Inked Sapphire (Dear Dahlia Season 3)

6

In a time where magic and wonder ruled, lived a girl named Laiyana. She was born and raised in a Suli village west of Keramzin. She had dark brown eyes, light brown skin, and wavy black hair that she alway wore in twin plaits. Her father was a jeweller, and her mother a dressmaker. When returning from his trades elsewhere, Laiyana’s father always brought back something or other for his daughter and wife: a ribbon, some shoes, a pretty dress. One day, he came with a jewel. It was dark blue, and shone like nothing Laiyana had ever seen.

“What is it?” She breathed.
“Sapphire,” Laiyana’s father, Bilal, replied. “Come. I will show you.”

In his workshop, his deft hands created a chain of gold, and attached the jewel to it. He held it out to her. “This is for you.”

Laiyana took it, then threw her arms around her father’s neck and hugged him tight.

A few weeks later, Bilal came back with an emerald. Laiyana again watched him craft it into jewellery. “This will be for Naima,” Bilal said. When he gave it to Laiyana, the eleven-year-old held it high in the air, watching it sparkle in the candles’ light.

The next day, Laiyana headed down the path towards the village square. She found Naima sitting under the shade of a tree, eyes closed. Laiyana watched her friend for a few moments, entranced by her content smile and the way her fringe blew lightly in the breeze.

“I have something for you,” Laiyana spoke, breaking the silence.
Naima cracked open an eye. When she saw her friend holding out the emerald necklace, her eyes widened, and she jumped to her feet suddenly, striding towards her.

“Don’t hold it out like that! Someone might snatch it. Thank you,” Naima added, staring at the emerald necklace before taking it. She put it around her neck, then fiddled with the clasp. “Help me out?”

Laiyana swiftly stepped behind Naima and fastened the clasp. Her nimble fingers lightly brushed Naima’s neck, and the other girl involuntarily shuddered.

“Got it,” Laiyana said simply before stepping away.
“Thanks,” Naima smiled. Then, she grinned. “Race you.”

The two girls ran through the village, laughing as they tried to keep up with one another. Women gasped and gathered up their skirts, stepping back so they wouldn’t get crashed into. Men raised brows and chuckled to themselves as Naima and Laiyana sped past them.

Finally, Naima reached her house, with Laiyana only a few steps behind. She grabbed Naima’s hand, laughing and breathless, and Naima laughed with her. Then, Naima gestured with her head to the back door. She opened it, and held it open for Laiyana. “My liege,” Naima teased, bowing deeply. Laiyana laughed again. Her cheeks hurt from smiling. She thanked her friend, then stepped into Naima’s house.

It was warm and inviting, as always. Laiyana watched Naima’s mother, Sayeda, set the stove alight. A flame danced in her hands. Laiyana blinked.

“Ah Laiyana, how lovely to see you!” Sayeda smiled. She then went over to her daughter and pinched her cheek affectionately. Naima released an indignant huff.

“Mama, really?” she groaned.

The two girls spent the rest of the day in Naima’s house. They played together, read stories together, and peeked curiously at the stove as Sayeda cooked dinner.

In the evening, Laiyana and Naima ate beef stew with carrots and peas, and buttered bread. They helped clean up whilst the birds sang in the garden outside the window. After Laiyana thanked Naima and Sayeda for their hospitality, she set off home, where her mother and father waited for her.

“Make sure to tell us before you go next time!” her mother, Inaya, exclaimed. “Your father was just about to go out and ask about you.”

Laiyana merely blinked and nodded.
“Speak,” sighed Inaya.
“Yes,” Laiyana spoke. “I will tell you next time.”

The fire in the fireplace roared as Inaya sat in the living room, working on a dress. Laiyana sat beside her and Inaya smiled at her daughter.

“One day, I want to be a dressmaker, like you.”
Inaya touched her cheek. “You will be,” she promised. “Once you have learned everything I’ve taught you.”
“And I want to learn how to cook, too.”
“You will. Naima can help you,” Inaya added.

Help. Laiyana did not like help. She wanted to be like Naima, able to go out of the house without companionship, to tour the village alone. But her parents, for all their love, would not let her. Laiyana was prone to misremembering things and sometimes falling over. Once, she had dropped her plate of lunch onto the floor. She hadn’t even realised it was slipping from her hands.

The other children in the Suli village saw Laiyana as a bit strange. Some stayed away from her, others were okay with her. But it was only Naima who wanted to be her friend. Maybe Laiyana would find other friends in time, but Naima was the only one she had, for now.

When Laiyana lay to sleep that night, she heard noises outside her window, and knew the fireflies had come. She threw open her curtains and waved to the little creatures, watching them flitter about for a while before her eyelids grew heavy. Then, she closed her curtains, dowsed the candle, and fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.