The Lost Tribe: Maliha the Wanderer (Book 1)

Roots

Maliha sat inside the room, fingers twiddling as she waited for the council to hear Tanzim's plea. To hear her story and to judge accordingly. Her knowledge of their process for judging was bare minimal, making it exceedingly clear to Maliha that she knew hardy anything about this tribe.

She knew the foundation of their beliefs but she did not know how they judged or even if they did.

How could she be a guardian to young Namali if she did not know the way of the tribe? Her lack of knowledge was only one more thing added to her list of worry.

Even worse was perhaps the way Ujarak had treated her. Maybe it had been her imagination, her mind was still recovering from the ordeal she had gone through and She hadn't even processed all the emotions of the day. She hadn't come to terms with what she had done. Who she was.

These things and their implications hadn't registered in her mind right away, but what did, was Ujarak's cold behaviour and his dismissive attitude.

He had practically dumped her in this room, storming from it with not even a backward glance let alone some consoling words. She understood that as the Razzi of the tribe, there was a lot for him to do and maybe he even blamed himself for some of the events of the days. He was an important man amongst the tribe so she could understand how he may become preoccupied, but Maliha needed his comfort. She needed soft words and soft arms, not a cold demeanour and isolation.

How long would they have her sitting in this bleak and sterile room while they deliberated on her and Tanzim's future?

She could not take this listless waiting. Her mind ran amuck as she reclined on the soft bed in this barely furnished room.

"What happens now?" She murmured listlessly to the plain walls. Not even an echo responded to her words.

She wanted to leave this room, to storm down the corridor and into that assembly where they listened to Tanzim's words, and demand she be allowed to stay but Her head pounded her. She felt weak and jittery, her teeth clattering with a sudden chill that climbed over her.

She lay there for what seemed like hours, the house creaking and the soft call of children lulling her into a restless sleep.

Sweat glided down her skin as she tossed and turned. Scorching flames scoring at her skin as the raging inferno soared and engulfed whole villages. Gut wrenching screams reverberated in her mind.

All she could see was red. Aggressive, flickering flames roaring to the sky and engulfing all with its fury. The fire climbed heavenwards until there in the middle stood a woman with red flaming hair and eyes the colour of a grey so pale they almost seemed white. Her eyes flashed and then the plumes engulfed her until there lay nothing in the flickering remnants of that aggressive fire, but her ashes and a gold medallion that glistened so bright it was as if the sun was harnessed within it. The medallion shimmered with such opulent light, the sharp gleam burned at the back of Maliha's skull and scalded her mind with a painful white light.

"Maliha."

Breath gasped through Maliha's lips as her eyes shot open, her body jerking awake as she wheezed for breath. Her hands shook as she pushed the short, slick strands of her hair from her face. The dream slipping from Maliha's mind as consciousness forced her awake. Her fingers subconsciously clenched at her neck, tickling along the bare skin and not finding the heavy weight that should be nestled there.

Sweat glided down her skin as she tried to make sense of the remnants of her dream that kept flashing in her mind.

"Maliha."

she nearly jumped out of her skin as a pair of eager eyes stared back at her.

"Enzo." She huffed. "You scared me" her shaky hands clenching at her thudding heart.