Chapter 47: Chains of Time

“So where have you been all our lives?” I asked, sitting on one of the wooden chairs in the living room, trying to keep my voice steady even though my heart was racing.

Timi sat beside her on the old, long sofa, his presence a quiet anchor. Daniel and Ayara had taken a place near the fireplace, the flickering flames casting shadows across their faces. Francis knelt at the hearth, replacing the burnt wood with fresh logs, the crackling of the fire filling the otherwise tense silence.

Waje—our grandmother—sat calmly across from us. Her gaze was steady, almost unreadable, and for a moment, I wondered if she had been expecting us all along.

She folded her hands in her lap and said softly, “It’s quite a story.”

I swallowed and leaned forward slightly. “Well,” I said, trying to sound braver than I felt, “we’re all ears.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, only the fire’s gentle crackle filling the space, as we waited for her to begin.

Waje’s eyes grew distant as she began, her voice low but steady, “When you and your siblings were still children, I had a vision… a vision of the Orunmila worshipers, plotting against our family. It was clear to me that they were planning something terrible, something that could destroy everything we held dear.”

She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in, then continued, “My visions have never been wrong. So, I decided to act. I disguised myself as one of them, a female worshiper, to discover what they were planning… to see their intentions with my own eyes.”

Her hands tightened slightly in her lap as she spoke. “I left the forest where me and your grandfather lived and transformed into one of them. It was a perfect disguise… one that could fool even the most vigilant eyes.”

I leaned forward, my pulse quickening as she continued. “When I arrived at the shrine of Orunmila, it was as if they had been expecting me all along. The moment I stepped inside, they ripped off my bracelet—the source of my transformation power. I transformed back into my original self instantly, but it didn’t matter. Before I could react, they tied my mouth, so I could not speak a single spell.”

Her voice dropped almost to a whisper, heavy with memory. “They chained me. Not just any chains, but ones enchanted with ewe akara—a sacred leaf used to weaken witches. From that moment on, I was at their mercy, powerless against their will.”

She looked at us then, her gaze piercing through the flickering firelight. “I knew then… that escaping would be far harder than I ever imagined.”

She shivered slightly as she continued, her voice low and measured. “For years, they interrogated me… trying to force me to reveal what I knew about the Vampire race. I said nothing. Not a single word. I had nothing to give them, nothing to confess.”

Her eyes glazed over as if reliving the memories. “All I could do was close my eyes… and see the world through the eyes of my family. I watched them live their lives, simple and peaceful, full of love and laughter. That was the only thing that kept me sane—the only thing that reminded me there was still light beyond the chains and darkness.”

Her lips trembled as the memory deepened. “Then, one day, while seeing through the eyes of my grandchildren, horror struck. I saw them being attacked… the Oyo army had come, and the Orunmila worshipers were there too. They slaughtered my husband and the vampires my family had created, my children barely escaped, carrying their husbands and children with them.”

She looked down at her hands, clenching them tightly. “And worse… I was blamed. My own children believed I had betrayed them, that I had revealed the secrets of Akaja to Oyo. They thought I was the reason for the carnage… the reason for the blood spilled.”

Her gaze lifted to us, haunted but unwavering. “I was powerless to stop it. I could only watch… only endure.”

She drew a slow breath, her eyes shadowed with the weight of the memory. “Than after the carnage, my daughters erased all traces of me from my grandchildren’s memories. They wanted nothing to remind them of my existence.”

Her hands flexed tightly in her lap. “Once my family had fled, the worshipers turned on me. They tried to kill me—every manner of execution imaginable—but nothing worked. I was… unyielding, untouchable by their methods.”

Her voice lowered to a whisper, almost reverent. “Finally, they dragged me deep into the forest, into a cave cloaked in dark magic. They bound me there, ensuring that no supernatural creature could enter… and that I could never leave. I was trapped… alone… until I met Francis.”

She paused, extending her hand towards Francis and he came to her and and kissed her forehead then he went to tend the torches, replacing those that were almost burned out.

Her eyes softened, almost smiling at the memory. “Francis… he was a lost traveler, a troubled vampire stumbled into my prison. When he saw me huddled in the corner, he tried to come closer—but the magic held me tight. So he sat there And we spoke. About his life… and mine. Days passed, filled with nothing but conversation. For the first time in centuries, I felt… less alone.”

I soon realized how similar Francis and I were—how our minds and hearts resonated in ways I hadn’t expected. He decided he would find a way to free me, but the cave’s bindings were no simple chains. No human would willingly step inside, and no one was willing to speak of how to break such a powerful enchantment.

Months passed as he searched, following whispers and legends, until he finally found a coven of witches—descendants of my own bloodline. At first, they refused, trembling at the thought of meddling with such potent dark magic. But Francis, unyielding and merciless, threatened them with the lives of everyone they knew and loved. Only then did they relent.

The ritual took place at the mouth of the cave, under a sky roiling with storm. Hours of chanting filled the air, mingling with the roar of thunder and the deep crimson glow of the clouds. I could feel the magic pressing and twisting around my bindings, testing every ounce of my being. And then—finally—the chains shattered. I was free.

But freedom came at a terrible cost. One by one, the witches collapsed, vomiting blood as their life force drained from them, the price of meddling with forces beyond mortal reckoning. Silence fell, heavy and reverent, broken only by the distant rumble of the storm. I stood there, trembling but alive, finally tasting freedom after centuries of captivity.

After Francis freed me, he brought me home. The centuries I had spent bound in that cave had taken their toll—most of my powers had faded, dulled by the relentless weight of dark magic. Still, some fragments of my sight remained, small glimpses I could not control.

I saw you all—Daniel, Timi, Ayara, and Juliet—moving through your lives, unaware of the danger creeping closer with every heartbeat. And I knew… I knew that one day you would find your way to me. That day would come, and when it did, I would be here to warn you.

The visions were relentless, each one a shadow of what is to come: a threat so immense, so insidious, that it could end us all if we were unprepared. Every image, every flicker of foresight reminded me that time is short, that you must act before the darkness swallows everything we have ever known.

“What danger are you talking about? Who is coming for us?” I asked.

Waje’s voice was calm. “It is someone you know. Of your blood. He knows you and your companions. He is coming, and he will bring destruction with him.”

She paused, then added, “Be ready. Be cautious. Otherwise, none of you will survive.”

The room fell silent, the only sound the crackling of the fire.