The Lost Tribe: Maliha the Wanderer (Book 1)

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Maliha was jarred awake by rough hands and a panicked voice. Nails dug into her skin as she was ripped awake by the urgent person.

"Maliha."

Maliha's bleary eyes speared open to the damp face of Darsan. Her blonde hair was sprawled across her shoulders and her clothes were dishevelled as if she hadn't had the time to get ready properly.

Maliha sat up and wiped at her face slowly. She was exhausted, her body was aching from her dance just last night and her eyes were killing her as the ceremony had continued on until the early hours of the morning. She had literally just fallen asleep a few hours ago and now she was forced to not only be awake but to actually function.

"Darsan." Maliha sighed while rubbing at her temples in exhaustion.

"You have to stop them," the girl cried.

Her face was red and blotchy, and snot ran down her nose in an unpleasant display.

"Stop who?" Maliha huffed.

It was too early in the morning for riddles.

"Them. They are going to fight. Please Maliha, you have to talk to them."

Darsan began yanking on Maliha's arm, trying to pull Maliha from her bed with such urgency that her nails tore at Maliha's arms.

Her words were incomprehensible as she sobbed and pleaded for Maliha to move.

Maliha shook of Darsan's grip and climbed out of her palet, shoving her thin blankets aside.

"Give me a moment."

Maliha was beyond tired, her head was pounding her with the need for more sleep, but she could not ignore Darsan's pleas for help. Plus, she doubted that Darsan would actually allow her to sleep.

Maliha reluctantly got ready for the day, washing her face and cleaning her teeth with a crushed mint paste. She rinsed as much of the hair growth oil out or her hair and quickly dried it with a piece of cloth before tying the much longer strands back with a thick band of leather. She quickly wiped her body with a damp cloth before flinging on some clothes and shoes.

As soon as she was ready, Darsan gripped her hand in an unbreakable hold and yanked her from the tent. The sun had barely begun rising but already Maliha could tell that something was different. There were too many people awake at this hour. There was too much noise. The boisterous activity was not normal for this time of day, especially after last night's event.

"This way," called Darsan.

She led Maliha through the bodies of chattering people until they reached the main fire pit. The pit had been cleaned of all logs for the fire and the earth had been smoothed down until it was all one flat surface and the fire was nothing but a distant memory.

"What is going on?" Maliha questioned.

Confusion was heavy in her mind as she tried to piece together all the clues. The area where the higher ups usually ate was levelled and a ring of people had formed as if there would be a main event in the middle.

A fight.

Darsan had said there would be a fight.

"Darsan," Maliha mumbled. "Who is fight-" 

Maliha's mouth hung wide as a topless Ray'et stepped forward into the circle, his dark skin glimmering under the rising sun.

Dread pooled in Maliha's stomach as his bare feet padded on the ground. His long hair was tied back in a tight bun and all of his weapons were discarded to the side.