Origins(Prequel) (Island Of Zarada)

by Michele Evans

  “Rain makes all else possible, does it not?” asked Luda, sighing and admiring her field.

  “Yes, and a little magik doesn’t hurt, either,” chided Magik Elder.

  “True, true,” the Saronian woman agreed, chuckling as she made her way to a choice plant. With her new tool, she cut ten stalks each with perfectly sized stones for her new friend. As she cut them, they let out a crying sound. She handed them over and said, “They will be at their highest potency for seven days, then they will slowly fade and become dormant.”

  Magik Elder thanked the Heiress, bid her farewell, and taking both the stones and the knowledge with her, set sail for Vinda Major. Upon her arrival, she mounted her camion and galloped straight to the castle, which she saw was well on its way to completion.

  She marveled at the smooth turrets and tall pillars, feeling a swell of pride. Her beloved Sultana had made this possible. She squeezed her precious parcel tighter, knowing that its contents held the key to their future.

  As she bounded over the freshly paved white stone path, she noticed two guards waiting at the doors. Soon enough, she recognized them. They were boys she had known since their infancy who had grown up and become Young War-riors. She grinned at their seriousness. “Well now,” she said. “You are fine warriors, you are.”

  They bowed their heads in respect, shouted out to someone unseen, and the heavy wooden doors opened. Magik Elder entered and was dwarfed by a palatial entry that was flooded with natural light. It had a high ceiling topped with a skylight shaped like a star. She was greeted by an attendant and led to the private rooms from which the Sultana now conducted her affairs.

  Undua spent many hours in her quarters hunched over plans for the apartments in which the Elders would reside. Some of the plans were now unrolled across a large table. She was looking at a hallway connecting the apartments to the Council Chambers, which were also attached to the castle. She was pointing out a revision to the Head Builder when the sound of footsteps caught her attention.

  “Come in, come in,” Undua said with enthusiasm when she saw it was Magik Elder. “I have been waiting for your arrival!” Embracing the travel worn woman, she instructed the Head Builder to go and return the next day, then gestured for the attendant to bring tea.

  When they had settled into two burgundy brocade chairs that faced the large bay window overlooking the river, Undua urged Magik Elder to tell all that had transpired on Sarona. Magik Elder graciously told her the details of her adventure. When she was finished, she unwrapped the stones for the Sultana to see.

  Undua beamed with pleasure, but Magik Elder remained uneasy. “I hope we can do what is required,” she said.

  “I’m sure we can,” Undua answered.

  “How will we find priestesses among us?” Magik Elder asked. “And how will we convince our race to ‘worship’?”

  Undua stood. She sauntered to the window and gazed at the shrinking river, coaxing her mind for a solution. In a few moments, she pivoted and said, “There are a handful of girls in the Warrior Training Academy who are not fierce. In fact, they are abysmal in the ways of combat.”

  Magik Elder weighed this. “I suppose there are those who shy away from the training, yes; but they usually overcome their reticence, at least enough to defend them-selves.”

  Undua shook her head. “Yes, yes, they try to overcome it. But in the end they drop out, never picking up a sword again. They simply don’t have the drive or interest. It is not their way.”

  Magik Elder understood. “You are saying we will let them be something they are better suited for?”

  Undua nodded. “Exactly right. They will be allowed to volunteer for a position I will announce as an honorable post. And as far as the worshipping goes … well....” Her voice trailed off. “...I declare that we will learn this worshipping.

  “And if what you say is true, we only have to do it when we need rain. That surely will not be offensive to our people considering the benefits. If this goddess truly exists, we welcome her gifts; and if she is fabricated and it’s only magik at play, then she can be a symbol of female abund-ance.”

  Magik Elder, impressed once again by the Sultana, nodded her head exuberantly. “Yes, Sultana. Wise words. Very wise words, indeed.”

  Rain Magik

  While Magik Elder was away, Undua had noticed a drought was looming. The Spring that was supposed to be springing eluded them; young leaves were not emerging as they should be; the earth was parched and cracking, and animals scrapped for resources.

  The rain ceremony was their only hope of staying on Vinda Major. And now that Magik Elder had returned with the stones they needed, a ripple of anticipation coursed through the village.

  Once Undua had the stones safely in her hands, she proclaimed that at dawn the following day their Spring Festival was to begin and it was now that the suns were just hinting their imminence with an umber glow on the horizon.

  Previously held in the confines of ships or on the foreign lands of other people, she relished the space and time they had to celebrate at their leisure, in a place they almost dared to call home. They were evolving from the adolescence of a wandering tribe to a mature community of warriors and trades people. They were earning the responsibility to care for something enduring – land. And they were so very close to having it – as long as the ritual worked.

  Activities sprung up all over the village throughout the day. Flower wreaths were woven and all varieties of games were played. No one toiled, and all were in good humor. They celebrated the arrival of Spring, but a Spring that had not quite arrived and so their thoughts were colored by the mysterious ceremony that lay ahead – would rain shower upon them as the Saronian woman promised or were they to be disappointed, destined to go back to cramped quarters, sailing away within the dark hulls of the ships?

  Undua arrived at the Festival to see large spoonfuls of scrumptious dishes heaped onto plates and festive brews poured into overflowing mugs. Old stories were brought out by the venerable ones for their annual retelling. Some used words from the old tongue, which invoked laughter when the youngest ones tried, with difficulty, to speak them.

  At the end of the day, the Zaradian tribe reposed, and became quiet in their contentment. They gazed upon the horizon, swathed in milky orange streaks, two gold discs melting into the azure sea. As darkness swallowed light, the sky was washed with amber and the air cooled. The Zaradians, bellies full, slowly ambled to their huts. They pulled cloaks over their shoulders, then made their way to the chosen place.

  As Undua predicted, five shy, timid girls were glad to be given leave of warrior training in order to dedicate them-selves to the Rain Goddess. Magik Elder taught them how to prepare the stones and how to perform the rite.

  The five Priestesses now chanted a haunting melody. Two Priestesses tapped large drums as the three others stood at the altar. At the top of the altar was a figure of the Rain Goddess. The three at the altar gazed at the shimmering Larimar stones that were arranged in front of them on silver trays lined with vermillion satin. As the Zaradians gathered around, they joined in the chant, and when all were present, the ritual began.

  The Head Priestess raised the staff and circled the altar, the others following in single file. The drummers carried their drums, beating them hypnotically as the chanting continued. After seven circles, the Head Priestess stopped in front of the altar and Magik Elder, in her finest blue velvet cloak, approached, magik wand in hand.

  The drumming and chanting filled the air while Magik Elder carefully slid the stones into depressions carved in the staff especially for that purpose. As she placed a stone in its hollow, she shouted out a magik word – “Faruka! Hauniman! Yaudre! Uieldh! Yeuris! Nhduu! Uytut! Woiuer! Behfyr! Ytour!”

  The image of the goddess was illuminated against the sable sky by torches, whose dancing flames threw light and shadows over her figure. The mass of Zaradians looked upon her benevolent face, swaying with the beat of the drums.

  Swaying turned in
to dancing and dancing turned into twirling and soon they were moving in all directions, while they cried out to the Rain Goddess, asking for blessings and generosity. Undua stood to the side watching, silently mouthing her own prayers to this new goddess – a figure she saw as a symbol of feminine strength, whom she identified with and respected.

  As the drums beat faster, Magik Elder stabbed the sky with the staff, full of shimmering stones, thrusting it over and over again as if to pierce a hole that would free the clouds of the life giving drops they withheld.

  The Priestesses pounded the drums in a trance, chanting in a hypnotic rhythm. When the cacophony of the drums and the crying out and the chanting and the dancing reached a feverish pitch, clouds rolled in and a blue flash blazed through the air – a burst of lightning!

  Next, thunder roared and precious drops began to fall – small at first then larger until great sheets came down, drenching the ground, making it slick with mud. They rejoiced, dancing to the Rain Goddess, slipping and sliding in jubilation. Undua lifted her face upward and, closing her eyes, felt the water pour over her face and smiled to herself, knowing her vision would abide.

  On the other side of the island, Intalla heard pattering on his roof. Peering up at the ceiling, he knew at once what it was – the Zaradians had come through. They had stopped the drought! He felt a momentary sense of satisfaction, then had a shocking realization – the Zaradians now held unlimited power over him. Without them he would have no rain. Without them there would be no food. Without them there would be less tira to buy hindola. He was in a precarious position indeed.

  As long as our lives are separate and the Zaradians continue to make the rain, he thought, we can go on this way. But what if the Zaradians decide to turn against him? The Zaradians didn’t need the Vindans. No, that was highly unlikely. Undua would not risk harm to her people unless she had good reason. As long as they did not have a conflict, there should be no cause for dissent on either side.

  PART 2

  Fairies

  Many years passed in peace and prosperity. Undua had lived out her life in a magnificent castle surrounded by a luxury and opulence she never knew as a nomad. She found that she loved beauty above all things and had created a world of sublime richness within the castle halls and meeting rooms as well as throughout her private quarters.

  She took pride in the gardens she kept in the courtyards and on the surrounding land. But this alone would have not been sufficient reason to call her a great Sultana. Undua was known far and wide as an adept leader and was respected amongst all races.

  She corresponded with heads of other islands, visiting them and welcoming them as guests, and often gave gifts for envoys to take to lands she would never see. But beyond her perfection of beauty and diplomacy, she dedicated much of her time to what she saw as her most important mission – writing the book of laws for her people, a massive undertaking that had resulted in a single 2400 page volume.

  Many years previously, she had assigned a special emissary, a man named Renon, to be ambassador to other lands. She chose him because he was the clear commander amongst the men. Accomplished as well as handsome, he had approached Undua for her hand on several occasions. But before they gave up nomadic life, she had refused.

  When they settled on Vinda Major, however, her atti-tude changed. The next time he asked, she not only agreed to marry him, but also appointed him Sultan, creating a role that had never existed before.

  Renon had since died and once again she ruled alone. She had slowed down in her age, and many tasks had been delegated to the High Council, but she still insisted on performing some of her favorite duties, one of which took her back to her nomadic roots – exploring this vast and varied island.

  Today she planned to venture into the Fairy Forest. She had been there many times in the hopes of spotting a fairy, but so far they had eluded her. On this cool morning, she ate a hearty meal and, feeling a sense of adventure, dressed in her good riding clothes and ventured out to the stables.

  Her camion, Gondee, had just been fed and brushed and made ready for her. She patted his large feline head and he let out a great big purr. Mounting him, she leaned forward, shouting, “Ho!” Gondee promptly broke into a gallop, carrying her swiftly away from the castle grounds and across the open field. He spread his silky midnight wings, unfolding them into the air and soon they were off the ground, and in a few minutes high above the Trothe mountains – sailing smoothly over the sparkling blue sea.

  From this height, the endless canopy spread out like a green quilt made up of varying textures and shades. On the far side, where the trees butted up against the ocean shore, the suns threw sparkles across the blue green water. The forest drew back into the interior in the other direction and that is where she spotted a place to land, a lovely golden meadow.

  Descending, they hit the ground at a gallop, then came to a stop at the forest’s edge. The buzz of insects and the soft cooing of a bird somewhere inside the forest were the only sounds she heard. She felt a gentle breeze kiss her cheeks and the suns’ rays warm her body.

  Strange voices interrupted her reverie. She quickly dismounted and led Gondee into the coolness of the shade and in a moment she saw them – young Vindans prowling around, causing a ruckus. She listened to them brag about how many different kinds of animals they had burned already that day. As they approached, she came out and stood before them, sword in hand, Gondee by her side. “Why are you out of your compound?” she demanded.

  The youths were speechless. Although they had heard about them, they had never seen a Zaradian before, and didn’t like the look of the sword. They said nothing.

  “I am Undua, Sultana of the Zaradians, and you are beyond your boundaries. Go back to the Vindan compound now,” she commanded.

  The youths turned and floated as fast as they could away from this strange creature with unknown powers. Undua watched as they disappeared in the direction of Vindan territory and went back to what she had come here for. She delved deeper into the forest than ever before, forging a path between the tree trunks, the ground firm under her summer boots. Gondee stayed near, meandering along behind her.

  She inhaled the scent of decomposing leaves from last autumn, released by her steps. As she had done on her other outings into the wilderness, she bonded with the land. She felt the responsibility of stewardship – caring for this place and all living things on it. She walked in a state of happiness, winding her way through openings between the trees, following the direction her feet took her.

  She stopped and pulled a small sketch pad out of her satchel to capture a particularly exquisite flower. She liked to learn the names and applications of all the leaves and flowers, barks and seeds. Later she would take her sketch to Healing Elder and identify what she had discovered and learn which properties it possessed.

  As she sketched, Gondee grazed a few feet away on tender leaves, buds, and the occasional insect. Birds sang intermittently and a small creature rummaged in the brush.

  Undua finished the drawing and closed her notebook. As she was packing up, she heard a loud buzzing – the flapping of wings the size of ... could it be? Fairies! She turned to see, but saw nothing. A second and a third buzz were added and soon the layers were multiplying, and so quickly, she couldn’t keep track of how many there were.

  She stood very still, and then spun around as fast as she could but there was still absolutely nothing there! The buzzing had moved again – now it was above her head. The swarm of sparkling light hovered near, moving en masse.

  Every time she tried to follow it, the mass moved, always staying just out of sight. She lay her sword and her dagger on the ground and stepped away, her arms stretched out.

  “Hello fairies!” she said good naturedly. “I am Undua, Sultana of the Zaradians. I wish to be your friend. Please show yourselves.” The buzzing sound slowly moved in front of her, in a dazzling cluster – there were at least a thousand fairies!

  They flew in a spiral formation outw
ard then came back in on themselves, creating a fountain of iridescent light cascading in perfect harmony. They chirped and laughed in a symphony of elation. “Enchanting!” she exclaimed, catching glimpses of their pixie faces – how lovely, sweet and glittering they were.

  Then just as suddenly as it had begun, the lights zoomed away and disappeared, leaving only two giggling fairies. They bowed in mid air, laughing and chirping and twirling. The girl fairy dazzled Undua in a sparkling pink dress and the boy fairy wore a shimmering green suit.

  “We welcome you to the Fairy Forest,” said the one in pink. “My name is Astriella and this is Pongo.” She waved a tiny hand toward her friend.

  Pongo spun around, saying, “It’s a pleasure to have a treasure, and I mean you – a, Sultana Undu – a!” He danced in the air as he sang and Undua laughed heartily.

  “How wonderful to meet you!” she said.

  “We wanted to make sure you were kindly before we let you see us. After all, you have those big weapons, which are frightening,” chirped Astriella.

  “To me, fairies are sacred beings,” said Undua. “Our weapons would only ever be used to protect you.”

  “We invite you to the Fairy Palace to meet our King and Queen,” said Pongo.

  “I would be honored. Can you take me there now?” asked Undua.

  “Indubitably!” answered Pongo, waving his tiny arm through the air and clapping his hands. Astriella giggled. They spun a circle of light, and together made a trail of shimmers for Undua to follow.

  The Fairy King and Queen welcomed Undua. They told her that they were in grave danger and asked for her protection. “We haven’t ventured out of the Fairy Forest in many moons,” said the King, solemnly.

  “Their young ones shoot fireballs at us for sport,” explained the Queen, wringing a miniscule white handkerchief.