The Lost Tribe: Maliha the Wanderer (Book 1)

The Dawn

Warning, this chapter contains topics of abuse.

Maliha jolted awake as a choked cry reverberated through her tent. Her head whipped to the pallet opposite hers to see if it was Enzo, but upon seeing his sleeping face, she was relieved to find that it wasn't.

The whining grew louder and more frequent, the painful sobs were like nothing she had heard before, causing a sense of urgency to rise in her being. They were deep, gut wrenching cries that carried above the lustful noises of the occupants of nearby tents. Cries that spoke of such deep suffering that Maliha felt her heart swelling in pain for the unmasked person.

Forcing back her sheets, she climbed from her warm bed and gathered her shawl around her shoulders. Without putting on her sandals, Maliha stepped outside the dark night and listened for the noise again. A guttural groan ripped her head to the side as the cries became louder from the tent beside her.

Xiuri.

Maliha's heart thudded in her chest as she sprinted the short distance to her friend's tent and yanked open the flap. The tent was dark, except for a small flickering lantern that dangled from one of the beams that kept the tent up.

Dark shadows moved in the corner as the whimpers grew louder those closer Maliha moved to a tossing Xiuri.

Her blankets were discarded by her side in a tangle of sheets, and her night cloth had risen around her thighs as her body was sprawled out on the pallet. Sniffles and pleas tumbled from Xiuri's mouth as her face distorted with grief.

"Xiuri." Muttered Maliha, forcing the damp hair away from her Xiuri's thrashing face.

"Oh Xuri." She sobbed, trying to quell her own cries of grief.

Maliha ran her fingers along Xiuri's head in strong strokes, starting along her forehead and gradually travelling down her nose and across her cheeks. Applying a little more pressure along the soft skin. Maliha's brows knitted together as Xiuri remained stuck in her night terror.

What seemed like hours of Xiuri's unsettled sleep and Maliha's calm strokes along her face, finally ground to halt as Xiuri's eyelids began to flicker. A sharp scream rattled from Xiuri's chest, her hands resting on her heavily thumping heart as she forced her body up.

"Maliha." She cried, a gasp catching in her throat as she wrapped her thin arms around Maliha's shoulders, burying her face in the crook of Maliha's neck in a sigh of relief.

"Oh Xiuri, what plagues you so?"

"Nothing- I" Her body wracked with sobs proving that her words held no truth to them.

"Maliha, if I tell you- I can't." Her head shook vigorously as she wiped at her tears. Head cowering away from Maliha's penetrative haze.

Maliha lifted Xiuri's chin with the tip of her finger and forced her friend to bear her gaze

"You must speak it Xiuri." She whispered, rubbing at the stray tears that glided down Xiuri's rough and scarred cheeks.

Maliha's eyes prompted her to start, beckoned her to cut open her heart and reveal all the cracks and scars it had. Maliha said nothing but her expressive eyes coerced the story from Xiuri's soul. The green pool lured her in, no judgement or contempt rested in those eyes. Just patience and a slither of understanding, though Xiuri wasn't sure how much Maliha could understand when she did not know the depth of the suffering Xiuri had been subjected to.

Xiuri would never wish her kind of pain on her worst enemy, for she knew the grips of the torture extended past the physical. The pain tingled through her nerves, filtered through her veins and planted into her mind. The torment attached to her memories like a leach, draining the life from her one suck at a time. The memories never evaded her, even through sleep, she could find no salvation. Her mind was plagued by the memories of every graphic detail.