself wearing when she was initiated. Was this some sort of second initiation? Or maybe she had died and this was the attire of the wilderness.

“Whatever,” she grunted as she stood up, her bare feet pressing down on the worm-like grass. “It is what it is.” She was relieved when the grass didn’t bite her. She looked ahead, then to her left and right. Nothing but miles and miles of wriggling grass. She sighed and the sound of it carried as if she were in a large room. She exhaled and her breath was a soft yellow. She didn’t want to speak; to speak would disturb the peace of this strange place. The back of her neck prickled, and the backs of her bare legs felt warm, as if she stood beside a space heater.

Slowly, she turned around. Then she pressed her hand to her chest and fought to stay on her feet. Now she did feel as if she was dying. She had seen masquerades before. She had just faced, climbed, and unmasked one of the most powerful ones. Now she felt this way because she understood that the being she was looking at was just projecting itself as a masquerade, because it was far more than one. She knew who it was but the very idea was impossible. It was impossible. So she let her eyes tell her what she saw. She was seeing one far more magnificent, infinitely more powerful and encompassing than Ekwensu could ever be.

The Unapproachable Supreme Creator of All Things. Chukwu!

And sitting beside it was a figure made of softly glowing yellow. Anyanwu.

The yellow aura wafting from Sunny’s skin grew brighter. She was trembling, her throat was dry, and her voice cracked when she spoke. “I greet you, Great Oga.”

Chukwu was the size of a large elephant. It looked like a haystack made of layers of blue, yellow, red, and green soft cloth and it had multicolored mist bubbling from the top of its head which was a four-sided ebony mask. And on each side was a curious-looking face. It didn’t look cruel or kind, and each face carried the same inquisitive expression as it scrutinized Sunny. Where it stood, dark green vines burst from the ground, stretched several feet, went limp, dried, and crumbled to dust. Yam vines swelled with large tubers that deflated, grew moldy, and finally melted back into the wriggling grass. Plants sprouted, bloomed with white flowers, dropped the flowers, fruited, and died. As Sunny stared up at the creature, her eyes dried and began to burn. She blinked and blinked, tears rolling down her cheeks. Terrified as she was, Sunny also felt fascination. She was drawn to the creature. No. Not creature. So much more.