Words of Swords

1 . 2

"My Lord." Bala bowed with a deference Abu found questioning. "His Majesty, the King, sends you an invite to a feast held in Prince Muhammad Ala's honour."

The soldier bowed too, handing Abu a scrolled up parchment which he took and unraveled, revealing a written statement signed with the King's stamp. The sprawled up Arabic script written in the Hausa tongue read of how Kallam would be honoured to host one of the sons of Ibrah and have him join in the merriment he played a vital role in bestowing upon them, even stating Abu as the esteemed guest of honor. A rhetoric Abu found blatantly deceiving but pretended to be floored by anyways.

"Gladly. My Lord." Abu said, ceasing his opportunity to return the meretricious gesture and it was Bala who gazed upon him questionably this time.

"We shall be expecting you." the Vizier nodded, choosing to ignore the brazen Blue Skin and strode away with the soldier in tow.

~•*•~

The silver ornament hung around Dije's neck and rested on her chest, a perfect compliment to the purple of her inner gown and the threads of silver embroidered on her purple cloak. Her face as always was hidden away in the shadows of the cloak's hood and much to her attendant's dismay, devoid of any makeup; Even on this special occasion of a feast in her beloved brother's honor.

"You know, just a bit of kohl would have made a mountain of a difference." Kulu stated, still brooding over her mistress's refusal to the red of berries to color her lips or the white of chalk to powder her face and even the black of kohl to line the edges of her eyes and sharpen up her dulled orbs.

Her mistress stood still before the looking glass, a mere shadow of who she was supposed to be staring back at her and for the first time in three moons, Dije acknowledged how she didn't remember the contours of her face to be this prominent, or the skin under her eyes to be this swollen, she acknowledged she was no more the Khadija her twin brother had once called so lovingly to.

Ala was right, he wouldn't be happy seeing me like this.

But she quickly averted her eyes fearing that thought would be enough to convince her that she didn't deserve all this, that it wasn't right to inflict this pain upon herself, that it wasn't live in such torture.

The stars were quite that night, the music of their twinkles having ceased, shocked upon the sight of Dije tracing her steps through a path she had only in secret dared to walk on, in search of one she dared not say. She had quietly slipped out of the room, for fear of Kulu's apprehension to the idea and pleas to drop the senseless escapade for the sake of tonight and thus, delay to execute it. Even as she left the vicinities of her chambers and continued into the dark of night where no torches fixed on walls were in sight, Dije walked cautiously. Head turning to her sides and back, vision straining to make sure even the faintest shadow wasn't aware of her and ears straining to catch any sound that wasn't that of her feet stepping on dry twigs or the chirps of crickets and thankfully, till she reached her destination, there was none.

Dije stood before a creature, his strong build slowly waning into weakness, his majestic height now crunched to a slump of a massive head hanging down and spirit that had once shone in pride, neighing as he galloped gallantly, now extinguished and wallowing with misery. But one thing remained the same about the horse; the darkness of his coat of hairs. A dark that challenge the dark of the night that blanketed him, a dark that had made it so easy for him to melt into the night and remain hidden for the past three moons. Dare was as pitch black and as deeply dipped in soot as the night after which he was named.

"I missed you too Dare." Dije whispered after the horse neighed at her, acknowledging her presence.

The last bit of him she was able to preserve was in this melancholy darkness of the seven feet tall Arabian horse. The last bit of her half; the last bit of her Hali.