Saliya’s Tale

Part I

There are tales that outlive the teller, mysteries that shall never be known, movements of the winds of time and space that defy understanding, dances of Spirit that send one into breathless ecstasy. Upon such winds we mortals are storm-tossed, within such mysteries we delve deep in our search for the meaning of our existence. This tale, the one I shall lay before you, is one such tale. I, Saliya, now tell thee. For it is mine own…

I was a somber child, dark in appearance and mood. My family could never quite figure out why I was that way. They cajoled and teased and tried repeatedly to make me smile. And, at times, they succeeded. For I was loved. That I knew well. And, I was still a child after all. There were many of us in the family, my father and mother, three brothers and two sisters. So, ever it was noisy and busy. For a somber child of moonlight and shadows it was a merciless hell in miniature. There was no escape for me other than the times I snuck outside late at night and walked under the stars. I could find quiet then, and peace, and an easing of mood not found elsewhere. The desert winds spoke to me of many things. The whispering shadows revealed themselves to me and I came to find comfort within them. The shining stars enfolded me in silent majesty wherein Spirit taught me the magics of the ancients.

I told no one of this. Who would believe such fancies from the mouth of a mere child? But, I knew and held it dear to me, cherished and treasured.

There was one other thing I recall clearly from those long ago days of my childhood. One night, after a particularly stressful day of chattering siblings and bustling parents, I arose from my cage for my nightly easing.

I walked far that night, to the very edge of the oasis. All was still, but for the low murmuring of sands through the dune grasses. I sat down, there at the seeming edge of the world and watched the stars wheeling above. Without warning, a wave of pulsating energy swept over me. I closed my eyes, trying to stay calm and centered. It was so powerful! And I did not understand what was happening. But then the gentle voice came, a trail of whispering almost below the range of sound.

He will come one day. Be prepared, my daughter.

Then, again, the song of the sands and I opened my eyes wide, breathing in short gasps. Such power is not easy for a child to assimilate. Yet, I was not frightened. I was curious, fascinated, awed. Who was he? What did the voice mean? Whom was this claiming me as daughter? Did I not already have a mother? Round and round the questions surged till I was almost dizzy with their labyrinthine twists. I could not encompass it and returned home to lie upon my bed, feeling starlight shimmering through my veins and hearing that voice over and over. I fell asleep to that voice, and an aching wondering within.

I am now a grown woman. Time passes irregardless of memories we cling to, regardless of adult rationalizings about childhood moments, irregardless of any desire to hold to youth. I still remember though, still hold that night as a closely guarded secret. And I yet await his coming.

~from an old roleplay I had begun over in AncientWorlds