No one came to cheer when he mounted his horse. No children lined the streets with songs. Only soldiers saluted as the great gates opened, their eyes sharp, measuring.
He rode out of Irele with little disguise, his royal beads stripped, his face uncovered. To hide was cowardice, and cowardice was death. But then, he knew; outside the walls, no one knew what he looked like.
- Or so he thought.
>
The prince rode alone. No guards, no servants— only the steady beat of his horse's hooves. The forest stretched wide and dark, too quiet, as if it was watching him.
He held the reins tighter, eyes shifting left and right. Danger was the first companion of every traveler.
And it came swiftly.
From the undergrowth, eyes tracked him, hungry and merciless. Bandits. They had been waiting for prey, and a lone rider in fine leather was more than they had dared hope for. One crouched low, bow drawn, arrow notched.
A whistle cut through the trees.
The horse jerked as arrows hissed past, stabbing into the dirt at his side. From the shadows, six men stepped out— faces covered, machetes glinting.
They spread out around him, grinning like hunters who had already won.
But the prince did not flinch.
The bandits closed in. One spat on the ground, machete flashing.
" Drop the horse, boy. Leave your goods, and maybe we let you crawl away."
The prince sat tall in the saddle, eyes cold.
" You mistake me for a merchant. I don't crawl. Also, you should have brought more men. " he said, his voice calm.
He drew his sword—broad, heavy, the kind meant not for show but for killing.
The forest went still- holding its breath.
The bandits rushed him. Steel met steel. The air rang with the clash of blades, the grunts of men fighting for survival. The prince movements were precise, cold, efficient. He cut one down, then another, his blade flashing in the dim forest light. Blood stained the ground, and the rest fled back into the shadows, leaving only silence behind.
Breathing hard- yet smiling at the little thrill, he wiped the blade on a fallen leaf and sheathed it. His horse pawed the ground, restless, but he only whispered, "Six months…"
His hand brushed against a carved wooden pendant hanging from his neck— it felt warm in his palm.- the only gift from a father who trusted his strength, but never his choices.
…and the game begins.
--
But deep in the trees, unseen, another pair of eyes watched him ride away- gaze that will not forget the prince of Irele.
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Days later, just close to the Oyo empire, a lone traveler moved through the forests of the Oyo.
The path was long, and the air no longer carried the sweetness it once did. Wale pushed a branch aside, sweat clinging to his brow as he followed the faint trail ahead. His stomach grumbled again, reminding him how long it had been since he last tasted real food.. Yet he pressed on, stopping only when his legs demanded rest. Dropping onto a low rock, he uncorked his water gourd. Just as the coolness touched his lips, a sharp sting struck his leg. He hissed, cursing beneath his breath. Wilderness life did not come easily to him.
Before he could mutter further, somewhere ahead- rustling leaves gave him pause. A blur darted past his feet— a rabbit, running for its life.
Wale blinked, ready to give chase, but another figure leapt into view.
Behind it came a young man, breathless, chasing with more determination than skill.
>
He whistled nonchalantly. His servant- a tall, wiry young man dressed plainly, his expression lowered in the perfect image of servitude was trailing dutifully behind him.
Suddenly a rabbit crossed his path. Bored,- he decided to give it a hot pursuit. His sharp eyes followed the darting animal as his boots sank into the soft earth. Just behind him, his silent companion kept pace, barely:
"Idowu, faster!" His voice carrying the weight of command.
He chased after it- unaware of the presence of another.
Wale couldn't help but laugh at the drama which unfolded in front of him. The sight was too rare: prey and hunter spinning in wild circles, the hunter clearly losing.
He leaned forward, studying the youth. Long hair, beautiful long legs, fair skin glowing under the sun, a well-built body that carried strength, yet his steps were clumsy.
How could someone do built be losing to a rabbit?
Twenty-five? Twenty-four? No younger than that, surely— but struggling like a boy.
"Árewá - Beautiful one. " Wale called out with a grin.
"Let me show you."
Without waiting for an answer, he picked up a pebble and a stick, flicking it with sharp aim- crack. The stone struck through— the rabbit dropped instantly at the youth's feet.
The young man froze, staring at the still body. He then looked at Wale. His breathing was ragged, sweat clinging to his skin. He threw blade stares at wale- he then realized.-
The man before him was undeniable.. handsome? No..! Handsome was an understatement! His locked hair tied neatly. His black clothes.. although simple, seem to esteem his body. He held a sword which seemed different unlike every other sword he had seen. The manner he was dressed was as ordinary as any other man, yet something about him still feels unique and different from being mundane.
Ignoring all that and breaking from the spell, his brows turned to a frown.
The man met his gaze and Wale could see his face properly.
For a heartbeat, the world stilled.
Handsome? No. The word was too small. His face was divine, his beauty almost unearthly. Wale's lips parted slightly, caught off guard.The man in front of him was like a goddess. His face was heavenly, perfect- How could such a man exist?
"Árewá looto- Beautiful indeed," he whispered.
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...To be continued