Saharabi: Awaken the Veil

Lies and Truths

Nia's sudden inclusion baffled and angered me. She posed no threat, so why was she targeted? The smug councilmen behind this deserved to face the fate they had planned for her. But I felt helpless.

As the crowd waited, unaware of my inner turmoil, I had to utter those senseless words once again: "At last count..." It was agonizing to play along with this absurdity, putting on a show that broke my heart.

Tears welled in my eyes as Nia stepped forward. She walked with determination, yet fear consumed her. She despised this festival, now forced to partake in it. It felt like I was condemning her to a fate that I couldn't save her from. Lost and unsure of what to do, I had long awaited guidance from Amaryssa, but since the day I found Nia by the river, I had received almost nothing.

From the earliest days, Nia possessed an aura that captivated all who beheld her, even as a baby. Her words held power beyond her years; many a time, she could mesmerize others with her wisdom and bring them to reason. Some believed her beauty and aura indicated great inherent abilities. But the day came when she shattered those expectations by revealing she had no gift. Still, there was something there.

Recalling that memory always brings a smile. At three years old, there was a task to fill as many flagons as possible. It was a standard test to assess the children's problem-solving skills and how they would utilize their gifts. The objective is to fill these barrels with whatever materials are compatible with your gift as quickly as possible. I remember it like it was yesterday. Siyani, being Qadim, had his familiar fill his with water without having to lift a finger. Most Qadim would use the opportunity to showcase their shifting skills—I was one of them—but that was usually irrelevant to the problem-solving portion of the task. Adil also stood out amongst the Nazarra. It was a great display of power for his age. The Nazarra's bilocation usually starts off as simple transportation; they think it, and then they appear there. But at six years old, Adil's understanding of replication already manifested. Like the illusions they create, the Nazarra simply build a replica of a moment and convince you that their replica is real. Their bilocation is creating a replica of themselves elsewhere. Adil was the only Nazarra among his peers to do that. He created an illusion of his flagon being filled, then took it a step further and used his bilocation to get the water for his empty flagon before it was inspected by the judges.

This simple test catered to all Mubarik except the Shifaa. They had to learn that there was a time for everything. A time for wits and a time for strength. It challenged their way of thinking in their first decade of life. From my brief travels, I know our way of life would be shocking, but we were not like others. That was why we were separate from the rest of the world.

Though for Saharabians, nothing was more shocking than Nia's refusal to rely on any gifts. While her peers demonstrated their abilities, she worked differently. It was the funniest, most astounding thing I ever witnessed. When enough children had filled their flagons, she simply walked by each of them, specifically the ones with water, then poured some into hers little by little before bowing and thanking them all for their generosity. I hadn't seen mouths drop so quickly; everyone was at a loss for words. And I was one of them. She returned to her place. When she was asked why she didn't make use of her gift, she boldly declared, "I am not Mubarik. I cannot use what I don't possess."

In Saharabi, power was ingrained from birth, but Nia was different, small in stature yet a force to be reckoned with—my mother affectionately called her "small but mighty." She completed the task with manners and intellectual acuity, most of all with no gifts. Her lack of a gift has never hindered her in any way. That thought gave me some peace.

Witnessing Nia's anointment felt like observing a warrior from the tales of the goddess realm. Her stance exuded unwavering conviction, and her aura radiated fierce determination to survive. Deep within my soul, I hoped she would, and I would do whatever it took to aid her, starting with the despicable councilmen who orchestrated this. We were already preparing.