-Prologue- Sea of sand

 

From the Journal of Ecathea, heiress of the Servants of Althiria Tribe

"Two years ago, there was just sand all around us. Sand, water and the despair the war left behind. 

Our home was destroyed, as well as everything we knew. 

We left as girls, and we landed on the beach as wrecks. Burned by the sun, starved and so close to take our last breath that I still find hard to believe we didn't die that day. 

Sometimes I wonder if any member of our tribe survived the war..If someone is still looking for us... If we will ever be missed again. 

Aphonia was 13 when the Darthans came. They didn't even wait for a full moon after our mother died.  They came at night, crawling like the snakes they are. If they waited until the end of the summer, Aphonia could have been trained enough to protect herself from the archers. She was not ready. When the fiery darts started to light the sky, she froze. 

I thank the goddesses every day for sparing her life. She lost one eye, but she survived that fire shower without many other wounds.  I am sure she could feel the touch of Althiria on her shoulder, that day. Aphonia says she doesn't remember anything, but who could save her from the fire, if not the goddess of the Seas? 

I wish I were strong enough to spare her from the pain. I feel the shame of my weakness when I think about the last night we spent with our tribe. As the new Creator, I should have been prepared for anything. I should have been able to protect my people. But I let them die. I fought so hard, I killed so many men but was not enough. My scars should remind me of my victories, but they carry great grief.

 I was 20 when my mother died. I have been trained to become the next Creator since I was 10. My mother always told me how enchanting love felt, how her body was not enough to keep it inside. The love for our people was so intense she needed to share it with me, her heiress, so I could feel at least a part of it before my time as a Creator came. She was called Noraya "The Loving" by many, even if she didn't like that nickname. I remember how furious she was when I called her that way, one time. I couldn't understand why she hated it so much.

I miss her. 

I spent hours thinking about every little detail of her jewellery, while we were floating in the middle of the sea. I tried to visualized her eyes in my head. How dark they were. Almost as dark as her skin. In Summer, when the sun tinted her skin, she looked like made of basalt.

We floated on that raft for 4 days, laying on our back to maintain the balance. We couldn't even sit without feeling us sinking in the cold water. 

Vasir was the one who helped me carry my sister when we escaped, and I am grateful for that. I will never admit it, but I am not sure I could have been strong enough to carry her up for as long as he did. Aphonia always complains about the way I treat him, but she tends to forget that he is still a slave. Probably the only one left from our tribe, but not worthy of special treatment.

I have been magnanimous enough when I let him lay on our raft after the first day. From the stories the Priestesses have told me, my grandmother would have let him drown. 

He was the oldest slave of the tribe. Old enough to receive his third ceremonial tattoo. Most slaves get sacrificed to Althiria far before reaching their third decade, with their second tattoo still fresh on their skin, but Vasir never bred. Normally, he would have been dead by now, but a tribe cannot function without slaves. We have been too busy building our house to worry about finding new men, so Vasir will have to stay longer than I expected. 

I am worried Aphonia is getting too attached to him. She treats him like a friend, violating every tradition of our people.  Sometimes I can hear them laughing like children, and that scares me deeply. We don't have a tribe anymore, but we have the teachings of our ancestors to protect. I am afraid that men will force my sister far from the goddesses' path."