RETURN OF THE BABALAWO.

He could change into any form which he wanted, living or otherwise. He had been flying over the clouds for the most of an hour in the form of an eagle, seeing all that happened below as clear as day. The eagle was not him, and he was not the eagle; hence, he quelled the urge to swoop down and capture an unsuspecting squirrel. Edaho was the man's name; he was ancient, older than any man, and was therefore wise. He was so old that no human knew his name; all who possessed that information were no longer residents of this realm.

The eagle descended when it reached the riverbank and glided until it approached the road. It landed on the desolate pathway and its form became reversed. Edaho adjusted his bag and tunic, which had become untidy during the flight. He had come from a neighboring village to get a specific herb that only grew in the evil forest. There was nothing particularly sinister about the forest in question, but the other villages had taken to calling it that for what the forest protected.

Edaho walked down the path, trying his best to look like an old man who had lost his way. The defenders, as usual, were at their boundary posts. One of them noticed the figure approaching and soon all defenders were up and at alert. He could have flown over them in his eagle form if he had wanted, but still enjoyed the ways of man. The old man was waved over by the defenders and given a thorough search.

"What is your business here?" One of the large men asked after they had searched through his bag and found nothing suspicious.

"I left the village when I was still a child," Edaho said. "Now I have come back to die." The defender looked the Babalawo over and winced at how frail he looked.

"You can't leave if you enter. There is a new king, and he has made some rules. The first rule states that-"

"No one is allowed to leave the village, I know."

"You may pass." The defenders waved him forward and Edaho ambled towards the village. He passed some farmlands and saw the people being whipped; he would have interfered if all his previous efforts had not been in vain. These people only knew how to be whipped and told what to do; it was the only life they knew. What could you possibly expect from people who could not even leave their own village?

Edaho walked past a group of enforcers who were on their way to some other farm and mumbled a greeting. One of them boasted of how he could snap the old man in two with his whip, and they laughed. Edaho ignored them; his destination was the marketplace.

A crowd had gathered in the square when Edaho entered the market, and they were all watching something. The Babalawo found a spot which he could push his head through and saw two men hanging; one of the men was big while the other was small, very small. Their legs were tied to an overhanging pole with enormous cauldrons of boiling water below their heads. Edaho knew an execution when he was one; he had seen a great number of executions and would witness many more.

"These men stole from the king!" An enforcer shouted at the increasing crowd, pointing at the inverted men. "They have been tried by King Timion himself and today will be their last."

Edaho rummaged through his bag and pulled out the clock. He grabbed the knob and pulled it out; then wound it backward.

Another enforcer lowed the ropes and down the men went, their heads now an inch from the scalding hot water, the steam already cooking their scalps. "Watch what happens to thieves." Edaho clicked the knob back in place and the market square was no longer crowded. He walked past the Royal servants and messengers who were shopping for their masters and saw the enforcers leading both men from the palace; the smaller one looked like he was trying to strike some kind of bargain with the enforcers and got whipped on the neck. Edaho stood on the road, blocking the path of the enforcers, and smiled.

"Move away, crazy old man!" One enforcer shouted, and the other lifted his whip. Edaho sprang into action, hitting the first man on the neck and the other in the solar plexus. One fell down unconscious and the other doubled over. The Babalawo hit the man thrice with the tip of his fingers in some precise locations, and he too joined his friend in the act of sleeping.

"Whoa! You just beat up two enforcers." The smaller man said, wiping away his tears.

"I also just saved your lives, now take this." The Babalawo handed them two kola nuts from his bag. "Eat this and no one will remember you for bad, just make sure you stay out of trouble from now on." They took the nuts from the old man and nibbled.

"Who are you?" Onion asked, whilst chewing the nut. A few hours earlier he had munched on tastier nuts than this.

"I am not a person you want to know personally, now leave." They left, remembering what the man had done to the bull-men who now lay snoring on the sand.

Edaho turned the large men on their sides, so they wouldn't suffocate in their sleep and left for the vegetable shack. The gypsy woman who sold the vegetables smiled at him when he arrived, and the old man was happy to inhale the rich smell of the herbs and spices on display. Most of which were being sold in the Upper-city for twice the price. The Babalawo had known the gypsy since she had been a little child; he used to purchase special herbs from her mother. He was now forced to stare into her almost toothless smile.

"Welcome, Baba." The gypsy nodded repeatedly. Her looks would scare most men who looked directly at her, even enforcers.

"Thank you. Do you have the ikere?" The Babalawo asked, sitting down on one of the available stools.

"I'm afraid I don't," The woman nodded even when refusing something. Edaho knew that somewhere in the world the nodding gesture was or would be used to denote negative replies. It was knowledge, and he knew what all men knew. "My son is still on his way back. He sent a message saying he would arrive in two days."

"The defenders?" Edaho could learn what a white man was learning on the other side of the world. He only needed to ask.

"Yes, he is finding it harder to sneak past their camps with the goods. Trade is still illegal and more people are signing up to join the enforcers. There is barely enough food left for workers and traders, myself included."

"Leave this place. Follow your son on his next trip; maybe settle in a new village."

"You know this is my home and I believe all this will soon change; besides, none of those idiots would dare to whip an old herbalist hag like me. They fear I would place some kind of curse on them, and they are most absolutely correct because I will." she laughed.

"So I only need to wait for a few days then?" The Babalawo asked, getting up from the stool.

"If you decide," The gypsy nodded so fast at that moment that a large glob of spit dripped from her mouth. "You still have a hut here?"

"Yes, up there in Vothland." It was Edaho's turn to nod.

"I still can't figure out how you can afford a house in the Upper-city and not some nice clothes."

"It was a long time ago, now I no longer have cravings for wealth." The Babalawo waved the gypsy woman farewell and left for his house. He showed the enforcers at the mid-gate his seal of homeownership, and they allowed him to pass. There were a lot of stairs to climb before you reached Vothland, and once you had scaled them all you would be in an entirely different world.