Now out of the forest, Wale made his way to a roadside inn to pass the night.
He ordered a bowl of fish soup and he sat staring before the steaming dish, his appetite dulled by the weight of his journey. Why had he left the comfort of his home to wander this world?
From the far corner, a group of men sat huddled around a jug of palm wine, their voices low but sharp with excitement.
> "The process of choosing the new emperor has begun. " an old man declared, his rough hands waving for emphasis. "Every kingdom is on edge. Blood will surely spill before this is over."
Soon, he was surrounded by a few eager listeners.
Another man agreed. "True. The three kingdoms are doing all they can so that their prince will take the throne. Each prince wants the crown. Uhm! I smell blood in the air already."
A stranger at their table frowned- confused and leaned forward. " Who are these three princes you speak of?"
The old man looked at him with disbelief. "Who are you? You must be new here? You do not know the famous princes? Everyone knows them. Let me tell you."
He lowered his voice, savoring the attention of the room.
"The First Prince— they call him the Beauty Soul Eater."
"Beauty soul eater?" the stranger echoed, puzzled. "Tori kini? Why is that? "
"You truly know nothing," the old man chuckled. "The first prince is handsome beyond reasons, but he has eyes only for male beauties. He surrounds himself with them. Not a woman, not a female slave— only men.
It is said that once he sets his eyes on a beautiful man, he takes him… and eats his very soul.Some call him a vampire. In Irele kingdom, young men born with beauty smear ash on their faces before stepping outside, just so they will not be taken.- " he paused, then added almost immediately.
"- Hah! I thank the gods my sons look like me and not their mother. Otherwise they will be hiding indoors with fear! " He slapped his knee and laughed even at his own grim joke.
The listeners laughed nervously, but one young traveler— Wale- dragged his stool closer, his fish soup forgotten. His eyes gleamed with curiosity.
Ignoring the looks from the group, he faced the old man.
"Really? Is that true? The prince really eats their souls?" he asked.
The old man, proud of the captive audience, straighten his shoulders and puffed his chest. "Every word. And that is only the First Prince."
Another listener asked- "Ọmọ ọba kejì nko?"
(What about the second prince?)
The old man cleared his throat. "Ah, the Second Prince… the Sly Fox. Crafty. Deceptive. Beautiful too, but dangerous in a quieter way. He smiles gently, speaks sweetly— but even the wisest man can be fooled by him. He is lazy though, spoiled. He hates training and fighting so his fighting skills are poor."
" Shhh!! " a woman at a nearby table leaned forward urgently. " Lower your voice. If someone hears you mock him like that… won le pa e- you might be killed."
The old man only chuckled.
"Ha! Kill me? I am old already. Why fear death. Death and I are neighbors." Then he leaned forward and went on:
" Although the second prince lacks fighting skills, it is not same for the first and third prince. They are strong warriors. Especially the first— his skills are unmatched. He is the strongest warrior—fearless, merciless, unmatched with the sword. They say if you dare meet his eyes, he will cut yours out without a thought." the old man dragged a finger across his eyes.
Wale's brow furrowed. His skin prickled.
"And the third prince? " he asked quietly.
The room fell silent. The old man sighed- his tone softened.
" The third prince… he is different.
Active, kind- loved by all. When he was younger, he was strong, fierce, braver than most men twice his age. But illness has crippled him as a man. For three years now, no word has come. If he lives or not, no one knows… ò má ṣe o- what a pity. "
A man in his thirties suddenly leaned closer, lowering his voice. "But listen. There are whispers. Days days ago...," He looked around carefully before lowering his voice. "…the first prince left his palace."
Gasps rippled through the listeners. Wale too; lips parting in surprise. "Ahh…" he whispered, nodding.
" But how would they know? " a woman asked. "No one has ever seen the princes' faces."
"True. " everyone agreed.
The man smirked." True. " he admitted.
" And yet the whispers spread. I also heard the Third Prince slipped away from the palace long ago- some say it has been a few years now. Perhaps… perhaps he still walks among us."
The people had different reactions to this. The crowd exchanged wary glances, eyes shifting from the storyteller to the people standing or sitting next to them, as if wondering if the prince was hidden in plain sight.
The old man fell quiet, lost in his own thought, staring into nothing.
' This was why nothing has been heard of him for the past three years. '
The group slowly fell back into murmurs.
Having heard enough, Wale rose at last, climbing to his rented room. He lay on the raffia mat. The gossip still alive in his mind
He opened the window and looked at the moon. The moon hung behind thick clouds. He then said with a voice which sounded almost like a whisper..
"One, a soul- eating beauty. One, a sly fox. One… brave but broken. Tell me, moon— who among them deserves to be emperor?" he whispered.
> To be continued