The old man feels a sudden sharp pain, and the dog woman looks at him.

  She smiles and says, “Here comes your judgement, old friend.”

  He says, “WHAT THE HE-“. He soon gets sucked underground and falls unconscious. Soon jolting awake in a bed and seeing a doctor with weird marks on his face. The man seemed to be covered head to toe, making sure to not expose much of himself.

  The man asks, “What’s your name, sir?” The old man looks around, to notice he’s in a hut. Feeling his face to notice, there’s no bumps or blemishes on his face.

  He utters, “I…uh, I’m Sopona.” The doctor gets excited and grabs Sopona’s hands, “Really? You’re…I can’t say your name but, you’re him Baba?” The man’s face lights up, it has a mix of fear as well. Sopona nods. The man bows, frantically. The god smiles and stops the man before he can go get an offering, “My friend, it’s ok. I thank you for housing me, that’s offering enough. I must ask, why are you covered so heavily though?”

  The doctor’s tone switches, looks down solemnly and says with much shame, “This… village is full of sick people, the spots that appear often reflect secrets that have ruined homes, caused murders, or made people destroy themselves. Oh great lord of health, please help us. Forgive me if I’ve disrespected you or any in this village has made any transgressions”

  Sopona thinks to himself, “I don’t cast these kinds of plagues, so this might be a test. Thing is, what aspect are they testing? I’m at a blank.”Sopona responds, “I understand your plea, I’ll walk amongst you to see if you’re worthy. And again, thank you for helping me. What’s your name?”

  The doctor shyly laughs, “My name is Maduabuchi. I’m the doctor of this village.”Sopona attempts to leave but suddenly feels an agonizing pain in his chest. The pain feeling like daggers ripping away at his insides. It’s so intense that it nearly makes him fall over. Maduabuchi quickly acts and catches him. Sopona has a random memory flash through his head, begging for his attention. The memory is vague but it makes him feel sick to his stomach. He feels like he has to vomit, but there’s nothing coming out. His body reflexively rejecting what could possibly leave his body. Maduabuchi sits him back down and gives him a drink. Sopona drinks rather rashly, trying to calm down his chest pain and overall sick feeling.

  Maduabuchi says meekly, “I can help you walk around if it’s hard for you to move. I’ll also bring the herbs I put in that drink so if you’re feeling sick again, we can handle it.” Sopona looks at him, a bit confused if he’s showing pity or genuine concern. His expression slightly hinting at a disgust at the thought of pity.

  He thinks, “Maybe this man is a test? To accept weakness? No, that would be too easy….unless, I’ll just see where this goes.” He nods and he’s helped to his feet as well as given a gourd full of the tea that was made. He gets taken to the town central, it reeks of abandonment and isolation. Scattered bits of life remain- half burnt fires, worn blankets and the ground has faint impressions of footprints. There’s so little here that it's obvious that they’re nomads. He feels an overwhelming sense of despair and he can hear thoughts of the people roaring in his mind. The shame, the guilt, the disgust, and the fear. They only get louder as he gets closer to the center of the town.

  When he arrives, he says sickly yet trying to put on an air of authority, “I’m Sopona! I’m here to see if you’re all worthy of my power. My healing. Now, reveal your sins so I can judge those worthy and those who aren’t.” A meek woman walks up cautiously, she gently pulls up her sleeves tor eveal drawings of children being killed. The image dancing across her skin like a film, small cries can be heard if everything’s quiet. Sopona finally meets the woman’s eyes, they have bags and dried tear marks under them.

  Sopona asks, “What was your sin?” The woman stays silent. He notices that she’s starting to shake. She’s about to be on the verge of a breakdown, he sighs. He reached out for her hands and she pulled away, her voice shaking with anger. “No! I…I don’t want you to see any more! Just tell me I’m worthless! You've seen enough, haven’t you?! Stop giving me this… false hope!” He tilts his head, somewhat analyzing her. Seeing her fragile state, he walks closer to her and in response she stumbles back.

  He then asks, "Why'd you come to me? To be judged or perhaps…something more to affirm thoughts that aren’t my own? Let me see what you truly are, if there's redemption for you then, I-"

  She interrupts, "Y-you don't have to lie..." Her tone now perfectly showing how much she’s truly given up, "Everyone has said what you're saying. Yet, everyone still hated me in the end. I...I don't want to keep being told I'm evil..." She fidgets with her hands, "You asked me why I came here, I...I don't know.” She drops to her knees and in the silence, the children’s screams are slightly heard. The woman’s voice is nothing above a whisper now, “If I was healed, what good would it do? Everyone I know sees me as…I just want it to be over. I feel so trapped. It's too dangerous for me to live alone. I’ll die if I attempted it…but if I die, at least I can’t keep pretending there’s anything left to fix. Maybe everyone is right, I deserve whatever pain lies in store for me.”

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  He stares at her while she’s on the ground, he considers getting down to her level but he refuses. There’s a silence between them that slowly fills the atmosphere, but it’s short live. It gets killed by the commanding gentleness of his voice telling her, "Some deserve death, yes. But, your grief shows the action wasn’t taken lightly. Death isn’t a punishment because, you’re already paying a big enough price. The guilt, the regret, the disgust, the shame, all of it is your price for whatever you’ve done. They’re also signs that you have a some humanity in you. Those who deserve death don’t care about their sins, they have nothing resembling what you have.”

  She reaches out her hands and responds in a defeated tone, “Ok….Prove it then.” She gets up and looks him in the eyes, her voice filling with some hope, “Prove I’m not worthless. Please.” Her shaking stops once he holds both of her hands and he sees a memory being projected into his mind. He’s in point of view and sees he’s holding two children. Small and frail, he’s in a cave. He tries to peek out but sees a moschorhinus walking around, it’s been days since the children have eaten. He knows what happens next, he pulls himself out of the memory.

  His expression shifts from disgust, then sympathetic then reflective. All in a slow sequence, his eye contact slowly breaks as well. Her hope slowly seeps away, tears begin to fill her eyes. She tries to pull away but he commands with some strain, “Stay.” She sits there shaking until something catches her eye. There’s an image slowly forming on his skin, it’s similar to a Rorschach blot that’s trying to form a city. She looks up at the god and he lets her go finally. He’s crying. She reaches up and he leans into her touch. He lifts his frail hand to caress the back of her hand, it was dry and scarred. At a closer look, it seemed like her nails were jagged. He says, “I’ll carry your burdens, even if your actions are…” he hesitates and his voice changing to a bit more softer, “…actions, every being fears death. It would be unreasonable to expect someone to face down that threat. Cruel even. People judge you only to make themselves seem righteous, for survival. You are no different than them. I’m sure your children are with Olorun in orurere.”

  The woman slowly gives and weak smile as she collapses to the floor. Her sobbing can be heard through the town, she tries to respond to the Orisha but she’s unable. Meanwhile another mortal is also speechless, Babalú-Ayé. He says, “THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY?” The figures simply laugh hollowly at his outburst, almost like a chorus of ridicule. They say, “Like an animal, you lash out instead of presenting your point in a civil manner. It’s oh so entertaining, you make children seem like elders!” Babalú-Ayé lowers his tone and start gripping the table, a feeble attempt at presenting a fragile self respect, “Then why’d you come here? If just to use me for your entertainment?” The figures become women and they’re all familiar figures, “We can ask you the same thing, darling?” He says, “THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY?” The figures simply laugh hollowly at his outburst, almost like a chorus of ridicule. They say, “Like an animal, you lash out instead of presenting your point in a civil manner. It’s oh so entertaining, you make children seem like elders!” Babalú-Ayé lowers his tone and start gripping the table, a feeble attempt at presenting a fragile self respect, “Then why’d you come here? If just to use me for your entertainment?” The figures become women and they’re all familiar figures, “We can ask you the same thing, darling?”

  Babalú-Ayé just looks at them, enraged and clawing at his mind to anything to refute them. To make himself not look so pathetic, he doesn’t need to keep getting disrespected. But alas, nothing comes. They all say in a cold chorus, “You’re nothing but a man that’ll settle for any woman that gives you a slight chance of attention. You’ll die alone, Sopona.”

  He yells with his eyes enraged, “WHAT DO YOU KNOW, HUH?! THIS ISN’T EVEN REAL!” They respond indifferently, “Yet everything we say is true, everything you’ve done is very real. So no matter how much you want to discredit everything we claim, you know it’s true.” Eshu sits there studying the expression on Babalú-Ayé’s face. As tears pour from the frail man’s face, his fist clenched to the point of bleeding and his eyes reflecting guilt at the claims while his body language portrays a more ignorance than what’s truly under the surface.

  Eshu yawns loudly, cocking his head back, “Are you THAT desperate to spread your disease? Trying to match the land in amount of bodies you have?” He starts laughing, “It’s almost humorous! We have the animals and the forest for population control, you want to beat them both?”

  Babalú-Ayé shouts in a defensive and dismissive tone, “YOU THINK ME A MONSTER TOO, HUH? MAYBE I SHOULD PLAY THE PART AND KILL YOU RIGHT NOW, HM?!”Eshu chuckles and says in a more sweet yet casual tone, “My friend, you’re not a monster. Humans were naturally born selfish, what’s wrong with a man being in tune with his nature? I’m such a man, myself.”

  The women turn focus towards Eshu, then say with smiles on their faces, “Just because this isn’t your trial, doesn’t mean you’re free of judgement. Why do you want godhood, hm? You admitted yourself, you’re selfish and only the just earn this right. Do you just want to rob someone else of the right? Or perhaps to test yourself? Or maybe to given your life meaning?” The women all collectively lean into Eshu and his eyes look down, his body language getting less comfortable. The confidence in his voice lessened and quiet, still trying to cling to a bit of playfulness, “You’ve got the wrong guy, that’s all Babalú-Ayé. I just came for the show. You can proceed with your ridiculing. Hell, I’ll join in if you wa-“

  The woman speak louder, “Perhaps you’re sick of having to trick yourself into caring? All those women you’ve pretended to love, all those friends you pretended to cherish, all those you tricked yourself into respecting. So much hate, so much anger.” They pin him against the chair, “How hollow are you, boy?”