Maliha

The beating of drums seemed to be an extension of the tribe. The soulful thuds vibrating through their essence and moving the tribes people. Arms swaying and heads twisting as the flames at the fire pit screeched to the sky.

Feet thumped in time to each thudding hand, dust and sand rising in a cloud as hips twisted and voices climbed higher.

Maliha stood in a position of respect, her eyes wide with wonder as the life in her arms shifted in interest. Her skin was draped in a white ruffled dress that had feathers protruding from its shoulders, around her waist clinched tightly was a thick brown belt with stitching of fiery flames. Her short hair was adorned with the few golden jewels they could clip into the growing tresses. White clay markings were slashed along her cheek in a line on each side and two white lines along her chin.

To her left sat Nahi in a short backed wooden chair, rosy cheeks coloured white with the same white clay on her face. She looked healthy though her body had only begun its recovery.

Nahi’s skin was adorned in the finest materials, feathers plucked and died in rich colours of yellow red and green, were draped over her shoulders. Her hair was sleeked back into intricate twists and braids, her hair shining with the gold beads and cuffs that adorned her hair.

Abazz stood behind her with a thick feather belt in the same colours wrapped around his waist, his hair adorned with the same gold jewellery. His face was a mask of white patterns, brushes dipped in pure white clay created symbols along his dark skin. The couple looked ferocious, Nahi’s chin jutted in determination though it had only been a few hours since her and her babies had had been seen to by their healer.

To Nahi’s left stood Ujarak with the baby boy in his hand, Enzo clasping his free hand tightly. Ujarak’s head was adorned in a crown of feathers that reached to the heavens and glowed in the paling morning light. He wore fitted black trousers, but his chest and face were covered in line after line of white clay markings, each symbol and sign having a meaning that Maliha could not understand.

Gifts lined their feet as the tribe stomped around, hands waving to an ancient dance. Words chanted over as bodies rocked well into the early hours of the morning. As the music hit a crescendo

The sun peaked its way through the dark sky until the night was being forced into its dwelling for the rising of another morning.

Ujarak placed the new born into Enzo’s arms before he stepped forwards, his hands raised above his head as the tribe came to a hush at his signal.

“Ma Savuriya Yahsolik,” he shouted, his hands waving towards them.

“Yahsolik,” they called back, words like a chorus as men and women alike began screeching with their hands pointed to the light. Their hands clapping and feet stomping as they chanted the word again and again.

“T’la,” and they listened, eyes keen as they waited for what he would say next.

“We are here this day to celebrate the naming of the newest members of our tribe.”

The tribe shouted back the chant again, their voices calling as the drums banged and their bodies swayed.

The hair on Maliha’s skin rose as the music and chants travelled through her, tears gliding down her cheeks as their calls moved her from deep within.

Nahi glowed under their calls her skin the most radiant Maliha had seen it.

The holy woman stepped forward with a pure white bowl with sticks and hay inside. Her back hunched with old age as set the bowl near Nahi’s feet. Pulling a small pouch from her pocket, she sprinkled ashes inside the bowl and chanted over it, her body rocking back and forth on her knees.

“Have you chosen their names?”

Abazz gripped Nahi’s shoulders in a supportive gesture before nodding yes.

“Maliha, Enzo,” called Ujarak, motioning for them to step closer to the fire.

He squatted low, praying over the bowl and running his fingers over the sticks and ashes. Steam rose from where his fingers touched, small flickers of orange light rising until the bowl was encased in flames.

Stepping away from the fire, Ujarak’s amber eyes met Maliha’s before he turned to Abazz and Nahi.

“Set them into the eternal bowl.”

Climbing to her feet, Nahi and Abazz made their way a few steps to the blazing bowl, revealing two small squares of scripts that had the children’s name written on them.

Nahi flicked her square into the fire followed by Abazz. The flames kindled high into the sky, a purple haze flicking through the orange flames. Breaths halted, they waited for the thick smoke of the dying fire to trail into the sky.

A harsh gust of wind whipped across Maliha’s face, the force so strong all the fires gushed out. The sound of crackling wood dying a quick death and silence ringing in her ears.

One by one they flickered back to life, all the fires rekindled except for the small white bowl that had begun to turn a deep brown colour. Ujarak picked the bowl up, his fingers pushing through the ashes until he pulled out two small squares of parchment.

The holy woman took the empty bowl from Ujarak’s hands and sieved the ashes from the bowl, mixing it with oil until a thick black paste was created.

“Yahsolik, Yahsolik,” she chanted, words catching on the wind and carrying into the bright orange sky, a hundred voices echoing her chants.

Maliha found herself joining in their calls even though she had no idea what she called. The words brought a peace to her being, they made her feel light. As if the sun was anointing her with its shining light.

The drums picked back up, banging like thunder as Ujarak took the new born boy from Enzo’s hands and passed him to Nahi. Maliha followed his lead and gave the girl to her mother before she took her place on their right.

“Savuriya has heard our bids and has granted the newest members of our tribes their names.”

“Daughter and son of Nahi and Abazz, shall be called Namali and Kanu, after the first children of our tribe,” his hand struck high as he waved the two parchments in the air.

Voices screeched in wonderment and joy, feet and hands clapping at the holy names bestowed upon the newest children in their tribe.

The holy woman marked both children’s foreheads with a symbol of the sun from the ashes she had collected from the eternal bowl. Her palm pressed against little Namali’s chest causing the baby to cry, the tribe cheered at her wails. Their cheers growing louder when the action was repeated and Kanu’s cries joined his sisters.

“It is done,” called Ujarak, before he took his niece and nephew from Nahi’s arms and handed Namali to Maliha while he kept Kanu in his hands.

“Follow me.”

Maliha stepped forwards, Ujarak at her side as they brought the children to Enzo.

Big mossy eyes stared up at them in awe.

“Give them light,” murmured Ujarak.

Nodding his head, Enzo placed his hands along their chest and closed his eyes in prayer.

“Yahsolik” he hummed, before stepping back.

Then they took the children to the tribe, hands stretching wide as they placed their palms all over the children’s bodies. Hands batting at each other as each palm brought with it a heat that Maliha could feel radiating through Namali’s small body.

When each member had given their blessing to the children, they were returned to their parents.

The night completely disappearing as the sun finally crested across the sky.

——

The tribe continued their celebration throughout the day. Chores abandoned as the Der Surjaz people feasted on the foods that had been prepared the night before.

Drink sloshed along full stomachs as each person one by one stepped forwards and gave their blessings to the new parents. Nahi’s radiance had begun to fade, her call for sleep growing as the ripened sun began to dwindle. Abazz took her to their tent, employing Maliha and Ujarak to stay with the babies until he returned to get them.

Maliha’s toes burned by the fire, her cheeks turning ruddy with heat as she swayed the delicate baby in her arms. Big blue eyes staring up at her, her belly was full from her mother’s milk and so Namali was calm now.

“How does it feel to know your tribe is safe now,” murmured Maliha, her eyes glued to Namali even as she spoke to Ujarak.

“Safe?” He questioned quizzically.

“Yes, safe. Now that you have a female to succeed your bloodline your tribe will prosper, néh?”

Her gaze was too focussed on the life in her arms that she did not notice the look Ujarak shot her.

“No, Namali will never be Sujurrah of this tribe though her birth is a good sign that our Sujurrah is near.”

“Sujurrah?” Head tilting in confusion.

“Yes, we are the people of light and our true leader is our Sujurrah. It means true light.”

“Well why isn’t Namali or Nahi your Sujurrah? If the line of succession is always female, then surely she should lead and not you?”

His face turned sour at her words, nose wrinkling with distaste.

“Nahi and Namali will never be the Sujurrah because their mother was not one. Nahi’s mother was my father’s Knar whilst my mother was his Solah and our Sujurrah.”

“Well how do you know who she is?” Replied Maliha, her lips pursing.

It made no sense how a man could just decide who was and wasn’t the true ruler of the tribe, because ultimately it was the man who chose. Unless they believed each woman, was anointed by the goddess, in which case Maliha wondered how did they know? She doubted they threw the woman into a fire pit to see if she was spared or not.

“In my father’s last days, he told me that he knew the moment he met my mother that she was his Sujurrah. He said there was a fire in her that he kindled his flames,” he spat his father’s words as if they were filth, disgust radiating from his being as he regurgitated his father’s beliefs.

“What do you believe?” Her words gentle, as she looked to him with no judgement.

“I believe what I can read and our scriptures state that every Sujurrah is a descendent of the first female warrior and protector of the innocent, Solayka. Are you familiar with her story Maliha?”

“No”

“No,” gasped Enzo in shock, his big eyes bulging as he leaned into Maliha’s face.

“Easy there,” chuckled Ujarak, pushing Enzo further back into his seat.

“Do you know the story of Savuriya?” The little boy asked, peering up at her as if she were some foreign animal or object.

“Some but she is your goddess here, not every tribe worships her” she shrugged.

“And for not worshiping her they damn themselves,” snapped Ujarak adjusting Kanu in his arms and making sure he was still sound asleep.

Namali was still awake but the heat from the fire was slowly making her drowsy, her little lids drooping closed and then popping back open. Her little lips puckering up adorably.

“Tell the tale” chortled Enzo, his hands clapping excitedly when Ujarak nodded in agreement.

"Our goddess, Savuriya, the creator of life and the bringer of light, bloomed from a flower bud. From the light of its essence she created realms, humans and creatures, but from the flowers decaying vessel came the god Najrati. Her antithesis.

She reigned in the sky eternally while the god Najrati had no reign as he could not create any being that would worship him. As centuries passed Savuriya became bored with her life, loneliness filling her essence. One day as she watched her creations grow with-child and give birth, she decided that she wanted a child of her own. She collected the constellations from a hundred cosmos and forged them together to create her son, Pathikyo”

“The wanderer,” gasped Maliha knowing that the Feri tribe believed and worshiped this god. Believing that the superior creature, the panther was the sacred animal of Pathikyo and Manatu.

“Yes, he was the first of his kind. A master of forms. He could shift from a panther to a draganir and back all without blinking,”

The fire flickered around them as more people took seats around the fire. Xiuri sinking into a chair and then jumping lightly when Kamir sat beside her.

“For the first few years he was content to stay with his mother but as he grew older the constellations that made up his being, divided him and called for him to travel the realms and so he did.

He left Savuriya’s light and travelled for years until he fell upon a human civilisation where he met and fell in love with- ”

“Solayka, the first Sujurrah,” shouted Enzo excitedly. His hand clapping over his mouth when Kanu screeched his dislike of the abrupt noise.

“Sorry,” he whispered, abashedly nestling his head into Maliha’s shoulder until Kanu was settled.

“In a mad and furious rage, Savuriya split the pallet where Pathikyo and his new wife Solayka lay, forcing the couple to be divided by worlds and oceans. Some say Savuriya took his essence and her light from Pathikyo, making him mortal and stopping him from shifting forms.”

“So sad,” hummed Xiuri rubbing at her chest in pain. Maliha had to agree that to be ripped apart from the person you loved by your mother was the worst sort of pain a person could face.

“Abandoned and alone Pathikyo turned to Najrati for help. He promised to return Pathikyo to his wife if he gave him what was left of his life essence,”

“No!” Cried Maliha, her heart thumping with pain.

“Yes, Maliha and because he loved his wife, Pathikyo agreed even though he knew it was a trap,” replied Ujarak solemnly.

“He was reunited with his wife for all of one day before Najrati claimed his life in the arms of his wife.

Grief stricken Solayka prayed to Savuriya, her chants of Yahsolik eventually gaining the goddesses attention.”

“What does Yahsolik mean,” queried Maliha, so embedded in the tale but also curious why that chant seemed resonated so deeply within herself and the tribe.

“Yahsolik literally translates to “bring light” or “illuminate us” but it is used as a bid to the goddess for her blessing or help,” croaked the holy woman, her deep mahogany skin weathered by years of age and wisdom.

Sinking into a seat around the fire, she poked the fire with her stick causing the flames to soar deep into the sky and then there in the flames appeared the image of a woman on her knees praying.

“Makula, will you tell the rest?”

“It would be this old woman’s pleasure to tell the tale of the Der Surjaz” she smiled, leathered skin dimpling.

“After Savuriya heard of her son’s misfortune, she pleaded with the Najrati to release her son back to her, but he was reluctant to give Pathikyo’s essence up and instead created a maze of tortures for Savuriya to find her son. He gave her one full cycle of her realm to find him in the lost maze or loose both herself and her son to Najrati’s will.”

“She agreed,” murmured Maliha, truly enraptured by the story of heartbreak and she hoped redemption.

“She did,” hummed Makula. “But before Savuriya left the world, taking her light with her, she gave Solayka a part of her essence. Allowing Solayka the ability to create light and control the elements”

“Savuriya suffered the tortures of Najrati’s mind for three hundred and sixty-four days, returning Pathikyo to the realm of the light and living on the three hundredth and sixty fifth day. By the time Savuriya returned back to her realm her hold on the light had weakened, allowing Najrati and all his terrors to plague the lands at night.”

The fire snuffed out harshly causing all the children and even Maliha too scream loudly. The noise so loud the two sleeping babies woke screeching.

Namali wailed her heart out, fist waving in the air as her cries rivalled her brothers.

“Thank you for reminding us of our ancestry Makula but is seems our Namali and Kanu want their mother,” chuckled Ujarak, bouncing the screaming baby in his arms.

Maliha climbed to her feet and waved everyone goodnight as she followed Ujarak to Nahi’s tent. Her mind still whirling with the tale they had told her and trying to piece together all that had not been said.

“Ujarak.”

“Yes Maliha,” he mumbled, peering over his shoulder.

“Is the Sujurrah a descendent of Kanu or Namali?”

“Namali. She left the tribe and married a wanderer. Her children scatter the seven realms, but all of the chosen ones carry Savuriya’s essence.”

Her head nodded in understanding before followed behind him.

She wondered if the Der Surjaz actually believed they could manipulate nature.

Surely, they didn’t believe they were descendants of elementals and shape shifters, did they?

————