Saharabi: Awaken the Veil

Blessed Descendants

The vibrant music resounded through the night as the people of Saharabi swayed and twirled in sheer delight, their colourful attire shimmering under the festival lights. The fusion of colourful lights and melodic tunes embodied the essence of my beloved homeland. Saharabi is renowned for her grand festivities, transcending mere splendour with deep-rooted significance in our sacred traditions. Today's jubilance marks the Festival of Anointing – Fees Van Salwing – an occasion that holds a special place in the hearts of my people, but not mine.

As I watched the festivities, my mind wandered, heavy with thoughts far removed from the celebration before me. Instead, I thought of Saharabi, a magnificent land stretching far beyond the horizon, known for its vast desert springs, enchanting meadows, captivating gardens, and tranquil forests. My home with springs that breathe life into everything.

I've never seen the rest of the world, but I know that my home holds tremendous beauty, more so, in her people. Power manifests in Saharabi, as a land that reflects her people. Blessed by Amaryssa, the goddess of spring. Every man, woman, and child radiates a captivating beauty and strength from her. Nour Amaryssa gifted the people of Saharabi to live in harmonious coexistence with the natural world. They embrace the gifts bestowed upon them, never abusing their privileges – for the most part. In turn, Nour Amaryssa's sacred offering of vitality ensures the fervent youth and allure of my people. That is why they are called Mubarik – blessed.

The blessings bestowed upon our nation are abundantly diverse. The Shifaa, our healers, mend wounds and cure illnesses. Closest in kind to Amaryssa, they restore vitality to themselves and the rest of us. Yet, their true strength is often underestimated. The Shifaa are tested through combat. Vars Damu, another one of Saharabi's grand festivities, examines their fortitude to heal and fight simultaneously.

The Tayyibah, maestros of the elements, command earth, water, fire, and air. It was the first gift given. It means pure. The power to sculpt the world around them, conjure natural calamities, and harness the primal forces of creation. This gift was to protect the purity that was now masked by the desire to see their people fight to the death. Lives barely lived outside of the confines of Saharabi.

The little ones in front of me marvelling at the sight of rings of fire, and creatures brought to life by water and earth. I did not doubt in mind that they had not seen Krag. Yet, the wonders of this festival that put Saharabian gifts on display would teach them that all this killing was good. Their little minds would brim with excitement today henceforth, as they begin to hope. Hope, that they too would be chosen descendants and a festival be held in their honour.

I couldn't stomach the thought. The knot at the pit of my stomach demanded I step away. Watch from afar. A higher vantage point would help me find Adil and Siya. Maybe then, I could convince them to go to our retreat, away from this place.

Settling on a small hill nearby, I let my hands fall to my sides, feeling the lush greenery underneath them. If I appreciated the grass this much, the Verdari, with their deep connection to the forest, did so at another level. Communicating with and commanding flora. I start to wonder if the grass would be on the same page with me about Salwing. They were forced to partake in all this, as grass under our feet, they could not move when blood splattered on them from battle. If they could speak what would they say? Would the earth stand with me? Only the Verdari could know. Their senses attuned to the whispers of every leaf, the dance of each vine, and the birth of life in the earth of Saharabi, they unlocked an ancient wisdom living only in the arboreal realm. Young and wise, tapping into the secrets whispered by the trees, drawing upon the profound history etched into the bark of every remaining arboreal elder left standing. They defend nature, healers nurturing its wounds and historians, preserving the sacred narratives that echo through the forest. So I wondered why they stayed quiet about this.