The figure in front of him came to a halt before a door.
Jidenna took a peek at the door from behind and was disappointed. 'Is this the place? But it looks so... so.' he concluded.
'I thought it would at least look better! With towering doors and regal drawings on it Right? At least the doorknob should look regal, right? As the king's family, but instead, the family's secret is behind an ordinary old door.'
The door before them was just a plain wooden door, the kind he had seen in 99.9% of houses in this village.
'This door, which would split into seven with one swing of an axe, is what's protecting the family's secret?'
His father turned around and instructed him in a stern manner, "Once we get inside, keep your head bowed and your eyes on the floor until I give you the signal not to." Then he quickly added, "And also stay silent. Do you understand me?"
With that, he turned back and opened the door carefully. The door swung open without slightest creak showing how well maintained it was despite it's ordinary exterior.
Stomping on the flames of his curiosity, Jidenna did as his father requested, keeping his eyes glued to the floor as he walked in.
But he couldn't help stealing glances around from the corners of his eyes, curious about everything. What he saw disappointed him more.
Light brown polished wood floors with a raffia mat at the center of the room. Apart from these things, there was nothing else present.
The room was wide enough to place ten of his father side by side, and none of them would feel cramped.
'I wonder how high this room is.' He tried to estimate how high the room was, struggling to see up, but failed. Giving up, he kept his eyes down, just like he had been instructed before.
With only two of them in the room, it seemed spacious.
Jidenna's train of thought was cut off when he heard a sound.
His eyes widened slightly before following suit.
He knelt on the raffia mat behind his father.
'Oh! This mat is not as uncomfortable as it looks.' The raffia mat was woven and looked thin.
'I thought kneeling on it would be like kneeling on grass on a chilly morning during harmattan—wait, harmattan is the coldest and most dusty season, right?'
Jidenna felt something hit him softly by his side. It snapped his attention back to the task at hand.
'He said he would give me a signal on when to raise my head. Is this it?' Assuming it was, Jidenna raised his head slowly just in case he was wrong.
As he raised his face, no blows or anything came down on him, so Jidenna grew bolder. When he lifted his face, the first thing Jidenna did was satisfy his itching curiosity.
His eyes darted left and right, drinking in the full display of the room, especially the mysterious statue that stood at the end of the room.
Its figure was lean, wearing a robe, the ends sweeping the floor. Its head was slightly bent downwards, like a god overlooking the plight of mortals indifferently. A hood covered its face.
Jidenna's eyes locked onto the statue's glowing yellow eyes that peeked out from the hood. He blinked. 'Am I seeing things?' When he opened his eyes again, it had disappeared.
His father, Ikenna, held his arm, dragging him up on his feet, and walked towards the outstretched arms of the statue.
In its hands lay a yellow rod. Jidenna eyed it, trying to see what was so special about it. 'Is it maybe made of pure gold?' The money-deprived Jidenna almost drooled at the thought. 'Thinking of it, this is quite a good place to hide such a thing,' he thought, eyeing the bar that was as long as his arm.
His father walked off to the side and finally introduced the room they were in. "Jidenna, listen," he called to Jidenna's wandering mind.
"Do you remember your grandmother was the former eze?" Jidenna nodded his head slightly, wondering why his father had said that.
He already knew that his grandmother was the former king.
His father continued, informing him, "What I am about to tell you was what your grandmother, the late Her Royal Majesty—" he paused, adding the respectful words, "may her soul rest in peace," before he continued, "she told me this same thing as the firstborn, and now the time has come—you, my child, Jidenna, have come of age," he said, giving his shoulder a pat.
"Which means that by our custom, I will pass the same knowledge to you, and you will be expected to do the same when you have children." His words faltered at the end, feeling unsure.
He was aware of Jidenna's real identity. For a brief moment, he shifted his gaze away as the thought flashed through his mind. 'Would he have children? If he wouldn't, considering his identity, I might have to pass it on to his sister, my second child. The bloodline must continue…'
Ikenna broke off his thoughts, pulling them back to the present. He took a glance at the statue from the corner of his eyes. He noted once more its hands were outstretched with the family heirloom laying on its palms.
'My goal is to educate him and nothing else. As for the rest... I'll cross that bridge once I get there.'
"This is the room that every firstborn has to come into. It is the building of the god this family and this village serve. He is known to many as the Knowledgeable One or the Healer—"
At his father's words, something stirred within Jidenna but quickly dissipated, leaving him grasping at nothing. 'That sounds familiar.'
He blinked. 'It gives me a sense of déjà vu. Have I heard it somewhere before?' Jidenna racked his brain but still came up with nothing, so he left it and focused back on his father's words.