Maliha
53: A Mother's Sacrifice

Maliha’s legs swung back and forth as she stared out into the distance, her eyes gazing over the rippling, blue water as daylight slowly peeled across the sky. The air was full of tension, it rolled of Kaori’s shoulders in thick, choking waves. She could feel his eyes boring into her face, it was as if he was afraid that if he looked away Maliha would disappear into thin air.

“I used to take your mother up here all the time. She always found it peaceful, I think it reminded her of home.”

Maliha looked over at the man who had a part in her conception. She could see where many of her features had come from. He had dark midnight skin that glistened under the rising sun. Thick black hair that was scraped into a bun atop his head. His dark eyes were almond shaped, and the pierced bridge of his nose was broad. Her brother was a replica of Kaori baring Makaio’s lighter skin, and her father’s wider and fuller lips.

“It’s peaceful. I can see why she would have liked it,” Maliha murmured.

“This used to be a bridge that connected the mainland to our Island.”

At the mention of a bridge, Maliha thought back on Makula’s words. She had mentioned that the Nah Barros had not rebuilt their bridge. Maliha had always assumed that the old woman had been speaking in riddles like she always had been, but Makula had been speaking literally. The Nah Barros had not rebuilt the bridge that once connected them to the world. As Maliha looked around, she could see the signs of what once used to be a bridge. A wooden stump was buried into the earth and where she sat, wooden planks dangled over the edge of the cliff and into the water. This had once been a gateway to connecting the tribes together, but something had happened to make the Nah Barros isolate themselves from everyone. Maliha couldn’t hold back her questions any longer, not when remnants of a past she did not know was still visibly present all around her.

“What happened here? What happened to this tribe?” And why had they let her go? Maliha kept the most important question to herself but Kaori seemed to read into what Maliha could not say.

“I’m not sure where to start,” he sighed, looking at the lashing water in consideration. “I suppose what happened to our tribe was that we lost our heart and a tribe without a heart is a tribe barely living.”

Maliha could see that truth all around her. They lived on this island with nothing and no one but the same people they had known all their lives. It was sad, yet it seemed that many tribes of this nation had begun to do the same.

“You see, quite some years ago when you were just a baby, we engaged in a war against the Der Surjaz. It was a long and gruesome battle. They were worthy opponents fighting for their Razi even though his mind had slipped away.

We had a life to avenge as I am sure you know and so we did not stop until we had pierced Kain’s heart with an arrow. He didn’t die right away but we knew the poison would eventually claim him. The Der Surjaz surrendered swiftly after he took ill and we agreed that we would help them restructure their tribe in the death of Kain once we had tended to our wounded.”

“But you never did!” Maliha spat accusingly.

The La Aquy and the Nah Barros had torn apart the Der Surjaz tribe and left a young traumatised and orphaned boy to sit upon a crumbling throne with no help or guidance except for those very same people who had stood idly by and watched Der Surjaz ruler after Der Surjaz ruler poison their land. The Der Surjaz had tried to scramble together and piece back what had been broken but they had been struggling for centuries and this war had been the final blow. The tribe Maliha knew and had come to love as her own had so much heart but had so many flaws all because they had been split apart. First by their corrupted ruler who had been selfish and cruel and then by the absence of a guiding hand. The der Surjaz had been abandoned when they needed the most help. Ujarak had been abandoned. His resentment of the Nah Barros and in turn Maliha was starting to make sense to her.

Kiaori looked away in self-reproach and Maliha felt a small gnawing of guilt for her harsh words. She had to try not to judge when she had no idea the burdens and pain they had all carried.

“Our intentions were always true but in the fray of the battle we started to lose our humanity and when we returned home, what little we had left completely disappeared.” Water lined Kaori’s dark eyes as he stared off into the distance, his hands shaking as he stroked along his face full of scars. “When my tribe returned home… what we saw made it hard for us to remember our promises. It made it hard for us to feel love or compassion.”

“What did you see?” Maliha whispered, her hand touching him affectionately. Kaori turned towards her, his much larger and darker fingers wrapping around hers. He stared down at her hand for some time before gaining the gumption to finally speak.

“Our home was on fire. It was everywhere. Bodies lay limp on the floor as what was left our warriors tried to fight against this darkness that he tainted our nation. Screams filled the air and I couldn’t-” Kaori’s voice cracked, and his hand began to quiver within Maliha’s grasp. She squeezed his hand in support prompting Kaori to keep going when he was ready. Kaori swallowed back the choking sob in his throat. “I couldn’t replace you or your mother. Everything was in a disarray and it was all my fault,” He spat. “While we were out there fighting and killing each other they were here, attacking our tribe, attacking my wife, my children.”

The guilt had eaten away at Kaori for years, tainting his heart and making him a cold man. He showed affection to those amongst his people, those who had suffered where he had suffered but outside of his tribe, Kaori had found no empathy. The long years had not provided him with any solace.

“I don’t know what happened. Many people have different accounts and in the chaos of the moment no one truly knows but from what has been confirmed, your mother was surrounded by Svolik and instead of fighting them like a native of the Bah Barros would have done, she ran. I believe they followed her and that was the last time she was seen alive.” The anger and guilt clashed across his face in vicious battle.

“Why did she run?”

“Your mother was never the type to fight especially not when she would lose more if she tried. You see, not only did your mother hold the Daharrasol that they sought across her neck, but she also held you. She couldn’t risk you. Makaio was old enough to know how to draw his powers, amongst our tribe they learn young, but you, you were just a baby and in her panic, she ran.”

“She ran to protect me?”

“Yes, and they followed after her.”

The two sat in silence as Maliha absorbed all the information her father had loaded onto her. Her mother had loved her, they all had. She had belonged here, but her fathers need for revenge had changed his heart and caused him to turn blind. He had engaged in a war that neither tribe had ever needed to fight and because of this war, this divide in the nation, the Svolik had been able to ruin the heart of this tribe. The darkness was a plague and it had spread into the hearts of many whilst taking even more lives.

“Did you ever replace her? My mother, that is?”

“We searched for weeks on end, spreading the word through the tribes. Eventually, her body was returned to us, without you and without our holy metal. We have been without our heart for long, having you back may restore the balance that was disrupted the night you and my Iona were taken from me.”

At his mention of balance, Maliha remembered the hoy metal she had been carrying with her since she had been older enough for the Melikit tribe to hand it to her.

“I think I have something that can restore the balance, but it is not me.”

“What do you-“ Kaori’s sniffled words ground to a halt as Maliha pulled the beautiful gold necklace from her pocket and attempted to place it into Kaori’s calloused palm.

“I don’t know how I survived, or how I came to be with the Melikit tribe but they gifted me with this when I was old enough to know that I was different from them. I didn’t know what it was, or who I was but through travelling, I have discovered parts of me that had always been hidden. When I stumbled across the Der Surjaz Land, I felt a connection, it was as if something had sucked me in and refused to let me leave. Even when they did despicable things, like branding me,” Maliha pointed to the shoulder they had branded her on when she had first arrived. “Or when they pierced my nose, and cut my hair,” she motioned to the hole in her nose where the chain had once hung and her short-cropped hair. “Even When they showed no love for an orphaned child, or a blind girl, even when they did all of these abhorrent things I still felt the need to stay.

I could never understand why but I am starting to believe that I was supposed to stay there so I could learn about my heritage. So, I could learn to embrace who I truly was. Through the Der Surjaz, I was taught the importance of this holy metal so that when the Goddess revealed my truth, I would know what I had to do.” Maliha stared down at the glimmering gold in her palm. The beautiful necklace that told the story of an ancestry that flowed thickly through Maliha’s blood. A story of many tribes that all shared one beginning and one maker. “I am not sure if I belong here amongst the Nah Barros but being amongst the Der Surjaz made me realise that I was always supposed to replace them, so they could lead me to you.”

Maliha wiped the tears that had begun to wipe down her father faces before trying to hand him the holy metal. Kaori gently pushed her hands away before pulling her into a tight embrace. Maliha’s cries joined his heart-breaking sobs. Together they held each other as they purged their bodies of the pain that had clung to their hearts.

Kaori slowly released Maliha as their crying subsided. He stared deeply into his daughters’ vibrant green eyes. She reminded him so much of his Iona it was too hard to look at her. Though Maliha had his dark hair as opposed to Iona’s auburn, and quite a few of his facial features, the structure of her face and the gentleness that radiated out of her heart reminded him so much of his late wife.

Kaori told Maliha as much, as they slowly made their way down the rocks. water tickled at Maliha’s feet as they began the long walk back to the heart of the Nah Barros land.

“Do you ever think you will rebuild the bridge?”

Kaori’s steps halted as he looked back at the burnt remnants that had once connected his tribe to the world. Staring back at his daughter he clasped her hand in his and gently prodded her into walking again.

“After I had burnt the rest down in a rage after receiving your mother’s body, I never thought I would. I was too angry, at myself and at the world.”

“And now?” Maliha prompted gently.

“This year was our first year in returning to the gathering. For many, we haven’t truly attended, at least your brother and I have not. Representatives have occasionally attended but it was never the same. This year we did attend after being impelled by an unlikely ally.” When Kori mentioned the unlikely he looked at Maliha with a small smile which had her heart racing, hoping against all hopes that Ujarak had indeed come here like her aunt Filsan had alluded to.

“In a roundabout way, what I am saying is that we were slowly reacquainting ourselves with the outer world and having you here, has only reaffirmed the need to do so. We cannot remain isolated from the world, not any longer. Our hatred and anger must be abated, and we must only love. The bridge will be rebuilt.”

Maliha pulled Kaori into another hug before they continued their walk back to her father’s spacious home. Enzo’s small body came barrelling out of the home, the moment Maliha was in a close distance. His arms squeezed her tightly as she buried his head into her waits.

“V’adar Enzo,” Maliha chuckled when the boy refused to let her go.

“Love you,” he muttered, squeezing her tighter before grabbing her hand and leading her back inside. Maliha looked at her father for insight but he merely shrugged and sniggered at Enzo’s wild behaviour.

The moment Maliha stepped inside of her father’s home, Maliha instantly knew why. A woman who looked almost identical to Enzo sat at the table talking softly with Filsan.

“Maliha,” Filsan greeted. “This is Jiya.”

“Hello Jiya,” Maliha muttered back dryly, clenching onto Enzo tighter to her body.

Taking in all of her features and comparing them to Enzo. She had slightly darker and silkier hair that hung in massive waves down her back, small strands of red threading through her hair. She had wide rosy lips that stood out against her bronze skin tone and a small pert nose. But her most striking features were her chiselled jawbone and the serpent-like eyes that flickered back at Maliha beneath thick lashes. Her eyes were a burning amber that flitted in between hues as if a lambent fire lived within her orbs.

Even without verbal acknowledgement, Maliha knew that this woman was a relative of Enzo and Enzo’s reaction made it all the more obvious that he knew exactly who she was.