Rehan-Chapter I

         “By day and night, the scarlet sun shines over our oasis, slowly but steadily drying it to the bone. The blessing of night does not sanctify our great city, but it abandons us to burn in the growing heat. Our land was once a magnificent metropolis, brimming with life and laughter. Creatures of every kind came from the five corners of Bin-gala to see the great wonders of our city. Our shining palaces and marble streets welcomed all and beckoned travelers into the heart of the City of Spices. In that golden time, princes feasted in golden halls and dancing girls bathed with rose petals in the moonlight. We, the Lekhra people, were a kind and mighty race, the lords of the sands. Sand dragons did our bidding and the world was at our mercy.
 
         “That was all before the Mountains came. In the time of my ancestors, Bin-gala was a beautiful place, but the people were getting restless. There were rumor of an unhappy god, Aralc the Desecrator. He was tired of our society, our ways, our leader, the Amethyst Goddess. He was envious of the love she received from the people. So he gathered followers, trying to attain the esteem we gave to our Goddess, but he failed. Instead of admitting defeat, he grew angrier and angrier. He burned villages, poisoned crops, and murdered thousands of people. His malice was endless, an infinite plague upon the people of Bin-gala. My ancestors cried out to the Goddess for salvation, and she answered our prayer. She summoned all of the gods to a great council upon the Kormal Mountains, and the force of their power turned the mountains’ peaks golden as the sunlight. The council resolved to confront Aralc together on the peak of the mountains. We waited and watched in silence as the sun rose on the day the confrontation was to take place. As the noontime was sung, a dark cloud descended over the golden peaks. Aralc had come.
 
         “A war of the gods raged for months, flashes of their gold and black power blazed across the skies. Bolts of malevolent energy surrounded our city; engulfing it in an evil, black night. No light could penetrate this darkness, save the sparks that came from the mountaintop. We waited in silence, as all around us the crops withered and the livestock were suffocated by the blackness. Many of our ancestors perished in those months of sorrow and silence, but those blessed by the Goddess lived to tell the tale of her glory.
 
         “It was the fourth month of the celestial war, and few were left alive in our great city. Then, through the blinding darkness, shone an amethyst star. As we watched, it ascended slowly into the heavens, pulsating majestically with light. The star shot arrows of light into the surrounding darkness, slicing it back, until it was only a small shadow in the blue sky. As the amethyst goddess’s star sent out one last ray of light the darkness let out a shriek so foul that the onlookers cried upon hearing it. The scream continued as the thing hurled itself towards the earth. Where it landed, in the wastelands on the east coast of Bin-gala, the Goddess raised a vast range of mountains, separating our land from the evil of Aralc. His minions followed him to this cursed land, Alagnib, but with them they took our night. Now, the sun never sets over the desert, and our city is dying.”
 
         The storyteller wheezed and lay back against a pile of rugs.
 
         “Now, my children, I have told you and you will pass on the story of our people.” The old man coughed to the ring of long-eared children huddled in front of him. He reached for a flask of water to his right and sat up to gulp at it.
Rehan backed away form his hiding place at the back of the tent, clutching a bundle tightly to his chest.
 
         “You, street rat!” bellowed a deep voice from behind him. Hearing the voice of his overseer, the small Lekhra boy spun around, running blindly through the maze of tents. A pair of heavy footsteps followed him as he dodged and ducked in between brightly colored tents and under camels tethered to posts. The camp flashed past him, the sights both familiar and strange to him at once. Rehan saw an open flap up ahead and dived into the tent just before his human keeper, Doghen rounded the corner. Without a though, Rehan dived under a pile of red and blue rugs in a corner of the otherwise empty tent. Form under the rugs, he could hear Doghen panting heavily outside. The huge man paced back and forth in frustration.
 
         “Git yer rabbit butt out ‘ere, or I’ll skin those purty little ears for ya!” he yelled, still stomping about inside the circle of tents. Rehan covered his long, scarred ears with his hands instinctively. Even though he still had his hands over his ears, Rehan could hear that Doghen had begun to check the tents. The boy quivered in sheer terror, knowing that he would be caught and brought back to the slave pit.
 
         Doghen had now moved to the tent just to the left of Rehan’s. The sound of him hurling carpets and bowls around was accompanied by loud protestations coming from the occupant of the tent.
 
         After what seemed ages to the huddled Rehan, Doghen was outside of his tent. Rehan could not help uttering a little squeak as Doghen’s boots crunched the pebbles just a few meters away.
 
         There was a muffled thumping sound as Doghen kicked over another pile of carpets. Rehan’s eyes rolled halfway back into his head in dread. He was now shaking uncontrollably, even his nose twitching with fright. He could hear Doghen’s heavy tread on the rug not an earlength away.
 
         Rehan fainted dead away.
 
         Lights swam and danced around him like fairies he thought absently. But, no they weren’t fairies, they dove at him, biting and pinching, screaming nasty things that he could not quite make out. He flailed out, trying to get them away from his ears. They mustn’t touch his ears; he knew that, he remembered now, Mother.
Mother. That was her name. Mother. Her face was above him now, bathed in a soft white light.
         Never forget who you are. Never, never, Rehan; it is below us. But he had, he had forgotten. Tears fell from the sky and landed in his hand, making a tiny salty sea. He had forgotten. He smiled up at his mother’s face, not quite sure of why he was smiling, but smiling none the less. She smiled back and nodded to him, the gold earrings in her long ears jingling slightly. She looked out to her left and Rehan’s gaze followed hers. There was a palace, not his palace, he knew. No, not his. Where was his palace he puzzled? There it was; his palace.
 
         A small mud brick house appeared from through a fog. And there was Mother, hanging up the wash in her brightly colored pants and beaded shirt. A dog came running around the corner, barking at a white chicken that fluttered away in surprise. Rehan laughed and walked toward them, calling to the dog to him. The dog barked and continued chasing the chicken. Rehan called again. The dog, tired of chasing after the disgruntled chicken, sat down on a turtle. Rehan whistled to the dog, then ran toward him, tears steaming down his face. Why didn’t he listen? Why couldn’t he hear him? He picked up a rock and threw it at the dog, who was he to steal his home? It was Rehan’s palace, his own! No one could steal it away from him! The rock flew through the dog and disappeared. Angry, he threw another and another, throwing rock after rock with tears gushing down his cheeks.
         Finally, exhausted, he threw himself down onto a green cloud and curled up into a ball. The flowers danced by his ears and sang him asleep, taking away his worries.
 
         When he woke up, Rehan was on a soft, springy cushion of carpets. The tent smelled of jasmine and mint. He could feel a soft breeze from the flap and he turned to look. Out side was the circle of tents he had seen before. He turned and looked to his left. There was the pile of carpets he had hidden him. He swiftly remembered all that had happened before he had fainted. Where was Doghen?! Why was he still in the tent?
 
         Rehan began to get up, looking around for a way to get out unnoticed. He was sure Doghen would be out in front of the tents, he could not get out that way. He bent down behind the carpets and tried to dig his way out from under the orange fabric. He was halfway through when two strong hands grabbed him around the waist and pulled him back into the tent. He kicked at his captor, trying desperately to free himself, but the grip was relentless.
 
         “Ow, OW! Stop kicking, boy!” That was an old woman’s voice, not the rough gravely voice of Doghen and the other guards.
 
         “Where’s Doghen?” stammered Rehan.
 
         “Doghen?” the old woman screwed up her wrinkled face in thought. “Hmm, Doghen… Ah, the brute who was chasing you. Yeah, I took care of him. Big bruiser comes waddlin’ around, breakin’ things. Well, old Alima ain’t gonna stand for it, no sir! I told him off, I did! Sent him howlin’ back to his mud hole.” she muttered to herself as she hobbled around the tent, rearranging rugs that had been knocked over or pushed askew. Her skirts rustled as she shuffled past Rehan.
 
         “Where do I go now?” he asked meekly.
 
         “Well, fist-off, I suppose you’ll be wanting something to eat, won’t you?” She looked at him accusingly.
 
         “Y-yes please.” He wouldn’t have accepted if he weren’t starving.
 
         “And a wash, those are my rugs you’re putting your grubby little paws on.” She grouched. Rehan looked down at his hands in dismay. Yes, what normally would have been black fingertips were now caked with mud. He had not noticed that in the slave pit. He glared at the offending hands as if reprimanding them for being so dirty.
 
         “Well, what are you waiting for, child?” the old woman barked “Go wash off!” She made a shooing motion toward the flap. Rehan scampered out the flap as quickly as he could. When he had washed at the pump, Alima gave him a good dinner of rice with yellow raisins and meat. Content, he fell asleep in the glow of the fire. Smiling a little in spite of herself, Alima tucked him in to her own bedroll and gave him a quick little peck on the cheek.