Shula desert-flame: the beginning

"Shula, the desert flame, dancer of the winds, singer of the beasts." Gradfather began. Sumatra inched closer to listen to him tell the story of the fourth "wild daughter of the desert". 

"Shula was the fifth born daughter of Kahlid the fair. It is said that the day she was born was heralded by the dance of the living flames-" The older man, known to many as the king but simply 'grandfather' to this child was interrupted.

"The dance of the living flames, grandpapa?" She questioned. Brown eyes shone with curiosity.

"Yes, Sumatra. The dance of the living flames was a strange happening that has not come about in centuries… Supposedly small elements of the fire would leap free and dance upon the desert sands, whilst burning nothing." The elder man responded indulgently. Sumatra's eyes widened with awe and she giggled with no little glee.

"Now, as I was saying. Her birth was heralded by the dance of the living flames. Records claim that the babe was born with wild curls of the darkest night, which could not be tamed even at that early age. It was claimed that her wails were strong enough to be heard throughout the palace, and their strength was a herald of the girl to come."

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         "Shula! You get back here this instant, or Ra help me, I shall call your brother to fetch you back!" The governess cried, leaning out the window. Shula's wild laughter rose upon the winds as her tangle of untamed curls tossed like the tempest sea.

         "Ra-amun would never dare! He'd be shaking in his boots by the time he took a single step from the window!" The seven year old cried back. The governess growled in frustration.

         "Your father will not be happy that you are skipping your lessons again young lady!"

         "My father is busy with is ladies and will not pay a hare's wit to your complaints!" Shula responded spiritedly. The girl clung with the ease of a monkey to the side of the tower, not at all fazed by the length of ground beneath her. The governess cried out in rage and stormed from the window.

         And that is another governess down! HAH! Soon enough papa will have to give up this idea of having me trained by a governess and let me be schooled with my brothers! Shula laughed again, grasped the thick vines that grew up the wall, and began to climb down. As soon as her small feet were close enough to the ground she dropped, landing in a low crouch. A quick glance about told her that there was no one about to stop her, so off she went to the horse market.

         The guards watched the young princess race past them, bare foot and dressed like a lad. They simply shook their heads… there was no point in trying to stop the princess, she would only escape some other way. At least they knew where she would be.

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Shula could feel the mare before she could even see her. The girl rose up on the balls of her toes, straining to catch a glimpse of the creature through the crowd. It was of no use… so she elbowed and shoved her way to the fence.

"Khan!" she cried, waving to the horse merchant. He grinned,

"Ah, little princess! I was wondering if you'd escape today." He responded as she climbed daringly over the fence and slipped through the herd of horses.

"What's wrong with her Khan?" she asked, fetching up to the pen where the mare lay. The horse was a dull gray-black. There was no shine to her coat like their should be, and she lay listlessly.

"Poison, I fear." The grizzled merchant, "I bought her a few days ago…she seemed fine enough, but….well." he motioned toward her.

"I'm afraid I'll have to put her down…I think it scorpion poison…she shall never recover from it." He sighed. Shula stared into the brown eyes of the mare. The horse stared back, eyes begging for help, begging Shula to save her.

"I want her, Khan." The princess said boldly. The horse startled, looking at her in shock.

"Shula, she won-" he started to protest, till he saw the look in her eyes. Young though she was, every man woman and child in the kingdom knew that when she had that look in her eyes, it was best to not argue. Only her family seemed to have not learned better.

"Alright Shula, she is yours." Shula did not smile, like a normal child would. Instead she continued to stare fiercely into the eyes of the mare, as if she could make her better by sheer force of will.

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"Gosh Shula, when you make a mistake you make it well, don't you?" Ra-amun asked his little sister. The fifteen-year-old heir observed the solid black mare his sister had brought home.

"She's going to die before the week is out, and you simply cry like every other child. Besides, even if she lives she'll be useless." He sighed, feeling sort of bad for her…at least until she responded,

"She will live Amun. Not only that, she'll be better than Seth!" she declared. Her brother bristled at her instance that this half dead mare would top his prized stallion, named after the god of the sands himself.

"Bah. She's going to die, the worthless piece of flesh." He declared again, leaving his sister behind.

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Shula spent the next weeks tending to the mare, whom she named Tempest. Every day she fed her, gave her medicine, groomed her. Often times the stable hands would find her fast asleep against the Mare's side. No one held out hope for the creature, despite Shula's insistence that she should live. Some began to have hope though, as they watched the girl tend to the mare as if she could hear her ills and pains and thusly tend to them.

Soon Tempest began to recover. The days passed and she was able to walk the exercise ring. Then she could eat all of her food. Then her coat began to become glossy and black-blue like the ravens. Then, to the astonishment of all but the young Princess, Tempest ran.

         Not only did Tempest run, but she could run like the desert winds given life. Shula proved herself to be a born horsewoman, riding like she was born in the saddle… or lack there of, as she often rode bareback.

         Finally, months later, Ra-amun was forced to admit Tempest was glory itself, faster than even Seth.


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         "And that was how Shula met one of her best friends, Tempest sand-dancer. The two had many adventures together from that day on, braving sandstorms and angry desert wyrms together…but those are stories for a different time, as it is far past a certain princess's bed time." The king trailed off, fixing his grand daughter with a stern but loving stare.

         "But….grandpapa…."

         "No… no more tonight Sumatra. I shall tell you another story tomorrow." He promised, lifting the little girl up as she began to nod off.

         "Promise?"
         "Of course, little one. The tales of Shula the-desert-flame do not simply go untold." He promised as he tucked her into her bed and watched her fall asleep.