Chapter 1: The New Maluni

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Modern Day Hamartia. The Island Kingdom of Selah. 2021 A.D. (After Doom)

Right now, Mahani couldn't remember the last words her grandfather ever said to her, but she did remember the greatest ones.

A nine-year-old Mahani and her grandfather sit by the covered porch of the palace, watching ships go into the sunset.

"You, young lady, are going to be a very powerful woman someday."

There was certain credence to the old man's words. Mahani was well-educated, beloved in the eyes of the shamans, and most of all, the only child of the Malun and Maluna of the kingdom. It seemed sure that greatness was her destiny.

Today all of that turned to ruins.

⚔⚔⚔


Mahani watched as her aunt put the golden sheets over her mother's eyes and mouth. On the other side, her uncle was doing the same to her father. Mahani's grandfather was long gone. She had seen seventeen harvests by now, but his words still beat clear upon her ears like a wooden drum.

You are going to be powerful. Very powerful.

Her aunt continued to wrap the white cloth around both their bodies, adorning them with gold jewelry here and there.

Aunt Hedonia beckoned to her. "Bring the food here, girl."

Carrying a platter of sweetmeats and fresh fruit, Mahani kept her head down. While servants readied the bamboo raft, her relatives huddled around the river to bid Mahani's parents goodbye one last time.

⚔⚔⚔

While her pain was still raw, Mahani saw that her aunt and uncle had no problem sitting on the Selahin thrones as the new Maluni.

Drifting into thought, Mahani sat on the marble stairs leading to the open palace garden. It was late afternoon and the world was getting gray. Suddenly, Mahani felt a drop of rain cleanse her eyelids. It was gradually followed by more until the flow grew more intense. The rain thrashed her body while she sat still on the stairs. The chilly wind pushed through her nostrils and showered her whole body.

For all of her life, Mahani thought, she had lived in the palace. Binukots, forbidden to go outside, were wrapped from head to toe in garments that forbid her from being harassed by sunlight.

All covered up, she realized, like the shrouds on her parents' bodies.

Screw harassed.

Mahani tore her clothes away from her body. Standing, she threw her outer garments into the damp grass. She plunged forth into the rain. She spun and spun, her head swirling with the cleansing quality of the rain. It's ferocity. It's anger.

This was all she was left with.

Her body collapsing on the grass, she closed her eyes, her brain trespassing the holds of Sleep. Then she felt the little rays of heat. Opening her eyes, Mahani saw the sun staring right back at her. It seemed that the world would refuse her this little refuge of chaos she had found. Instead, the divine battaras decided to sic the sun on her albino body. Great.

Rolling on her tummy, she wallowed in mud and resignation. Mahani heard someone clear their throat. She rolled back up and sat upright.

Hamartia - the Singing Dagger | #NaNoWriMo2019Where stories live. Discover now