Zahrani

[lakhena]

Prologue

Her limbs felt heavy, the veil of deep slumber not yet fully lifted as she fluttered her eyes open. Something had changed about her chambers – but it was hard to place what. A heavily perfumed incense burned, thin curlicues of smoke rising into the air, mesmerizing, inviting her to give into her drowsy state. With a soft sigh, she closed her eyes, only noting before she slipped back into slumber that the servants had not removed her jewelry yet.

--

Once the priestess had succumbed to the smoke of the sandalwood mixed with valerian, the handsomely clad man stepped out from the hidden panel that even she did not realize gave easy access to her chambers. His fingers brushed the silver ankh that lay atop her bosom, before pressing against his lips. They would never know what became of her, and she would never know the reason why. Even if she could ask him, he had no answer that would satisfy her. His job was simple – to make her disappear.

[lakhena]

She woke with a start, trying to catch the fading remnants of the dream. It felt important, but nevertheless slipped from her mind as water through a sieve. They had been memories of what had been home, before the past few days. With a soft sigh, she shook off the drowsiness and opened her eyes to her new reality.

This room was different from the last. Her companion had spared no expense, indulging her with the largest suite that could be found outside the royal palace, or so the owners of the establishment had claimed. Opulent furnishings, tasteful sculptures, and a hot soaking bath with bergamot and orange blossoms -- these all felt comfortable, familiar.

She had told him of her unease, her discomfort with having to do everything for herself. She had always had help with even the smallest of things, like dressing and adorning herself with jewelry. And though spices perfumed the city of Marsember, the air did not smell the same, the aromas mixing with the swamp and water, rather than the desert wind, sand and sun.

He understood her, better than she had expected. Moreso than the Mulani who had slandered the anointed of the Lady of All Love. Jabari Hahpet. She would remember that name, vowing that if she did nothing else in this land, she would bring him to his knees, to beg forgiveness for the blasphemy he had spewed before her and the others present in that godsforsaken settlement.

Though the Lady of All Love is a generous, kind goddess, her priestesses do not take unveiled death threats lightly.

[lakhena]

She brushed the stray lock of hair that obstructed her view of his rough, but handsome features. He had simply collapsed, mid-sentence, and it was clear that he did not wish others to know the truth of his condition. Therefore, she could not rely upon those that seemed to be his friends. She had to stay, keep watch, and ensure his rest was not disturbed.

With the thought of his friends returned the throbbing of her head, a sharp pain that flickered at the edge of her temples.

The one named Jabari had drawn his blades upon her, in full sight of others, in the midst of the settlement, after a heated exchanged. She had raised her arms to the sky, bared her chest to him, and offered a prayer to the goddess that her spilt blood be accepted as a sign of devotion and the price of forgiveness for any past transgressions made by her and those who had allegedly wronged the man.

However, the Lady of All Love was compassionate and kind. Sharp steel had not kissed her flesh, a clear sign of the Lady’s favor, given Jabari’s hatred for all those in service to Isis. Perhaps the Lady of All Love had also sent the one before her, as a message to not despair, to keep faith, and serve as best as she could, given the circumstances.

The tips of her slender fingers touched the three painted circles upon her forehead, as she dipped her head in prayer.

[lakhena]

Even without the evening breeze, she was cold. The two elves had left to try to find the creature that haunted the settlement. They claimed that it haunted the mage, seeking release from its pain, desiring its freedom. She had offered to see if it was buried within the small graveyard beside the temple to Silvanus. And so she stood amidst the gravestones there, studying the etched lines of each, speaking aloud the names of the dead and offering them a blessing from the Lady of All Love, that their rest remain undisturbed by whatever malevolence present within the settlement. Upon each gravestone she sprinkled a few droplets of holy water and tossed a handful of the rose petals she had so carefully gathered.

She drew in a deep breath, drawing more tightly the thin white cloak about her shoulders. There would be little rest that night.