Waiting Between Worlds

"Gather my children. Gather around your Momma Abi for truth-telling."

The Waifs, abandoned young of the north, swarmed the flaming salt sands that twirled their Faramom as they entered the temple. Though the Anan Temple was in disrepair from years of war and neglect, Momma Abi used it.

"Waste nothing." Were her words.

Momma Abi was the eldest Faramom in the Realm. Faramoms were mothers to the mother and fatherless. They taught Waifs to survive. The young ones learned to hunt, fish, cook, clean, sew, read, write, and fight. Occasionally, they discovered the ancestral tongue. Momma Abi was different from other Faramoms. War had marked her. She fought in countless battles. With the loss of many noble children who were left defenseless, she clung to her duty and expected nothing less from Waifs and the unbetrothed young ladies who are Faramoms in waiting.

"This dawn is devoted to the One God as all dawns. Through our hands, heal the Realm."

She prayed the exact words with each sun and before truth-telling. Most Waifs, now ten and three years old, anticipated the sun they would hear of Faraji's origins and elated Waifs have long awaited their truth.

"Morrow is never promised, but the past may be." Momma Abi announced after clearing her throat. "It travels through us like a river empties into the sea. If we do not stand firm on our convictions, our past may never set us free."

"Get on with it!" Akpan the domb shouted.

"Shh, before You get us flogged," Taraji whispered.

Taraji tried to keep a grip on Akpan. She did not call him dumb because she scorned him, it was the exact opposite. Taraji saw him as a brother, and she wanted him to take his life seriously.

Momma Abi loved the boy, but she was not fond of him. She warned Taraji not to have faith in him for many suns and moons. He was a man grown at ten and six years, but insolence radiated him.

Before she began, she shot one good brown eye at Akpan.

Faraji and his clan traveled the salt lands. The nomads had many small settlements, but none were suited for expansion. After many suns and moons, Faraji discovered what he believed to be the future of his people.

"Finally, the Land of Prosper." He whispered.

His brown eyes beheld rich onyx soil that tingled his hands when he scooped into it. Shimmering in the sunlight was crimson rocks with a core of iron ore. Intertwined within the rocks were flakes of precious gold. Soft stone lined a narrow path that led to rushing water that brought forth steady streams flowing with life. Faraji declared it a river he named the Green Nile. The Green Nile flowed for miles before a shift in the tides emptied it into a vast transparent ocean he called the White Sea.

The Femi, Faraji's enchanters, declared the soil blessed; settlements sprang up in the far-reaching Realm named Faraji. Before long, word of the bustling land danced to the ends of the domain. Outside clans wanted to bathe in the wealth of Faraji; therefore, future marriages were proposed and arranged. The engagements brought prosperity to all. Distant lands would have a stake in the Realm, and trade would be a certainty.

Temporary settlements became enchanted cities that shimmered in the moonlight. Temples to the Femi stacked into the heavens topped with golden arches. The Femi had Faraji's ears, so when they declared him king, he agreed, though he had promised the people a republic.

There were quarrels though they did not last. To appease the people, he formed a small council representing each of the twelve original clans that had gaited the sands with him so long ago.

"What about the dragons?" Akpan blurted.

"Silence your tongue, boy! There will be no more outbursts!" Momma Abi scorned.

It was no secret she respected the dragons, and some would dare say she defended them. The children would finally learn why.

The stealth beasts owned the plum sky. They slept by the sun and hunted by the moon. Though they were of a miraculous size, they had the element of surprise. The dragons were mute, and it would be too late for the unsuspecting when their flames were heard. Maybe an additional blessing bestowed upon them by the creator.

The fantastic beasts' essence forged the land the ancestors came to know. No one knew where they came from or the origins of their natural abilities. Without the dragons, the natural resources the Farajites coveted would not have existed. Faraji's Realm would have failed.

Dragon's purple, blue, black, red, green, and golden scales shed nutrients into the sands. Their blazing flames melted grains and formed the soft stone. Their manure fertilized the soil, making it ripe for crops. The golden dragon's flame burned so hotly that it melted masses of earth to its core. Once hardened, it mutated into indestructible iron ore laced with gold flakes.

Hence, Faraji named the dragon Akheon the Gilted, which meant gold bringer.

Faraji respected and grew to love dragons. The image of the four-legged, gigantic beast became the emblem of the Realm. Elderly sewists were tasked with cutting, dyeing, and sewing flags with a golden six-headed dragon.

After many suns and moons of prosperity and peace, the Femi tired of the beasts. They wanted the glory for themselves. They believe they led the king to the Land of Prosper through their magic. Though the Femi's desires were granted, they craved more.

One day they secretly mixed a binding potion into the king's cup during a feast in his honor. After three suns, the king began to change. He heard loud internal voices, and he hallucinated. The voices spoke to him when the dragons arrived the next sun. The jinxed king believed the dragons demanded payment for their good deeds. The voices convinced him the dragons wanted to devour women and babies.

The council agreed the king acted strange, but no one knew the extent of his bewitching. They believed his words, so he set the Realm on a course of no return.

The dragons were not the monsters the Femi had taught the Realm of old to believe.

"They did not kill mothers nor eat your Waif ancestors."

"Blasphemy!"

Akpan's screech could have been heard throughout the Realm.

Momma Abi approached the boy when a powerful force shook the temple walls.

Stones toppled from the ceiling, and the space was packed with black smoke. Akpan did not look back for his friend, and he and other Waifs dashed for the exit. Taraji scampered to Momma Abi, clutched her hands, and pulled.

"Take this, Momma!"

Taraji removed two flaxes from her belt and placed one in Momma Abi's hands. Both put the cloths to their faces, but it did not prevent the stinging and watering of their eyes.

Momma Abi began to slow, and her breaths labored.

"Wait here. I will go ahead to see if the path is clear."

Taraji worried. Momma Abi was not the Faramom she once was. When she returned, Momma's face had met the dirt. She quickly turned her over.

"It's this way. We will make it."

"My child, I must protect you." She stuttered.

"I do not need protecting, Momma."

Their eyes were bloodshot, and they gasped, but Taraji managed to get Momma off the sand. She slowly led Momma down a secret path of stone stairs she and two other Waifs carved out. While stepping through thick smoke, they tried to ignore the cries of men, women, and children above. Momma slowed, and the sand caught her face once more.

"Momma! Get up." Words forced threw hacking and gasping.

"We must go?"

"The Femi. They've come for revenge."

"Momma, you taught us. Trained us. The Femi was exiled."

"No. No. They found you."

"Me? Momma, I'm no one."

"You are so much more. I am so sorry for my deceit."

"Shh. Get up. Please. You can tell me when we make it out. The light is there. Please, Momma."

Blood protruded from Momma's mouth and flowed into her eyes.

"You are Akheon's heart." She stuttered.

"What?"

"The Femi not only destroyed the dragons but stole their souls, believing they could mimic their natural power. The Femis were wrong. They needed a greater force when their magic could no longer sustain the Realm. They hunted the only dragon who did not visit with the king that sun. The Femi lured him out with you. Let me show you."

Momma Abi took Taraji's head into her trembling hands.

She closed her eyes and could hear raised voices echoing in a deep fog. As it cleared, Taraji beheld King Faraji, his queen, and their toddler daughter. Behind the queen stood two Femis. She knew the Femi by the white lines tattooed on their mahogany skin, blue braids, and grey eyes.

They spoke Farajian, the ancestors' tongue. Taraji could not comprehend, but she could feel the torment of the old queen whose tears touched her cheeks as she placed her daughter into the hands of a Femi.

The Femi disappeared among the white flags. In a brilliant blaze, Taraji saw a pile of dragon leaves, and upon it was the cooing toddler wrapped in white. From the thick canopy, black smoke and a jolt of the ground.

From the green leaves, a golden snout peeped. The toddler wept as the beast sniffed and growled, no longer a silent dragon. In the distance, a presence of evil stood. The Femi lifted her hands and conjured a shadow. The shadow entered the mouth of Akheon. Bewitched by the shadow, Akheon devoured the little one in a gulp. For the first time, the dragon heard itself. He moaned and groaned when the king and his Sobis came into view. From above, a golden vulture appeared, the weapon the Femis forged. The vulture, an enchanted golden three-headed spear shot from a gadget shaped like a white vulture, was manned by the Sobis.

Bolt after bolt was loosed towards Akheon but missed. Akheon used the canopy to his advantage. By the time he reached the end of the massive leaves, he had begun to bleed. The shadow within began to wreck his organs. To the ground, his enormous body fell.

From within, the toddler remained alive, for the dragon never chewed her, but the shadow surrounded her. The blackness entered her eyes, and convulsions erupted. Her blood boiled, not because of the shadow but her holy lineage.

She opened her mouth, and the words of Mun, the One God, flowed out, shredding the shadow. Akheon was damaged but not dead. The toddler raised herself towards his head so, his body rose and plummeted into the White Sea. From the sea, the dragon rose to the sand. With a sneeze, the little one seeped from his nostrils.

The dragon opened his eyes to the one who saved his life. He sniffed her and again smelled what he had sensed earlier, Amools. The life force of Mum flowed through her veins. This girl was a Denti, an immortal goddess. Proof of her divinity was a golden mark in the shape of a horn upon her chest.

Momma Abi released Taraji's head and took a deep breath.

"How did you_," Taraji asked as her eyes swelled.

"I did not show you your past; you did."

"That's not possible, Momma. The Realm is thousands of years old."

Momma Abi placed her hand on Taraji's chest.

"You know it's true. The Femi found you, and this time they are not alone."

Momma Abi removed a pearl from her braids.

"I should have given this to you long ago. I should have warned you, but I was afraid. Take this beacon, and it will lead you to Akheon. Only he can awaken your Denti spirit."

"He can't be alive."

"He lives, my girl. Amools from your blood mixed with his when you were inside him.

The Faramom gasped for air one last time then her pupils dilated.

"Momma. Momma no. You can not leave."

Taraji placed her face inside Momma's bosom. A loud bang yanked her. She gently placed her lips atop Momma's forehead before she covered her face with the flax linen.

"I can not bury you, but I promise to avenge you. I will find Akheon and bring justice to all who wail this sun."

Taraji placed the pearl inside her ashed-filled course ginger braids.