Maliha

Present day

Maliha sat under the palm tree, her back resting against the rough edges as she smashed open a coconut and drank the cool liquid. Cracking a few more open she continued to drink languidly. Flicking out her blade that she carried on her hip, she began cutting the fruit into chunks. Eating some as she continued to cut away.

When she had diced the coconut chunks, she fumbled around in her bag and took out a loaf of bread. Smothering it with chunks of coconut. The two foods did not complement each other well but it was all she had as of now.

She had followed the water down the mountain and into the marshlands where it rained for months. The earth was so wet from the rain everything was swamp and mud. Getting though that land was harder than climbing down the glacial mountains. She had thought she was prepared for the change of weather that came with the differing climates, but it had been quite a shock to see how unprepared she was. The relentless wet had soaked her clothes through giving her body a different type of chill then what was found in the mountains.

When she had reached the outskirts of the swamp she had met a small tribe who had taught her many things. Like how to make arrows from twigs and other miscellaneous objects. The Yahul tribe also taught her how to shoot, skin and cook a bird, along with various types of cloth making. She had stayed with them for four whole moons before she continued her journey.

She hadn’t known where she was heading but her feet continued to carry her from tribe to tribe where she had learnt more and more about the world.

Each tribe had adapted to their surroundings. The most creative were the Feri tribe who lived in the huge trees of the black jungle. The jungle was named aptly for its tall trees that had long sweeping leaves that hung like blankets. No sunlight graced the jungle and so it was in eternal darkness until night came and the leaves curled up letting through slithers of pale moonlight. The plants and creatures had adapted to their surroundings in the ways that nature demanded. Everything was nocturnal in that jungle, the ray of the moon brought life as opposed to the sun.

In the black jungle one could not see the Feri tribes’ homes when they walked on the ground. The moment she had stepped foot in their jungle they had climbed from tree to tree like panthers. Chasing her like a ghost riding the wind. Their bodies unseen to the human eye, and their sounds hardly penetrable to her ears. She had run through the jungle from this unknown entity, her moves frantic as she sweated and panted in fear of the phantom feeling of being watched.

The sight of a small girl standing by a river had stopped her in her tracks, so much so that she had been shocked when she had been shot by the same girl.

Maliha had stayed with them for nine full moons and it was the best tribe she had stayed with. They had taught her the ways of poisons, child birth and child rearing. She had mastered how to climb the trees like panthers, though she was not all that quiet. Most importantly they had taught her about her inner self. The voice of her conscience that could be tapped into with enough awareness and control. That was something only the wise elders had mastered. Many it had taken a lifetime to even reach half of their inner self, but they had put her on her journey of self-discovery.

Her journey that had started due to bitterness and escape had turned into a learning curb. That tribe had given her so much without realising it.

Yet she still did not feel the call for home or belonging. The tribes in which she found comfort had been ideal places to settle but she had not felt that feeling, the soothing serenity of knowing you belonged. So, she continued to wander over the planes of the land.

She had stayed with several tribes, some she stayed long periods of time with and others only days. Her lust for wandering had continued to run as had the water of the river. In parts it had dwindled to a tiny stream that would trickle over the rocks, in a slow and steady sway. Whilst in other parts of the land, such as the black jungle it was a large and ferocious river with waterfalls and rocks. Large fish swimming in its depths and even larger animals grazing at its side.

The river continued to run free as did Maliha, until she reached this unknown land. The river had submerged into the land a long while ago. Drying up along the rough sandy stones of the dessert she travelled in.

The palm tree she sat along was the first sign of life and shelter she had seen in days. It’s protection from the overbearing sun came when she needed it most. She craved rest in order to rejuvenate her body and mind. Sitting under the trees dipping leaves, sheltered her from the severe rays of the sun. Stopping her skin from blistering in the heat.

Her skin had already browned into a dirty colour, that was smothered with dust and grime. The brown streaks from the sun and her own dirt, added age to Maliha. Making her look old and withered with growth. Which was just as well. A young woman of her age travelling alone was susceptible to certain behaviours an old woman would not be.

Tilting her head back as she munched on the cool fruit and her dry bread, Maliha felt her eyes beginning to close. The heat had wiped out all her energy, causing her to fall in a deep sleep quicker than usual. Her lids fluttering as she dreamed of a distant land where the water ran constant. Lush fruits and plants for her to devour.

//--//

The cool air swishing around her face was what first woke Maliha. The wind whistled in her ear and the slight chill was a much-needed respite from the previous temperature. The sound of sand shuffling above her and hooves clattering against the dry ground was the catalyst to get her moving.

Her eyes fluttered open to see that the sun had set, and the stars had begun to rise, glistening like tiny beacons above her. She sat up as she took in her surroundings, in her deep state of slumber she had moved to lay across the ground without waking.

The earth continued to quake, and the sand around her continued to rise as a sandstorm headed in her direction. The air became unbearably hot as the sand and dust swirled around in the distance. Forming a large cloud of greyness against the dark planes of the sky. Maliha could barely make out dark silhouettes against the daunting storm.

She wasn’t sure if she could trust her sight, as the dessert was known for its trickery and mocking. It could merely be a mirage, sent out to give her hope. Sorcery that would fill her heart with such profound optimism she would cry with joy, thinking she would be saved from the deceiving dessert. The sandstorm twisting about drew closer to her body, the storm howling and rattling across the ground.

Maliha flung her scarf over her head to protect her face from the flying dust. The airborne particles smacking into her body and beating across her skin. The force so strong it fell her body backwards until she was pushed against the palm tree at her back.

The sand settling on her clothes as the storm slowed its tumultuous movements. The cacophony of noise quietening into an abrupt hush. She waved her hand in front of her to remove the dust and dirt from the air. The fog of the sand still lingered before her and her eyes were blurry from stray particles entering it.

Swiping across her face and shoving her hair back Maliha caught sight of a fuzzy figure. The figure multiplied and multiplied until her vision became clear and she could see that a large number of people stood before her. At least 10, of what she assumed were both men and women based on their heights.

They wore scarves around their heads and faces, some tied in intricate patterns and swooping across their mouths. The only features visible was the copper of their noses and eyes, showing their deeply tanned skin. Their arms were draped in short cloaks and their legs wrapped in thin trousers that hung loosely on their hips.

Maliha pulled her scarf tighter around her face to shield her appearance from these people who stood before her like ghouls in the night. Faceless, daunting figurines. They stood there for a good while analysing her as she did the same. Multiple eyes flickering over her purposely hunched body. Then a voice broke through the unnerving silence.

“You are on our land” one of the faceless people shouted. Their statement met with a series of grunts of agreement and approval. Their eyes sharpening in reproach.

“I apologise; I am but a wanderer”

Her voice came out croaky from the dryness of the storm getting stuck in her throat. The weakened timbre of her voice served well in the part she played. With the scarf wrapped around her head and her face withered from the dirt and sun, she would look at least thirty years her senior. She could fool these people into treating her like the respected elderly if she continued her ruse.

With a subtle nod, the people began closing in on her. One of their hands reaching out to grab her as the others pulled at her bag. Two men grabbed her from either side of her arms and lifted her body into the air. Her feet scrapping against the hard rocks as they dragged her towards mist that was forming behind them.

“What are you doing? I’m elderly...”

Her arms had stiffened as she tried to hold back her bodies response to kick and scream. If she gave into her bodies demand they would realise that she was not elderly. Her strength would assure them of this, giving them prompts to her exact age.

So, she purposely tensed her body, but pulled lightly to show she wasn’t going to give up.

“Be silent, we will take you to our Drezir... He will decide what to do with you.” Grumbled the same voice who had first approached her. Maliha figured that he was the current leader of this band of people. She wasn’t too sure what a Drezir was, it was an unfamiliar term. She imagined it would be the equivalent to what a Razi is, though she wasn’t positive.

“I mean no harm; I just want to continue my journey.”

She quivered, adding an extra waiver to her voice as she tried to encourage them to leave her be. She almost felt bad about deceiving them, but these people gave off a negative vibe. One that had her resorting to behaviours that she typically disagreed with. It could be the fact that their faces were shrouded from her sight, in thick scarves, leaving their identity unanswered. Or maybe it was the way they had manhandled her without hearing her out, as if she was a nuisance they wished to dispose of.

“You caused harm when you ate the fruits of Der Surjaz land.” His chest rumbled as they dragged her body violently toward the animals standing nearby.

Maliha felt her body quivering as it struck home who she was in presence of. The Der Surjaz tribe had been rumoured to be descendants of the Sun Goddess Savuriya, the creator of the 12 realms. The same goddess who had gifted her straying son with the essence of fire in battle.

The tribe was known for their use of wielding the elements from thin air, manipulating nature to suit their battle. Some had the ability to disappear into the wind.

The tribe was highly revered by the gods and were given lands full of flowing waters, supple meets and luscious fruits. The land was described as paradise compared to the overbearing climates each tribe had. The Der Surjaz were favoured by the gods. So alike in their crafting, they held the same ferocity and ruthlessness the gods of old were infamous for.

If the myths about this feared tribe were true, then the sand storms that had awoken her had a new meaning.

Maliha was roughly gripped in one man’s arm as the other climbed atop the large beast. The animal resembling what they called a horse in the Melikit tribe lands, only this one had additional legs. Six instead of four. It stood taller than any animal she had ever witnessed, making the tumble from the grounds one that would surely break bones.

The man holding her, threw her to the man seated atop the enchanted animal, flinging her body around like she was a rag doll. His big beefy arms trapped her between his body, making no escape possible.

“I think Uja will like her.”

Chuckled one of the many voices, prompting people to shout out lewd comments in agreement. Their words filled with vulgarity about all the ways in which Uja would plough into her. Rip her to shreds and feed her to the lions.

They spoke of his alleged virility and all the women he had taken before her, some even sharing their accounts with the untameable beast. A man who had taken four women at a time. A man whose rod was so thick and long it rivalled that of his animal.

Her eyes burned with suppressed tears in fear at what would become her fate. She had realised Maliha when it was too late to escape that they had sussed out her deceit form the very beginning. They had ushered her along as if they actually believed her ruse, when all along they had known.

Her stiff body became lax as she tried to slide through the arms of the man who held her, it was to no avail. His arms were securely encased around her like a snake clung to its prey, asphyxiating its food to near death before the viper swallowed it whole. They were cunning little dessert snakes making their move on her before she even realised she was being hunted.

There would be no fooling this tribe, they were too smart to be fooled by the pretences of a woman who had not even reached her prime age.

“Uja will eat you alive” came the stale breath of the man above her shoulder, his voice deep and grating from the grit of the sand.

Maliha sent her elbow back into his chest, the bone thudding against his sturdy chest causing her more pain than him. She yanked her elbow forwards and sent it back into his body again, this time lower. His sharp grunt of pain let her know that she had reached her mark on his stomach.

Clucking with pride, her teeth clicked together as she snarled at him, her fear hidden behind her well-built facade.

The horseman grunted again as he shook the rains of his beast sending the animal into motion. The animals six legs pounded so fast against the ground it was as if they were hovering above the ground and not riding on the earth.

The thundering hooves of the animal’s legs caused a foggy sheen of dust to rise above them. The particles choking Maliha as they settled down her throat. Leaning over the animal she coughed out what felt like her whole stomachs contents, until the man behind her shoved a scarf into her hands out of annoyance.

She flung the scarf around her mouth and nose, protecting her orifices from the harsh shards of sand.

The animals fast speed sent her mind into a lull, encouraging her to rest her head against the heavy body behind her. She fought the demand as much as she could, leaning further over the animal in an attempt to distance herself.

Her back kept rocking with every gallop of the animal, pushing her further and further into her seat until her back was plastered against the man’s chest. His heat radiating though her skin encouraged her eyelids to flutter shut.