Shackled

Released

The child spends time with her father in his final moments. He blesses her with a token of power, his blood. A palm of the rose colored liquid permanently stains her back opposite a smaller palm from her mother. It darkens her brown skin as it settles into it. Once the chieftain takes his last breath, she releases tears she was holding back to appear strong before him.

His body now lays limp in the pile of fancy pillows and high quality sheets. Tikal's back is still to him as she weeps silently. She knew this day was coming. She had time to grieve before the actuality of losing her father set in. It's here now and, even with her days of preparation, she struggles to maintain sanity. Her small frame begins to rattle. Her hands weakly hold her head. They quickly puddle with water pouring from her bloodshot eyes.

The quaking pauses as another hand gently rests on her back. Kneeling next to her is her father's best friend and vizier, Akef. "We will bear this lose together, Tikal," he kindly says. "Your father is trusting you with the wellbeing of our people. I believe you are fit for the position but many may not. Know that I am here for you as I was for your father." She looks up to him, her face soaked with pain. Determination breaks through her distress and anguish. She returns a confident glare to him. "We will be fine. Just stay focused. Take a walk to recollect. I will have the release ceremony prepared," he says while cleaning her face with his sleeve.

Tikal nods. She takes one look back at her papa and reaches for a few dirty rags he used for his wounds. After wrapping one to her wrist, the child rises and departs. Upon exiting the ornate tent, Rashad is waiting for her. She takes a deep breath and walks past him but grips his hand tightly. He follows her lead as a crowd begins to swallow the  tent behind them. The word has spread from the doctor and nurse of the passing of their leader. Tikal looks back just in time to see Akef tending to the curious tribespeople.

The two teens slip through the flowing traffic. Once they are clear of the public eye, Tikal yanks him around the corner of a tent. She buries her face into his chest. She breaks down again. Rashad is unsure of what to do except hold her tightly and caress her tightly coiled afro. He sits her down to support her more easily and sings her the lullaby of my people.

"Rest in my wing,
Rest while I sing,
Your next morning,
Promises I'll bring,
Any and everything."

She lies in his lap, whimpering like a lost pup. Over time, she regains her composure. Rashad allows silence to be the healer after his kind song. They don't move from that spot for some time. "I need to see if Akef needs help with preparations," Tikal finally breaks the quiet they were surrounded by. Rashad nods, and helps her up without a word. "The cave the tribe found will be his resting place..." she mumbles. "I will remember this place and return to it regularly. Will you come with me from time to time?"

"Of course," he answers. The less fortunate boy dusts off his friend in her unfortunate state. "I'm with you forever, remember?" He smiles at her and it lightens her mood enough to smile back at him. She rewards him with a kiss on the lips before departing. He freezes from her affection and watches her wander to the cave that will be her father's tomb. They remain separate for the remainder of the day. Night creeps it's way in as it does ever so gracefully. A line of the tribespeople forms as they walk to the cave.

Not too far into the tomb, workers have prepared a ceremonial scene. An alter stands before a small pool of water. Seven chairs are lined up behind the table that holds the artifact that I bestowed upon them. It is what we as gods use to lend our strength to our followers. The Mask of Bazra lies comfortably in a pile of white feathers. It resembles the left side of an owl's face, plated in gold with black accents for the beak and eye. Lanterns and candles decorate the large open area before the center piece of the room, Osirus' sarcophagus. Gems and other precious stones are embedded in the spectacularly crafted coffin. Padded fabrics surround the tightly wrapped body of the Sabali Chieftain.

Just like water, the people that have come to witness the release ceremony pool in the center of the room. The council of six and Akef are seated at the alter chairs, looking down on the crowd. After the last few kindred wander in, Akef approaches the alter table.

He speaks boldly to the crowd. "My dear Sabali tribe. We are here tonight to send off a great leader and to also induct a new one." His gaze drifts to Tikal. She sits near her father's final resting place but is no longer crying from her loss. Akef continues, "We say goodbye to a friend but only temporarily. For we all will one day achieve eternal motion in the afterlife. Though his body is still, his spirit is moving within us all. Let us meditate on his wisdom and power."

Every eye in the tomb closes. Each member brings two fingers just below their left eye and their bodies begin to glow a gentle blue.

"Now let us light the way to his place in the night sky," Akef commands. He lifts his hand to the sky and the people do the same shortly after. I accept the release of his spirit. His soul, I will welcome into my realm. Come, king. Join the ranks of your ancestors and loved ones. The wrapped body glows as the others did and a mist drifts from it. The blue glow fades from each faithful follower as their mists blend with his and bolt into the crevice above them.

"It is proven. With the strength of his people, his spirit has reached the heavens," he continues. "Rest easy, my friend," he mumbles. "Now for the next step of this ceremony... the new leader of our tribe must be accepted..."