Long ago, when the world was first created, the seas were pure and the land was fertile. There were two neighboring villages that stood near the coast, known as the Western and Eastern villages. For centuries, these two villages had lived in harmony. Over time, however, their differing systems of beliefs began to clash. The first sign of trouble was dwindling trade. Then, the arguments began. Old friends became enemies. War was eminent, yet the gods remained idle.

Chaos ruled the heavens. Though the Creators, Adroa and Nzambi had commanded their children, the gods and goddesses of Africa, to maintain celestial and Earthly peace their commandments had fallen upon deaf ears. Bickering and fighting ran rampant amongst their children. This left the Creators little time to tend to Earthly concerns. As a result, the couple carelessly neglected the Western and Eastern villages.

Soko, the youngest son and god of witchcraft, took note of his parents' distraction and seized the opportunity to engage his brother Olorun, caretaker of the East. Gazing down upon the Eastern village, Soko studied the humans as they prepared for war. Initially, he was amused by their antics; the careful plotting; the construction of weapons, but he soon grew bored. So with the twitch of a finger, he launched a venomous arrow and watched casually as a villager collapsed, writhed in pain, and died.

Olorun, the elder and god of truth and foresight, noticed his brother's evil actions and growled with rage. He favored the beings of the Eastern village, and quite disliked his sibling. As an act of revenge, he set the crops of the Western village ablaze.

Soko, now disinterested in watching the humans of the Eastern village rushing about in disarray, turned his attention to the Western village. His eyes alit with anger. With a great wave of his arm, rain immediately doused the raging fire. Still fuming, he spotted Olorun laughing with glee. Instantly, Soko identified the perpetrator and strode forward to confront him.

"Ah! Soko, what seems to be the problem? You seem a little...hot," Olorun chuckled.

Soko's eyes narrowed and soon a dark aura out lined his body. Olorun was not intimidated by the unspoken threat. He knew that his little brother would not dare harm him, otherwise he would be punished. Olorun continued to laugh, which only spurred Soko on. "It was YOU, wasn't it?" Soko growled, forcing a tendril of darkness to wrap itself around Olorun's ankle, "You're the one who set the crops of the Western village ablaze!"

Olorun frowned at the unyielding tendril that clutched his ankle. With a slight jab of his finger, it recoiled. "Let me ask you a question, brother dearest; was it not you who killed the poor soldier of the Eastern village?"

The inky tendrils of darkness became still, and then retreated to Soko. Soko smirked at his brother, "Ah, yes," he admitted, his words dripping with venom. "That poor, poor soldier! The arrow was tipped with Black Mamba. It does bear toxin like no other! Certainly made things more interesting..."

Olorun's eyes ignited as he realized what Soko meant. He opened his mouth, and out spewed flames of fury. Fire, after all, was his favorite element. The flames were quick and as hot as his hatred. They sped toward Soko, but before they could engulf him Soko lashed out and extinguished their pursuit.

"You should mind your temper dear brother, or else you might harm someone." "Father and mother frown on such behavior," Soko smiled, teeth gleaming sharp and dangerous.

"By the way, shouldn't you be paying more attention to that village of yours, Olorun? We can all feel the tension in the air. Those two villages will be at war soon, and if you don't pay attention, the Eastern village may all fall prey to the Mamba!"

"They will not lose!" Olorun shouted in fury. "The Eastern village is wiser and stronger than the Western village. They need not fear fools who look towards witchcraft as a way of life!"

The air cooled noticeably. Soko preferred the cold. Olorun was unaffected. Gods could not be harmed by mere temperature. Olorun frowned at the clouds beneath his feet. They were starting to materialize quickly. "You will not belittle my village," Soko hissed. He resembled a snake more and more by the minute. "They are skilled in witchcraft, and they will have me as their aide. WE will prevail, while you and your fortunetellers whither beneath our feet."

"Oh really my brother?" Olorun inquired sarcastically, "Then too shall participate in the war. We will settle this on the battlefield. The surviving village will serve as proof as to which of us is superior.

Soko bared his teeth at Olorun. Olorun simply grimaced as Soko replied, "Just tell me when and where, brother," a forked, black tongue darted out as he hissed, "You are the one with the foresight. Enchant me with the future."

"At the strip of beach separating the two villages, the battle will start, and we shall meet in the middle of the sea to battle each other."

"Oh?" Soko asked mockingly, "Why the middle of the sea?"

A sneer formed upon Olorun's face, "Father will not notice. He does not bother with the sea, or did you forget?"

Soko just laughed. "You and I both know Adroa is very powerful, if he does notice, the end will come to us both."

"Father will discern it as a change in the weather, nothing will happen," After a moment of pause, Olorun smirked at Soko, "Are you afraid brother?"

"Afraid? Ha! I would never fear you!" with that Soko departed, leaving a mist of darkness and a promise, "I'll be waiting."

True to his word, Soko was the first to arrive on the battle field. Olorun appeared immediately after looking slightly annoyed. On the beach the soldiers from each village had already gathered. At the blare of the vuvuzela, the two sides attacked one other. Olorun studied closely, comprehending the events and telepathically communicating with the humans of the Eastern village. They ignored his advice, leery of the mysterious voice in their heads.

Soko laughed in delight as he helped the Western village perfect their witchcraft. Olorun, frustrated by Soko's laughs and the casualties of the Eastern village, let out a howl of rage. An enormous amount of fire flared toward Soko, It was met with a tsunami of water. As the two elements collided steam emerged. It floated towards the heavens, where it immediately alerted Nzambi.

She drifted down from the heavens as fast as she could. When she arrived, she was met by an abundance of flames. She countered it with a strong gust of wind, but was suddenly engulfed by a wave. She was thrown beneath the surface where water filled her lungs, and doused any remaining oxygen. When she arose to the surface, gasping for air, fire came blazing from Olorun, who had yet sensed the presence of his mother. The fire burned off her ebony locks, and slowly ate at her dark skin. She cried at her sons to stop, but they could not see her amidst the chaos that surrounded them.

The two brothers, finally hearing the cries of their mother stopped immediately, but it was too late. Adroa had discovered them and was furious. He, being enraged by the harm done to his beloved wife, unleashed powerful gusts of wind toward the battle of his two sons. The two, worried they would be banished or worse, decided to work together in hope of stopping their father. Adroa, determined to punish his sons, kept on throwing gusts of winds which soon grew into twisters. Not only did these twisters harm Olorun and Soko but their mother too. She was going to be destroyed along with them.

The brothers fought back in hopes of keeping the twisters at bay, but ultimately failed. In a final attempt to stop their father and help Nzambi, they joined hands and released all of their power. Once unleashed from the brothers' control the elements were unstoppable. Olorun and Soko, still grasping each other's hands found they could not release each other without causing what was left of their mother more pain. Even if she was just an eye the boys loved their mother more than anything. They would not let her be destroyed because of their foolish actions.

Adroa seeing his sons protect his wife from the monster storm they created stopped his gusts of wind. Once he ceased he saw the extent of the storm and how it continued to grow. To his dismay, he had no clue how to end the storm. The brothers, from their positions around Nzambi, were unable to even try to end the storm. As the storm drew near the two villages Nzambi used the last of her strength to cast a spell only she was able to do.

"I call on wind, water, and fire,

To heed my word of peace,

and do as I desire;

I demand all that there is for I am the queen,

none shall fight, argue, or even be mean;

Unless chaos is what you choose,

you will not be the one to lose;

For the center is free,

of the surrounding calamity;

But if you ever choose to betray,

These words will not give you another day!"

Her words were true, for the storm swallowed the two villages into its center but they were unharmed. The surrounding growths and beaches suffered as they did not receive protection. The two villages were amazed as well as the other gods and goddess by what had occurred. From then on the storm was called a hurricane. What became of the brothers after the elements settled were their own decisions. They decided to serve their mother in her recovery since the aided in her pain and suffering. As saddened as Adroa was to be separated from his wife he understood she needed to heal. He became stern with his command over his other children to ensure they would never again break the peace. Sometimes though, he was unable to control them. Their fights and arguments never lasted as Nzambi's great hurricane would blast one of their favorite villages into oblivion if they did quarrel. All would learn, once and for all, that fights lead to nothing but destruction and suffering.