In The World Of Losinanda (Completed)

PROLOGUE

It was a narrow walkway up the somber mountain, the soil they had been traveling for a day was red and the trees that grew from it were black. Islela couldn't tell the bark from the branch and the leaves from the flowers, they were all a feathery black, all dead; the plants blood had sank to the soil. If hell had a forest.

The climb had been slow and the nature quiet, bearing witness to another brutal act, one of a thousand of the same kind it had seen before. She had heard no bird sing, no animal growl or an insect borrow, non-wanted to live in such a cursed land to see the slayers of the innocent. There was a strip of grass in the middle of the dusty track, insinuating the trip was usually made by a pair, the path didn't show frequent use but its presence meant it was still worked by failed mothers like her.

She was still weak from childbirth, just two days ago she was screaming and squirming to let the devil's child out of her belly. Islela had been sure the infant would be a boy, a fat lazy boy, accustomed to the warmth and easy life of the womb; he would not help his mother push him out, lazy but a boy, a prince, an anticipated chief.

The midwife or mid-witch had insisted the end of her barrenness would be a tale to be told to the end of times, "The child would be a source of great divide, feared by all, defeated by none, only he would be able to reconcile his own discord" she said. "He?" Islela had cried the tears of joy, bowed to the wicked lady like a loose spring. Now, now what?

She wanted to pull her hair out but she had no strength. The only muscle she had left was to finish the mountain climb, leave the white devil for the cliff, if the fall doesn't kill her, the hyenas will devour her. Islela should die with her, she thought, there wasn't much left for her to get back too. Did I pray for so long to destroy my most waited gift?

Islela knew the possibility of her being able to carry a child in her womb was next to none. The universe had broken her barren hood but this silver-eyed child had ruined her womb.

"I can see the cliff of Swela now, you won't have her weight anymore, but we can't rest there, we will have to get back as soon as we set her on the edge." She did not know the name of her companion, he didn't offer and she didn't ask.

She had met him at a distance outside the village. He was wearing dark velvet clothes to match the vegetation, all were worn out to an under-lit grey. The man was old, his facial lines told, his complexion the color of ink, more blue than black, and his cruel eyes pleasured a slow death. Islela never bothered to look at his face when they spoke, the venom in his eyes made him resemble a snake. But aren't I a snake? What man's labor was to escort mothers who wanted to leave their infants on a cliff, abandoned to meet their deaths alone, she thought. But who am I to judge, I will be the one to put my own child down, to decide my child's fate, all he does is lead the way.

"How do you know they are gone? That they have fallen or the cold has stopped their hearts? How long does it take?" she asked the man. Islela hoped it would be fast, she didn't wish her baby pain.

The little girl had silver eyes when she was born, they had shone so bright it made it hard to look back at her. She had come out with thick white hair, a sharp contrast to her dark brown complexion; she was strange and unusual but beautiful. Too beautiful to throw away.

Islela had noticed the infant's eyes radiated light when she was hungry but, darkened to a black pool when she was feeding, she always smiled at her mother. Her traitor.

But, this end is better, the world will never accept you, they will treat you like an animal, like the white devil, this is better. I can't protect you, what strength do i have, how long could you have lived, what would have the world turned you to? This is better my child, forgive me, no! Don't forgive me, thank me.