"Once upon a time," intoned the shrill but gentle voice of an old graceful woman.
"Time, time!" chorused the little ones seated around her.
The Old Graceful Woman leaned forward, her eyes twinkling with the secrets of ages past. Tonight, she was going to tell a different sort of story from the previous ones the children were used to. She was saving the best story for this special moment: the full-moon-lit night. Her pace was suspenseful; her rhythm, poetic. She was known for her graceful sway with words that no one listening to her story could ever be bored.
The fire crackled nearby, casting dancing shadows across the children's faces as they sat enraptured by her words.
"In the days when the gods still walk among men," The Old Graceful Woman resumed, "there was a great sign from the heavens."
The full moon basked its radiant silvery beauty upon the slim, once beautiful frame of The Old Graceful Woman and the little ones, casting shadows about them.
"This sign was a star that fell from the sky," the hundred-and-something year old woman continued in an enigmatic piercing tone, "and as it hit our world of mortals, hills and valleys erupted at the wake of its great fall..." the Old Woman whispered, her voice filled with reverence. "In the wake of the star's descent," she continued, her voice low and melodious, "the land trembled with an end-of-the-world force. Trees swayed, their branches reaching desperately for the heavens, while rivers overflowed their banks, carving new pathways through the earth."
The children gasped, their imaginations ignited by the vivid imagery painted by the storyteller's words; holding their breaths, their hearts throbbing in their chests as the storyteller leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming with ancient knowledge.
"And from the heart of the chaos emerged the Last of the Gods." She paused, allowing the gravity of her words to sink in. The children leaned forward, hanging on her every breath.
"H-how?" gasped an eager little one, a boy trying to grasp upon how a tiny star's fall could be responsible for the manifestations of hills and valleys.
"Quiet, Eme!" reproached another Little One, a girl. "It's only a folktale.
"No, no, no, Ofeke," the Old Woman corrected the girl with a tiny finger waving. "It is more than a folktale. As a matter of truth, it actually happened."
Again, the children gasped, the chill of the night air mingling with the sense of foreboding that hung heavy in the air. Was it a true story as the wise old storyteller was saying, or just another folktale, they could not tell. But one thing was for sure, the story did get their undivided attention.
She had previously promised them a different kind of tale at the next coming full moon. She had told them it would be the greatest tale they would ever listen to. After all, she was the greatest storyteller in the whole of Nri dynasty.
"Ha!" exclaimed Ofeke disbelievingly. "A tiny star from the sky hitting the Earth to uproot hills and valleys - are you sure it's real, great great grand?"
"As sure as I was there when it happened."
"Ho-o!" the little ones chorused in unison of uncertainty.
"I can see that you are in doubt, little ones. But if you would just keep quiet and listen, children, mayhaps you would believe," said the Old Woman, brandishing at them a roguish grin. "Now, where was I...?