Omotola felt no form of apprehension or fear as they arrived at Olumo. The anxiety that had plagued her three days ago about confronting the other gods was nowhere to be found, squashed in the face of the brutality of the Nupe gods. More raids had continued, more raping and killing in their wake. The Nupe gods could not enter Olumo boundary short of openly declaring war on the Yoruba gods.

Omotola had discovered the hold she had over Ode as he was now bound to her completely by virtue of her being the source of his powers. She had commanded him to reveal everything about the gods to her, teach her
everything to know about being godly and she had assimilated everything within two days. As a result, the relationship between them had become strained with Omotola only speaking to Ode in commands
and given sharp replies to his questions.

As they approached the magnificent mountain, Ode prepared to announce them but Omotola cut him short. She drew closer to the rock and when she was 20 feet away, she began to run towards it. The
speed at which she moved was slightly more than that of a human and as she got within three feet of the surface, she leapt, raising her palm which was now glowing and slammed it on the rock surface.

At first, there was nothing, just the deafening sound of her slap meeting the rock. Then the entrance of the rock exploded with a bang and she walked in, confident and sure, heading directly to the council chambers.

Ode stood at the entrance in slack jawed amazement, his face a perfect picture of awe. He lengthened his strides so he could catch up with Omotola and whispered frantically into her ears.

‘Omotola, you have just declared war on the Yoruba gods’

She replied without looking at him, ‘Yes I have’.

He was left behind again, bewilderment, anger and amazement warred for control of his emotions and this time he had to jog quickly to catch up with her. He knew she had issues she was dealing with, gods! he was surprised she was still sane after what those Nupe gods had done to her in their dungeon. Or maybe she wasn’t sane.

The thought rolled through Ode’s mind as they made the last corner into the council chamber and that was when he realized that he hadn’t shown her the way. She had simply known where it was. What awaited them was something Ode had not seen in thousands of years, slightly marred by the fact that it was rather upsetting it was arranged for them.

The Yoruba gods were in their garments of war. Each of them stood ready to fight this intruder in their midst. The amount of divine power in the room was so potent you could taste on your tongue.

Ogun with his Iron Spear, Moremi with her golden arrows, Obatala with his bags of charms, Esu with his wicked scythe, Oduduwa with his staff of power, even Sango stood with a lightning bolt gripped in his fist, his eyes full of pity at what was about to befall Omotola.

Orisanla was in the middle of them all, with his beguiling old frame and withered stick. He was the one to speak.

“Iwo”(you), he said, the word dripping with disgust. “Olaya lati gbogun de iwaju awon orisa ayeraye”(you have the guts to bring war against the everlasting gods) “Iwo omode alaimore yii”(you ungrateful child). “Iwo…”(you…)

‘Enough’ Omotola cut in and the collective shocked gasp from the other gods that followed was comical. She stepped forward and Ode wisely stayed back, ignoring the dirty looks given to him by the other
gods.

She reached the center and began to speak:
‘Once there was a great nation, a great people. Their warriors were fierce and strong, their women confident and proud. They were the envy of every tribe around them; it was obvious they were favored by the gods. They prayed and worshipped their gods in return for their benevolence. They poured libation at their altars, sacrificed and endured. Then, when an enemy threatened them, their gods fled to their sanctuary, leaving their people to be butchered and enslaved’.

She looked at them with disgust and continued;
‘You are not worthy of worship, you are not worthy of being a pantheon. I have not come here to fight you, but if I have to I will fight and I will win’, the glint in her eyes proved that she was not merely bluffing.

‘I head back to Oyo by dawn, this is your chance to redeem yourself, to be worthy of being a god. The Nupe desecrate your alters and rape your subjects in your sacred rooms. And you stand here, drunk and lazy in your united power. This cannot go on any longer’.

It was obvious from the reaction on some of the gods faces that her speech had gotten to them but Orisa nla said ‘We do not control fate, only Olodumare does. If it is our time to leave this earth, so be it, our time will
come again’ he finished.

‘Your time is now!’ Omotola shouted

Ogun stepped forward and said; derision dripped with every word ‘We will not follow a child to battle’ One by one, all the gods repeated his words, all except Sango, Oduduwa and Oya. They stepped out of
the midst of the gods and came to stand by Omotola. Moremi hissed as her son, Sango stood beside Omotola, but she didn’t say anything. She knew it was his choice to make. Omotola spared a weak smile, for her three newest recruits before facing the remaining gods who were already gearing up to fight.

She drew herself up and began to speak, her words reverberating with power ‘I am a creator’, she said, opening her balm as a ball of fire filled it. Not red or even blue flame, but white, blazing white flame. ‘As of this moment, I dissolve this pantheon. As of this moment, the Yoruba gods have no home. As of this moment, the Yoruba gods are scattered. As of this moment, divine pain will be inflicted when two Yoruba gods come in contact with one another. As of this moment, you have no inheritance in Oyo and Ife. As of this moment, you are broken’.

And as she said the last words, she closed her palms and her ball of white fire went out, plunging the room into darkness. But alas, the darkness could not hide the groans and screams coming from the lips of the Yoruba gods. Her third curse was already taking effect and the gods began running out of the room, some teleporting directly outside Olumo and running.

Her last curse took a literal form as the Olumo Mountain began to break.
She walked out of Olumo slowly as gigantic rocks began to break out of the mountain, smoothly formed, symbolizing each gods inheritance in Olumo. Since the pantheon had been dissolved, there was nothing
holding the rocks together anymore and they tumbled upon themselves in heaps. The gods who had chosen to side with her, just 4 in number, walked by her side as they stepped into the sunlight outside Olumo.

She turned to Ode and said;
‘Sound the trumpet, raise the signal, we march to war’

Gutsu was relaxed in his chambers in the royal palace of Oyo when he heard the keening sound of the Yoruba trumpet. He leapt up and began running through the corridors till he got to the highest Pire in
the palace. He looked southward and saw the blue flame in the sky.
‘The Yorubas have declared war’, he whispered to himself.