Maliha

“Feka,” roared Ujarak.

He gripped his hair ferociously, before snapping out of his self-depreciation and chasing after Maliha. He couldn’t let her leave, not like this. Not after what he had said in anger and fear

Inquisitive eyes watched his abrupt exit from the tent, brows raising before heads dipped low in disapproval. He tried to scout through the land to spot Maliha, but she had disappeared into thin air. His heart thudded in his chest as he cursed at the earth in himself.

He had messed up. Ujarak was disturbed by how nasty he had been.

He had said all the wrongs things and now Maliha was out there somewhere hating him. She had spoken the truth and he had allowed her to feel the fool for it all because he had been scared.

So damn scared.

He had been scared that he would read those scriptures and see that she wasn’t his sujurrah but what did it matter now? Maliha was heartbroken and was furious with him.

She was gone, and he had no one to blame but himself.

He had been so hung up on the past that he had treated her disgustingly. He was the worst sort of human and he needed Maliha to hear that. Even if she never forgave him, he needed her to believe that the fault wasn’t with her.

It was on him.

She had every right to stay here and though he stood by what he said about her returning home, he had been wrong to assume that because of that she did not belong. She did.

His heart sunk the further into his tribe lands he traversed without sighting Maliha.

Blood trickled down his face onto shoulder and his cheek throbbed from where she had gorged her nails into his skin. From the pain alone, Ujarak knew that his cheek would likely be scarred for a good while, if not for life.

It was fitting.

He had scarred Maliha’s heart and she had reacted in kind by clawing his face. The scar would be a constant mark to his face just like his words would always mar her heart.

“Call a council meeting now,” Ujarak demanded, shooting the order to an unsuspecting Kamir.

“But Uja we just-”

“Now,” Ujarak snapped, slamming aggressively inside the empty halls that had been his childhood home.

His feet smacked on the floors as he headed into the council room and sunk onto the bench. His head rested in his hands in defeat.

He had said things he didn’t mean. He had allowed Maliha to believe things that weren’t a true reflection of his feelings.

Of course, he cared. Of course, he wanted her to be his Sujurrah, but his reality was never so black and white, his family’s history had proven that.

He wanted to shout that it didn’t matter who her family was, but it did. The Daharrasol had to return to them, but he couldn’t just hand it back to them without explaining how they had gotten it. Maliha would have to return with it and when she was there, who knew what would happen.

She had to leave but she belonged here. He hated himself for spitting that falsehood when he knew how she had spent most of her childhood feeling as if she had no place or people to call her own.

He was despicable.

His blood dribbled onto the wooden table, as he drummed his fingers irritably.

The heavy doors clapped open, swinging into the wall. His head snapped up as one by one the council members glided into the room.

“What was so urgent to call this-”

Yaniza’s haughty words ground to a halt as her eyes widened at the horrific sight of his bloody face.

The air became stifling as the council members observed Ujarak’s gorged our face and downtrodden disposition.

“What happened?” Hafiza questioned, slowly approaching Ujarak and cupping his bleeding face.

He barely flinched as her thumb accidentally grazed against his wounded cheek.

“I messed up,” he croaked.

This wasn’t the first time he had messed up with Maliha, but he knew in his heart that this was the last time. She would never give him another chance. Never.

She wouldn’t trust him with her heart. Not anymore.

“I found out some disturbing information and I reacted wrongly,” he muttered staring down at his rough palms.

“I-” he choked up and had to take a moment to clear his throat.

“Maliha is Kaori’s missing daughter. She is Nah Barros.”

The council room echoed with shocked gasps.

“How do you know?”

“I found their Daharrasol in her home, Abazz. It makes sense. The time frame works. She would have been one or two when the attack happened.”

“That means she is-”

“An enemy,” Ujarak interjected deflatingly.

“That isn’t what I was going to say, but I suppose Maliha is,” sighed Hafiza.

“It makes sense now,” muttered Sabra collapsing into a cushioned chair.

Her eyes were dazed. Tears gliding down her cheeks as her shoulders shook with pain and disgust.

“I should have known,” she spat, “How did I not know?”

“Know what Sabra?” questioned Abazz, perplexed by the woman’s behaviour.

“Maliha is blood of my blood.” Her hand thudded over her heart in reverence as the tears glided in rivulets down her face.

“Though the blood is distant, I would know her spirit anywhere. I knew she reminded me of someone, but I dismissed it.”

Guilt was thick in Sabra’s heart. She had placed doubt in Maliha’s mind when she should have been caring for her out of respect for the blood they shared. Sabra was ashamed of herself

“I don’t understand,” groused N’tan.

“Maliha is the daughter of Iona. My great grandmother and Maliha’s were very close kin,” explained Aya breathlessly.

Her hands shook as she tried to confront her sobbing mother.

“Iona was soft but strong. Balanced. Of all her siblings, I knew from young that she would be the fiercest. Not because she was the strongest warrior or the smartest, but because of her determination and giving heart. Maliha has that strength and compassion. Her mother would be proud of her.”

Ujarak knew they were off topic but he had no desire to interrupt them. He was reluctant to reveal all because he knew what their reactions would be. So instead he sat back and allowed Sabra to tell tales and tales of her and Maliha’s blood line.

“Maliha’s blood line is rich. Like ours, she is a direct descendant of the Three Yari Soleen Khamar. She has power in her blood.”

Sabra’s head snapped to face Kamir. Her eyes narrowing as he snickered beneath his breath.

“The Yari Soleen are a myth. I didn’t take a strong tribe like yours to be so fanciful,” he scoffed snootily.

“I mean really? I have travelled far in my youth and have never come across the N’galiki nation or seen anyone from the Kyat tribe shift into a Draganir. It’s all nonsensical.”

Sabra’s lips pursed in anger as she wiped her tears from her eyes. Standing to her feet, energy pulsed around her and forced Kamir’s stance of arrogance to weaken.

“Do not disbelieve because you cannot see. Many would say we don’t exist. That’s it’s impossible for a nation like us to exist but we do and so do the N’galiki and the Draganik nations. They are no myth.”

“Sabra speaks the truth.”

Makula’s voice reverberated around them as she swayed passed the threshold and into the room. The air churned around her as her worldly eyes clashed with Ujarak’s.

“The Yari Soleen is no myth and Maliha’s blood is rich but that is not why We have been called here.”

Her feet ground to halt in front of Ujarak as she glared down at him.

“Is it Ujarak?”

Sweat beaded along his skin as he met Makula’s gaze with nothing hut shame. Makula saw right through him and she hated what she saw.

“Yes, I called you all her because-” Ujarak’s mouth became dry. His shoulders shook as he struggled to reveal his shameful actions.

“What did you do?” grimaced Hafiza, reading his expression for what it was.

Sabras back straightened as she picked up on Hafiza’s queue. Anger mounting inside her where Hafiza’s trepidation begun.

“Where is Maliha? Sabra snapped, stepping menacingly towards Ujarak.

“What did you to her, Ujarak?” Growled Ray’et barging into the room.

“Yes Ujarak,” added Makula,” What did you to Maliha?”

Ray’et had caught the tail end of their conversation and had gone after Maliha but she had barely been able to speak. Her sobs had been gut wrenching as she clung to him. Ray’et had stayed with her for as long as he could but the moment she had said Ujarak’s name he had left her with a consoling Darsan to confront his cousin.

“where is she?” Ray’et snapped.

“I don’t know where she is” Ujarak sighed defeatedly.

“When I found out who her parents were I- I acted despicably. I snapped and told her that she didn’t belong here. I let her believe that I didn’t care for her.”

He had been unnecessarily cruel.

The earth splintered apart with Sabras enraged scream. Her body propelled forward and before anyone knew what was happening Ujarak’s was trying to block blows as Sabra swing at him.

“How could you be so cruel?” Aya screeched, disgust dripping from her lips as she pulled her mother back.

“I didn’t mean it! I was just thrown off and she expected so much of me. I was livid, but my anger wasn’t directed at her. I didn’t mean to say it.”

“Well you did! What were you thinking Ujarak?” Reprimanded Hafiza.

“Everyone could see how much she cared for you. How could you do that to her?”

Hearing Abazz’ disapproval had Ujarak grimacing. There was not one person who did not hate himself more than he did, but Abazz and Sabra were close seconds.

“I was angry,” he stammered.

“She is the daughter of the man who participated in war that killed my father. I twisted her and had hidden things from me. I felt betrayed!”

Ray’et’s head reared back as if he had been punched and then he was charging at Ujarak. Body checking Abazz out of the way a she swung for his cousin.

“Do you know what you have done?” Ray’et bellowed.

Blood splattered into the air as Ray’et fist connected with Ujarak’s already torn face. Ray’et’s fingers wrapped around Ujarak’s neck as he tried to choke some sense into his relative.

Hafiza’s screams rattled in Ujarak’s ears as he tried to struggle for breath. Ray’et was choking him to death but Ujarak didn’t have the desire to fight back.

He deserved it.

He had begun to trust Maliha. To believe that what they were creating was more than some ancient curse that he hadn’t even been alive to witness, but when he had found that necklace… All of his doubts had swarmed to forefront and he had spurned Maliha with his viscous words.

“Enough,” bellowed Makula.

“Ray’et, unhand this idiot and Yaniza get me a cloth for his face.”

Ray’et reluctantly let go of Ujarak but his anger did not abate.

“I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I should have trusted my gut. You are just like your father.”

“I’m not,” Ujarak refuted but his words were hollow because even he could see the resemblance.

“I thought you cared for her Ujarak?” Murmured Hafiza, as she accepted the cloth from Yaniza and began to clean his mangled face.

“He cared for her for as long as it took him to get between her thighs,” spat Sabra.

“You are filth,” sneered Aya, pulling her livid mother further away.

“That’s not true. I did care for Maliha.” His head not vigorously when no one believed him.

“I do, I just- I felt betrayed.”

“Well now you know how she feels,” murmured Yaniza.

“It was clear to see that she loved you and what did you do? You trampled on it.”

“Spat on it,” growled Sabra in agreement. Her arms crossed over her chest as she sneered down at him.

“For a man who wanted to be nothing like his father you sure have become him, haven’t you Ujarak, or should I call you Kain?”

“I am not my father! Yes, I made a mistake. I hurt Maliha, but I called this council meeting because I needed your help with what I should do next because irrespective of what I said to her, I do want her to stay. This is her home and she does belong here!”

He was met with nothing but deafening silence. Until Makula’s wise eyes raised to meet his.

“You say you wish Maliha to stay and yet you are here talking to us instead of chasing her like you should have done. I can only wonder; do you truly mean it or are these just fickle words that you have convinced yourself to believe?”

“Do you even believe she is your Sujurrah, Ujarak?”

“I- I don’t know,” Ujarak murmured.

“It seems that the curse of this blood line live deep within you all. The Der Surjaz has been riddled by men who sought after their power, happiness and comfort over everything else. It started with Mahmatain, but that poison still lives in your veins. A shame.” Makula croaked, “A shame that you would not dare feel what your heart knows to be true.”

“I don’t understand. My father said-”

“Your father?” Sabra scoffed “How could you put what that man said in high regards?”

“He started a damn war after he caused the death of his Sujurrah! Your mother Ujarak!” Bellowed Ray’et.

“He was a selfish and weak man! You have immortalised your father. You put him on some sort of pedestal and places his mistakes against Urik, when the mistakes were not my fathers to stop or fix. I won’t sit by while your toxic bloodline ruins this tribe! Everyone in this damn room knows what Maliha means to you but only you ever had to know!”

There was an acknowledging hush in the room the moment Ray’et finished his diatribe. Faces turned to Makula as the elderly woman sunk into a chair with a bone-weary sigh.

“It was never about magic and signs,” murmured Makula. “It was never about the woman but about you. It was a man who ruined this tribe and the burden was placed on a man alone. How could you think to look for a woman when within yourself you are fundamentally missing parts?”

“But my father said-”

“That he knew your mother was his Sujurrah the mount her saw her? That he loved her? What Good was that love when he never accepted it into his heart?” Jeered Sabra.

“At the first signs of struggle he threw your mother to the side and behaved despicably, and my sister was no better,” muttered Yaniza solemnly.

“It was never Maliha’s place to prove her worth to you. It was always your place to prove your worth to her and you failed at the first test ashra, just as your bloodline always does.”

“I didn’t know, I didn’t think it- “

“You didn’t want to know, Ujarak,” spluttered Ray’et.

“All you had to do was want it enough. You just had to read those damn scriptures, but you didn’t because as much as this bloodline always wants to break this curse, they never want it enough.”

“I could not make a blind man see what was in front of him if he feared to merely open his eyes,” shrugged Makula dispassionately.

“But it’s not the end, right? If Ujarak just had to prove his worth to a descendant of Maliha then surely, he could do that when another wanderer comes. Right?”

Kamir looked around the room for support, his hope fading fast that the dead eyes that glared back at him.

“How could he prove his worth to another woman if his feelings were so fickle with Maliha?”

It didn’t matter because Ujarak didn’t want another woman. He just wanted Maliha. It hadn’t been obvious to him before, but It was now. Savuriya had placed Maliha into his path, not because she was the only one chosen for him but, because Maliha’s heart and spirit would force Ujarak to break down his heavily defended walls.

Makula said it was about him roving his worth but it was also about Maliha. No other woman could inspire such turbulent emotions on him. Only Maliha.

“I need to talk to her.”

Makula tutted her teeth in reproach. “A chance does not come more than once. Your words have confirmed what Maliha read in those scriptures today. Maliha knows that love was all it would take. Not the weak love that this bloodline has spewed since the split of this tribe but true love. World dividing love. Tribe uniting love. Love that you clearly do not have for her, if your words were anything to go by.”

“But I do. I didn’t mean my words. I lo -”

His words were drowned out by a hysterical Xiuri who burst into the room with tears gushing down her cheeks. She threw herself into Kamir’s arms sobbing her heart out into his neck.

“She’s gone,” Xiuri blubbered.

Ujarak’s stomach began to churn, his world spinning as the alarm rang clear in his head.

“Maliha’s gone,” she wailed, “and I can’t find Enzo.”

Ujarak didn’t hear anything after that. Nothing but the sound of his heart disintegrating with the knowledge that he had done this.

Gone

She was gone, and Enzo was missing.

He had done that.

He had hurt Maliha just as his father had hurt his mother.

The reaction to his brutal words was worse than he had ever imagined. His family was ruined, and history was repeating itself.

He had no one to blame but himself.