Mansa Azikiwe (a-ZI-KI-way), god of order, was not pleased with how his young earth was turning out. His people we hungry. They did not know how to plant crops, only how to hunt. Now, Mansa Azikiwe loved his precious animals so much, they were almost like children to him. The gods were worried, up in their giant baobab tree, Mbuyu Mkubwa.

"Mansa Azikiwe," his wife, Kenyada Oyenusi (o-YEN-ooh-see), goddess of justice, pleaded, "our people are suffering. They live in misery."

"My wife, our people have turned to killing my animals. They refuse to respect the life I have created on our earth."

"I don't want my baby to be born into this world; I don't want her to have to deal with our problems," she cried.

"Now, now, Kenyada, I'm sure our people will have figured themselves out by the time she is born," he assured her.

Months passed. The people refused to fix their problems. Soon, their daughter was born. She came with a surprise, a twin brother.

"Since our people do not have their chaos at bay, I name my daughter Kichaka, goddess of endings. She will properly discipline my people since my wife refuses."

Twelve years later, Kichaka (kee-CHA-ka) was finally ready. She published an announcement reading, Every person between fifty and one-hundred years will have their life taken away from them. Furthermore, everyone who engages in killing Mansa Azikiwe's animals will have their life taken away from them. With no way to grow crops, the people rebelled, killing over half of the gods' animals. Kichaka went on a killing spree. The people had never faced death before they were not scared of this girl. But Kichaka was trained well, she struck them down will no hesitation. Soon, the people cowered in front of her and hid when she came close. Her robes soaked with blood, Kichaka sought a fabric that would not soil. Kichaka journeys to her twin, Falagi (fah-LAH-gee), god of plants and growth, who resided in the Garden of Etr (EE-ther).

"Falagi, dear brother. I seek a material dark enough to hide the bloodstains."

Falagi shuddered,

"Yes, my sister. I will help you. Perhaps you could harness the sky to drape across your shoulders," he suggested. This was a time before the oceans and the sky were shimmering light blue. There was no day, only night; and the seas lacked coloring in their clear waters.

"Alright, I'll try. Falagi, grow me a tree, will you? A tree that stretches far into the heavens."

Falagi waved his hands and a sapling sprouted from the ground and shot into the sky.

"There," he said as his hands stopped moving.

Kichaka turned without a thank you and started to climb. She climbed for days. Hands stretching to the next branch until the branches stopped appearing. Kichaka sat on a particularly sturdy branch to catch her breath. When she stopped panting, she reached out and took hold of the sky. She tugged, and tugged, and tugged until the sky came loose and tumbled into her hands. Kitchaka bundled up the sky and strapped it to her back. She then twisted and squeezed her old cape until all the blood ran into the sky, creating the sunset.

She reached the ground a day later. Kitchaka cut her robes, a deep midnight blue, and draped the leftover sky across the ocean, giving the seas their distinctive blue coloring. She wandered through the garden, searching for her brother.

"Falagi!" she called. He appeared in the trees, covered in blood.

"Sister! Oh, I'm so pleased to see you! You won't believe what happened to me!" he cried.

"What happened to you, oh, brother of mine!"

"I was visiting the human settlement when twenty humans shoved me into a pool of their brothers' and sister's blood! They said that it was my fault that there were no animals left for them to hunt! Oh, sister, you have to do something!"

Kichaka thought for a moment before concluding,

"I will lower the age. I will lower the age for my killings. I will lower it to between thirty and one-hundred years."

"Kichaka! You mustn't! They will be even angrier!"

No, Falagi, they will be fearful. They will cower at the sight of me. I will keep them in line. For father."

She left for the human settlement a few hours later. When she arrived, the town was empty. Kichaka looked everywhere for the humans. They had deserted their houses and shops.

They were warned, she thought. Falagi! He must have tipped them off! Kichaka clenched her fists and traveled home to the baobab tree, in shame.

"Father, Mansa Azikiwe!" she cried, bowing before his golden throne. "Falagi has betrayed me! He wants the humans to live! He wants to deprive me of my calling!"

"Let me think on this. You are dismissed, my daughter."

Soon, the residents of the giant baobab tree caught word from Mansa Azikiwe's brother, that the humans had learned to plant crops. Mansa Azikiwe called Kenyada into his chambers.

"My wife, what do you propose we do?" he asked.

"Well, I for one am delighted that Falagi has solved the problem. I don't think any action needs to be taken against our people; they haven't killed your animals since," she replied.

Kichaka, on the other hand, was furious. She couldn't believe that her brother would do such a thing as to help the humans. The gods loved the humans, but they were above them. They had been granted the gift to govern the humans strictly and fairly. For them to be able to grow their own crops mean that the humans didn't rely on the gods as much anymore.

Kichaka voyaged to the Garden of Etr in search of her brother.

"Falagi! Come down from that tree and face me, you cowardly human!"

Falagi peeked out from behind a branch.

"Sister! What a surprise!" he cried, shaking with fear.

"Ah, brother. I see that fear has indeed taken you over. And you thought fear wouldn't keep them in line!" she scoffed. "Come down here right now!"

When he finally climbed down from the tree, Kichaka walked towards him and embraced him. She pulled back, reaching down to her pants, and in one smooth motion, pulled out a dagger and slid its shining blade into her brother's stomach. His screams pierced the night air, ending abruptly, a moment later.

Kichaka continued to discipline the humans, as a punishment to Falagi, who was locked up in the roots of the baobab tree for all eternity.