Maliha

Maliha quickly headed to her tent to gather a new set of clothes for Enzo and some oil so she could do his hair for the ceremony that would be starting soon and finishing early the next day.

She pushed the flap open and jumped out of her skin.

“Maliha.”

Enzo sprinted across the room and leaped into her arms. “Guess what?”

She hadn’t expected him to be waiting for her here, but his enthusiasm brought a grin to her face. She smiled down at him before looking up at the figure that sat on a wooden stool at the foot of Enzo’s pallet.

“What?” Maliha asked, her eyes not moving from the shadow that sat in her home like it owned the place.

“Ujarak is back and he promised that he would teach me how to shoot my bow once Kamir helps me make it.”

Maliha listened to all of Enzo’s excited rumblings while absentmindedly stroking his dirty cheeks.

“And did you know Kamir is getting married?”

Enzo’s words jolted out of her thoughts and reminded her that they had to hurry up and get ready.

She ushered Enzo over to his bed and told him to strip out of his dirty clothes. She gathered some clean and dry clothes from outside and brought a small bowl of water with her. Handing him a cloth, she made sure he washed all the dirt and grime from his body before she handed him the new trousers for him to change into.

“Do you want a top?” She asked, knowing that Enzo loved to run around topless which was common for most of the children, girl or boy.

“He doesn’t need one.”

Maliha’s eyebrow raised high at Makula’s words, she acknowledged the old woman’s wisdom before she used what was left of the water to dampen his hair. She added oil and then began braiding his hair. She added beads in all different colours and then tied the plaits away from his face except for the two that he liked to leave dangling by his face.

“Done.” Maliha clapped, wiping her oily hands onto a cloth.

“You are missing something Maliha,” croaked Makula

“I am?”

“Gold.”

Breath whooshed from Maliha’s lips as her necklace dangled from Makula’s hand and swung back and forth like a pendulum.

“This is a pretty necklace. You should wear it.”

After spending so much time with Makula, Maliha was able to spot when Makula was having two conversations in one as she was now. Makula had a reason for being here and a reason for suggesting Maliha wear the necklace.

“What is it?” Asked Enzo.

He touched the necklace with such reverence, his tips gliding against the shiny surface as if it were the delicate wings of a butterfly.

“It’s a holy necklace.”

Enzo crooned with excitement, his hand outstretching so he could hold the pendant in the palm of his hand.

“Maliha, you must wear it this night. It will amplify your prayers as a Syha.”

Makula’s withered finger bent as she ushered for Maliha to step closer. Maliha hesitantly obeyed and then sunk to her knees so Makula could place it around her neck.

The necklace hung heavy over Maliha’s neck, her heart thudding with the energy that seemed to seep out of the gold pendant.

“Where did you find it?” Questioned Enzo.

“It was my mother’s. That was what my adoptive father told me.”

Makula nodded in confirmation as if she already knew where the necklace came from and what it truly meant.

Maliha rubbed at the pendant with such longing, her finger stroking over the small gold boat that floated on a sea of tiny blue gems. Small green plants were visible in the background but only when she squinted. The gens and flecks were so small it was almost indiscernible.

Makula climbed to her feet and met Maliha with a final warning stare.

“This necklace is not yours to wear after this day Maliha, you know this.”

At first, Maliha was affronted by Makula’s suggestion that the necklace that had belonged to her mother was not hers to wear but she knew it was the truth. A truth that she had always felt when wearing the necklace. It had an energy, an energy that touched hers but one that did not accept her fully.

It was hard to explain how an inanimate object could feel or emit its own energy, but her mother’s necklace did.

A loud drum signalled in the air, calling everyone from their tents and into the open. Ujarak stood in the centre of the main fire and by his side stood Kamir. His auburn hair flowed like lambent fire in the sunlight and his skin glowed like liquid gold.

“Yahsolik” shouted Ujarak, his muscular arms rippling as he spread them out wide.

The tribe called their greeting back, their chores and food preparation halting as they paid attention to whatever Ujarak had to say. Kamir’s chest was puffed out in pride as he stared above Maliha’s head, looking off to the tents where she knew Xiuri was still inside talking to Ciur.

A crowd started to gather around the two men, Abazz making his way to stand beside them and Nahi standing off to the side with her grandmother, Hafiza and her two children.

Maliha and Enzo made their way through the bustling crowd, her eyes wide as she waited for Xiuri to appear. She had never been to a hand fasting amongst any of the tribes in the Dahsolik nation.

“Our brother Kamir, would like to address N’tan.”

N’tan, Ciur’s husband was at the front of the crowd with his arms folded across his chest. His jaw was clenched tight in reproach but Maliha knew that he was as accepting of this as was Ciur. As her older brother, he would challenge Kamir in any way he saw fit to ensure he would be able to provide and care for his sister.

His hostility was merely a facade a part of the first stage of the betrothal. Normally a couple had weeks to sweeten their intended’s family by providing them with gifts, helping with their labour and showing them how they would provide a home for their partner. They would do this in hope that on the final day of their three engagement, their families would accept them into their family.

Kamir did not have weeks to prove his worth to each Xiuri’s family, and Kamir had no family for Xiuri to impress. They were not having the three-week betrothal and so today was the day that Kamir would try to impress N’tan.

“Brother.” Kamir’s voice was weak with nerves.

N’tan grunted at Kamir, his shoulders straightening as he tried to appear larger and more intimidating to Kamir.

“I ask your permission to join with Xiuri.”

Though it had always been obvious to Maliha how Kamir felt for Xiuri, there were still gasps of surprise from the crowd.

“I do not have much to give Xiuri, but my heart and my bow will forever be pledged to her.”

There was a charged moment of silence, breaths held as N’tan stared Kamir down. Ujarak and Abazz at Kamir’s side bolstered him up the intense scrutiny.

From the short distance, Maliha could see the beads of sweat gathering along Kamir’s brow. His teeth gnawing Ito his bottom lips as the tensed silent rolled on.

Finally, N’tan broke the silence.

“Xiuri is a gift that no man deserves.”

Kamir grimaced at what he believed would be the fatal blow to his suit. Maliha could see Kamir’s mind working with all the ways he could salvage this situation but what he did not know was that it was not necessary.

“No man deserves my sister but you.”

Kamir was lost for words as he gripped N’tan in a tight hug. The crowd roared with laughter as Kamir kissed N’tan on his cheeks.

“The day you hurt her will be your last.” N’tan murmured along Kamir’s ear.

Kamir’s throat nodded in fear at the man’s threat but he knew it would never happen. He had hurt Xiuri the past few days by isolating himself from her, by keeping everything he felt from her. He had underestimated how loving and understanding she was and by doing so, he had undermined her affections and had almost lost her completely.

There was nothing he wouldn’t tell her, no feelings he would hide and no secrets he wouldn’t share with her.

A shift in the crowd had Maliha looking away from the display of males, to see what had caused the movement. People parted and there in the centre was Xiuri followed by Ciur. Her rich skin glowed with flecks of gold and her face radiated complete happiness.

The crowd cheered as Kamir and Xiuri gripped each other in a tight embrace and then they were moving.

The sounds of drums rattled in the air as songs of joy carried around them. The parade of people headed behind Ujarak’s large home and then continued into the forest. Every step was made in time with the drum beat. Flowers and leaves were thrown over the couple as the procession of people sung songs of the bride’s beauty and strength of the groom’s wisdom and virility. The songs went on an on as they traipsed through the forest.

Maliha joined in, laughing and clapping when members of the tribe would run in front of the couple and sing songs dedicated to them.

The journey was slow, but it was different form the first one she had made with Enzo. Though the sun was high in the sky, there was no urgency to their movements. The procession was slow and joyous.

Their songs climbed louder the higher they climbed up the mountain. Hands waving and bodies swaying until they reached the entrance to the temple that was dedicated to their goddess.

As the couple stood on the steps of the temple, the tribes song halted. Ujarak pushed his way through the crowd and stood on the steps alongside the couple. No words were said as Makula, Ciur and N’tan also joined them. Maliha took a while to realise what they were waiting for, but once she did, she moved through the crowd until she too stood by the steps. Everyone but Ujarak acknowledged her presence before they turned and headed inside.

The temple was nothing as she had imagined. The ceiling was covered in gold, with an opening that allowed the sun to penetrate into the middle of the temple.

Statues of flowers and plants that were crafted in the same holy metal stood at the entrance and large leafy plants formed an oasis of nature, the leaves reaching skywards, and bird songs carried form the highest peaks.

The floor was a deep red hardened mud, with swirling patterns curved into it. Maliha stepped delicately in fear that she would disturb the markings, but they seemed to have been carved into the grooves of the earth since the dawn of time. The sound of natural water trickled in her ear, letting her know that there was a steam running through the temple.

“Over here.“′ Whispered Ciur, lightly gripping Maliha’s elbow and pulling her to the centre of the temple.

A massive gold bowl stood in the centre, and within it flames roared and screeched heavenwards.

Makula hobbled towards the bowl and outstretched her hands to the couple. Ujarak came up behind them and pulled a gold dagger encrusted in priceless gems from his leather sheath.

He handed it to Makula who then proceed to cut a small clump of hair from Xiuri and then Kamir. She handed the knife back to Ujarak who then handed her a small gold chain. Makula began plaiting the hairs together with the gold chain, all the while praying over it.

Once she had said her prayers, she handed the hair to Ujarak who moved in front of the bowl. He dipped his right hand into the fire, churning it with his chants and energy. His mantra was like an ancient song and as he became louder the fire kindled higher, encompassing his arms in the flames as they roared higher and higher.

At that moment Ciur and N’tan began praying. Ciur gripped Maliha’s hand and called her to start praying. The chain that rested along her heart burnt her skin, energy sizzling from it as she repeated their foreign words.

Over and over, their voices echoed off the golden walls, the fire ascending until it reached the sky in a halo of orange.

Maliha jerked back in surprise as bolt of lightning split through the centre and sparked into the bowl. The violent flames were no more, dwindled into nothing but small flickering sparks and where the flames had been, the gold chain wrapped around the plait of their combined hair now lay. Not one follicle was burnt or singed.

“It is done.” Grinned Ujarak, patting both Xiuri and Kamir on the back.

“Let me announce you to the tribe.”

Maliha felt bereft as she followed the couple out to the tribe. Ujarak barely looked at her and though she had wanted to make her stance clear, she did not want this animosity between them. This cold silence.

Maliha moved without consciousness. Her hands clapping and feet stomping in time with the procession, but her heart wasn’t in it. She was almost floating as she moved back down the mountain to the sounds of thumping drums and clanging instruments.

Hoots and catcalls signalled the parting of the couple who were headed to the holy waters where they would wash their oily skin amongst other things.

There was a rush of activity as everyone moved around to prepare for Kamir’s and Xiuri’s return.

The circle of the main fire pit had been extended so that everyone would find a place to sit. Tables and cushions were gathered and a small raised platform with a small table and two cushions were set for the couple. Their position was intentionally elevated, so everyone would be able to watch them, and so they would have a perfect view of everyone and everything.

The fire was lit just as the sun began its descent. Meats and vegetables cooked in pots over the large fire and people dance and sang to the continuous thump of the drums.

Whistling and clapping signalled the entrance of the newly married couple, their skin completely clean of the oil and their clothes changed into bright yellow outfits. They took their seat and then everyone began eating, the atmosphere was light and jovial as everyone sat and ate together as one tribe.

As the meal progressed on, people who had known Xiuri and Kamir stood and shared stories that had everyone roaring around the campfire. The atmosphere was light and happy but Maliha could not relax. She was nervous and scared. The moment was drawing closer to her tribute dance and she had no point of reference. She had never seen a hand fasting in this tribe and had never seen a Syah in action.

Before Maliha could change her mind from dancing, the soft rhythm of the drums picked back up and Nahi approached her.

“These are for you.”

Nahi opened her palm and unravelled a handful of bracelets and anklets made of gold, beads and crystals.

“Wear these on your feet and wrists”

“Thank you.” Maliha whispered, her throat lodged with fear.

Nahi cradled Maliha’s cheeks in her hands and kissed her cheeks. “You will be great.”

Maliha’s palms were slick with sweat, her heart ringing in her ears as a soft song began to carry into the cool night. Hands thumped on tables and people blew on flutes. Sticks were rubbed together to create a melodic and ancient song that stirred deep into her heart. Her body shook with nerves as everyone stared at her, waiting with gentle smiles of pride and anticipation.

Maliha slipped the bangles onto her ankles and wrists before climbing from her seat. She kept her shoes off and then tightened that stays of her dress before stepping into the circle.

The bangles clanged together with every step and created their own song.

She sucked in a calming breath of air, closed her eyes and then let the music take over.

She waved one hand in the air while the other curled over her chest, her wrists twirling in small circles. She pointed her toes and then stepped forward, her feet sweeping the earth as she moved slowly. Her hands curved like the body of a snake and the bangles clanged with her. Her body slithered with each step, hands creating arches and swirling patterns above her head. The fire light gleamed off her skin and created rippling shadows.

She danced close to the fire, letting the flames heat her skin and energise her soul.

Her head rocked back, and her hips swayed to her own personal beat, one that joined with the accelerating beat of the drums. The rhythm paced faster and as it moved so did her body. She dipped low, her hands graving the earth before she climbed up and then she was spinning.

Her feet and arms moving rapidly as the drum of her heart thudded in her ears.

Her hair flew back and forth as she moved in a trance, the world a haze of colour and sound. Energy pulsed from her heart and surged all around her. She could hear the calling, hear the clapping but she could not see. Her eyes had closed long ago and now all she could do was feel. Feel the currents wash over her like holy light. Holy light that emitted from her being. Her soul was on fire and the necklace kindled the flames higher and brighter until her feet were stomping on the ground in a primal dance of praise and thanks.

Sweat glided down her body in rivulets but she could not stop. Her hips swung as she jumped and spun, her hands flying, swinging and swinging.

Words filled the air and with every chant her soul gleamed and gleamed until the feeling of love and belonging was all she could feel.