Rain soaked into Ojadili's skin long before he felt it.
Consciousness returned slowly , not with the truth of reality — but like drowning upward through heavy water.
His body refused to move at first.
Mud pressed against his cheek.
The metallic scent of blood mixed with wet earth.
For a moment, he did not remember who he was.
Then pain reminded him.
His shoulder burned as though something still held its teeth there. His chest tightened with every shallow breath. When he tried to move his fingers, they trembled uncontrollably.
The wolves.
The lightning.
The forest.
He rolled onto his back with difficulty.
Grey sky stared down at him through trembling branches.
"Am I alive ? " he whispered hoarsely.
The words sounded unreal.
He waited.
Nothing answered him.
Not thunder.
Only rain.
Ojadili lifted one trembling hand and stared at it as if it belonged to someone else. Mud clung beneath his fingernails. His palm shook violently.
Slowly he touched his shoulder.
Pain flared instantly.
He hissed through his teeth.
The wound was deep. The torn flesh felt hot and swollen beneath his fingers. If infection took it, the forest would finish what the wolves had started.
He pressed harder.
And then—
A faint warmth pulsed beneath his skin.
Not outside.
Inside.
For a moment it felt like tiny sparks crawling beneath the wound.
Ojadili frowned.
The pain dulled slightly.
Not gone.
But… quieter.
He pulled his hand away, breathing hard.
"What… was that?" he murmured.
The warmth faded as quickly as it came.
Rain continued to fall.
Slowly — painfully — he forced himself upright.
The bodies of the wolves lay scattered around him, rain flattening their fur. Steam no longer rose from them. Whatever power had surged through him had vanished completely.
No crackle.
No glow.
Just a wounded man in a forest that did not care whether he stood or fell.
He pressed his palm against his torn shoulder and winced.
" What happened to the wolves " Ojadili asked confused."If I stay here, I die anyway." He said as he pushes himself to get out of the forest.
The village lay beyond the tree line to the west — if his memory was correct. But memory felt unreliable now. The divine realm still clung to his thoughts like fading smoke.
He took a step.
His knees buckled.
He steadied himself against a tree trunk, breathing through the wave of dizziness.
One step became two.
Two became five.
Each movement felt stolen.
Rain made the earth slippery beneath his feet. Branches scraped against his skin. His vision swam in and out of focus.
Then the headache struck.
It came without warning — a crushing pressure behind his eyes.
Ojadili staggered.
Fragments of memory flashed violently through his mind.
Lightning frozen in the sky.
A throne of thunder.
Voices arguing over his fate.
His vision blurred.
He grabbed a nearby tree to steady himself as nausea twisted in his stomach.
"Stop…" he groaned.
Saliva drops from his mouth.
He tries had not to bite his tongue as it pulls him violently .
His head felt too heavy for his body.
As if something enormous had been forced inside it.
Instinctively he pressed his palm against his temple.
Lightening flowed .
The same strange warmth flickered again.
Soft.
Barely noticeable.
The pounding in his skull eased.
Just a little.
He blinked in confusion.
For a moment he thought he saw faint sparks slide across his fingertips — like distant lightning hidden beneath skin.
Then they vanished.
Ojadili lowered his hand slowly.
"I must be losing my mind," he muttered .
But the headache did not return with the same fury as it gradually slips away .
He continued.
More than once, he thought he saw light flicker at the edge of his sight — faint, distant, like heat lightning inside clouds.
Whether it was an illusion or real he couldn't tell as he's really stressed out and just longs one thing to reach home .
But when he blinked, it was gone.
Time lost meaning.
But Hunger didn't .
Slow at first.
Then brutal.
It was as if the forest were now testing him as problems comes on after another.
Ojadili leaned against a tree, breathing heavily as his stomach twisted. His body had lost too much blood.
He scanned the forest weakly.
Something red caught his eye.
Wild forest berries clung to a low branch nearby.
He staggered toward them and plucked a handful.
The first bite was sour.
The second nearly made him gag.
But he forced himself to swallow.
Strength crept back slowly — like water returning to dry soil.
He tore a strip from his already ruined clothing and wrapped it tightly around his wounded shoulder.
The cloth soaked through almost immediately.
Still, it slowed the bleeding.
The forest offered no better mercy.
The forest thinned gradually, trees giving way to familiar footpaths worn by villagers gathering firewood. The sight should have relieved him.
Instead, a strange fear rose inside him.
He had been judged by gods.
Struck by lightning.
Returned from death.
What would they see when they looked at him?
Man?
Or omen?
His steps slowed as the first hut rooftops became visible through rain.
Smoke no longer rose from cooking fires — the storm had driven people indoors. The entire village seemed suspended in uneasy quiet.
He crossed the final stretch of path.
A small figure stood beneath the overhang of a hut.
Obiagheli.
She stared at him without recognition at first.
Then her eyes widened.
Her clay water pot slipped from her hands and shattered against stone.
"Ojadili?"
The name came out as breath, not certainty.
He tried to answer.
Only a rasp emerged.
She stepped back instinctively.
Not from disgust.
From disbelief.
"You— you were gone."
Before Ojadili could reply , she begin to run back towards the village.
"Ojadili! Ojadili!" She screamed
Villagers froze in shock as they saw the dead walked among them.
Obiagheli turned and ran.
Others begin to come as they hear the loud voice of Obiagheli .
Obiagheli ran out to call ugomma immediately.
Murmurs spread quickly.
The murmurs grew into uneasy whispers.
A woman pulled her child behind her.
A man made a protective sign across his chest.
Two elders exchanged worried glances.
Distance between them widened without anyone speaking the command.
No one wanted to be the first to touch him.
Or the first to discover whether he was truly alive.
"He was taken."
"They said the spirits claimed him."
"Look at his wounds."
"His eyes…"
Ojadili felt their gaze like weight pressing against his skin.
Some stared in awe.
Some in fear.
Some with quiet accusation — as if he had crossed a boundary no man should.
An elder approached cautiously, leaning on his carved staff.
" What did you do that our ancestors send you back ! " Another ask in awe.
The question struck cheaper .
If he had really went to their ancestors world if would have been easier for him but he didn't , He just had a wrestling match with the gods .
Ojadili opened his mouth.
Nothing came.
How could he explain judgment, lightning, law, and divine debate to those who only saw blood and rain?
Ojadili decides to ignore them as he continues to move towards his ugomma's house who can understand.
"Ugomma!" Obiagheli shouted, her voice cutting across the village like a sharp drumbeat.
Ugomma sat weaving a hand fan.
"Why can she never call softly?" she muttered.
Obiagheli burst into the hut.
"I saw him!"
Ugomma frowned. "Saw who?"
"Ojad"
The fan slipped from Ugomma's hands.
"Don't," she said sharply. "Don't joke with life and death."
"I'm serious. I know I've pranked you on other things but I can't do that with life or death .I swear I saw him" Obiagheli said breathlessly. "He's alive. Walking toward the square."
Ugomma analyse hee friends face to notice she's serious but she couldn't believe that , anyway she later stood slowly.
"Seeing is believing," she murmured her heart beating rapidly as the desire to see Ojadili once more even if it's his corpse is better than what she had originally saw .
They ran.
Rain soaked Ugomma's hair as she hurried across the village path.
Her heartbeat pounded louder than Obiagheli's shouting.
Ojadili.
The name echoed painfully inside her chest.
She had mourned him.
Watched the village perform the rituals meant for the lost.
Watched his mother sit silently for hours beside the doorway.
And now—
Alive?
Hope was dangerous.
Hope could shatter a person faster than grief.
Still she ran.
Because if there was even the smallest chance…
she had to see him.
And then—
She saw him.
Ojadili lifted his head slowly.
For one fragile moment, hope flickered inside his chest.
"Ugomma…"
The name barely left his lips.
She stared at him.
Her eyes widened.
Not with joy.
With terror.
The scream tore from her throat before she could stop it.
Ugomma screamed.
The fan she's holding fell.
She staggered back.
Her face drained of color.
She could not move.
She could not speak.
She could only stare at him.