Chapter 1: Elondra

Aiming to introduce some members of the royal family, Tiba, and the Washm.

            Elondra strode into the magic lab to work on some of her lessons - her red dress and long black hair billowing behind her. She pulled out a wooden U-shaped table, and placed seven candle holders on it,  spacing them out evenly. Some blessed soul had left little markings on the table showing where to put them. She wouldn’t want to burn the lab down by getting the distances wrong!

She opened up a jar of candle adhesive and placed a little of it on each candle holder, while chanting in a low voice “wel’a.. wel’a”.  She brought out the black candles from the old dusty cupboard in the corner, and lit one of them up and put it in the center candle holder, and then alternated lighting and placing the other candles on each side of the center candle. With the placement of the last candle, she finished her chant with a loud “Wel’a Kollo” and all the candles grew brighter in unison. 

She stood in the middle of the U shaped table, closed her cat-green eyes, and calmed her thoughts as she had been taught. She hummed to herself to empty her head, and focus entirely on the task at hand. Magic was a difficult subject to study, let alone perfect.. But as part of the ruling family, she had to be the very best at it.

She started moving her hands in an intricate web, as if she were weaving a complex braid of hair, or untangling a long rope, and singing in a low voice the chant that would do her bidding.  The light streamed from the candles and through her fingers like fine strings, then with her final words of the chant, spewed out of her hands as she pushed her palms out, and onto the walls, lighting the whole room with a million tiny specks of light, and blowing out the candles.

This was just the first part of the lesson she was working on learning, and this was the part she had already perfected.  The second part was much more complex: pulling back all that light and using it to power her manipulation of the space around her. Half-smiling to herself, Elondra thought ‘now if only it were this easy to move the world!’

Elondra looked at the previously dull grey walls, now beautiful with the light of seven candles, and focused on seeing each tiny little speck for what it was: a speck of energy. Energy that could be transformed time and again - ever-changing like the world in which it existed.

Magic required a healthy imagination, as well as a lot of concentration. She had to clear her mind of everything but the image of what she wanted to do, then pour her heart into making that image come to life, commanding the world around her to move to fit her imagination. 

She envisioned what she wanted to do in her mind’s eye: turn the U shaped table upside down, fold it in on itself, and move it neatly to the top of the pile of tables in the corner of the lab. As she envisioned this, she started humming, and moving her fingers as if they were representing the table.

Elondra folded her slender fingers into her hand one by one, and as she did, the table obeyed, leaving the blown-out candles suspended in the air.  The light seeped from the walls, and some strands of it found their way back into her hands, leaving the room eerily dark. It wrapped itself around her fingers and with each motion, a small portion of the light would flee from her hand, and head to the table to mirror her motions. 

This was, what - her hundredth attempt? She was so close to getting it right this time, and was halfway through moving the table through the air to the stack, when something moved in the corner of her eye, surprising her. The table came crashing down on the floor as Elondra lost her concentration. 

“Damn it, Kariba! How many times do I have to tell you not to sneak up on me like that?” Elondra exclaimed. Kariba looked sheepishly back at her and murmured “Sorry… it’s just that… well.. I just wanted to watch you practice. I love it when you make the walls shine!”.

Elondra sighed.. “I know, Kaykay, it’s just that I need to know that you’re coming so that I’m not taken by surprise. I’m not very good at this spell yet so I can’t just wing it like I do with other spells when you interrupt me!”. Kariba looked embarassed, so Elondra toned down the sharpness in her voice and said “But it’s alright, I’ll just finish this up tomorrow. It’s almost dinner time anyway”. 

Elondra walked to Kariba and put a hand on her shoulder, brushing aside her unruly brown hair, then escorted her out of the lab, leaving behind the shattered pieces of the table that she would have to put together the next day.

On their way to the famous Tulip gardens, a messenger found them, and informed them that their presence was requested by Benaar tonight for dinner. “That’s odd” Elondra said, scowling, but Kariba looked very excited. Dinner with father usually meant delicious deserts for the 9 year old. 

At the great dining hall, they found that Benaar had summoned all 14 of his living children - ranging from nine to sixty seven years of age, which only elevated Elondra’s concerns. She looked at her gathered siblings in dismay and murmured quietly to Kariba “This can’t be good”.

Kariba had never been to one of these summonings before so she was puzzled at her sister’s reaction, “Why, what’s wrong?” she asked.

Elondra responded “Father almost never invites all of us to dinner at once. He only does it when he has an important announcement to make, and it’s almost never good news. I wonder what it is this time”.  As they approached their siblings, Elondra replaced her worried look with a polite smile, and sat down. 

The hall was invitingly bright with ambient light. The large 20-person table in the middle was put in the palace thousands of years ago, and was said to be made entirely from one branch of a 23,000 year old Redwood tree, the likes of which no longer existed. 

After food and merriment - catching up with one another, Benaar raised a hand to silence everyone. “My day is nearing. It is time for all of you to be groomed for rulership” he said.  “Even Kariba.  Our responsibility as the royal family is to provide trustworthy and wise options for the Washm to choose a new ruler” he continued. 

Kariba looked confused, not really sure what this all this meant.  Elondra gave her a small comforting smile and nodded that she would explain later. Benaar noticed this subtle exchange and decided to tell the story of the Washm to all his children, one more time.

“Kariba, pull your chair up and come sit next to your father. I promise this will all make more sense to you once I tell you a very important story. Just don’t fall asleep, okay?” he smiled while saying the last part and it seemed like Kariba finally took a breath as he lightened the mood. She got up and dragged the heavy chair slowly and noisily until she was right next to her father at the head of the table, and then climbed up on to the abnormally large chair.  

Roc asked his father with a bored smirk “May I be excused? I’ve heard this story ten times already, I really don’t need to hear it again.”  Benaar glared at him and said “No. This time is more important than any other. Stop being so insolent”. Roc shut up, then rolled his eyes when Benaar wasn’t looking. He had always been an impatient child.

Benaar said “the word Washm is originally an ancient Arabic word meaning tattoo”, as he lifted his sleeve to show them the Washm on the inside of his left wrist. It looked like a skin-colored tattoo engraved into his skin, with a silver outline that was ever-moving, like a snake slithering around its prey.

“This pattern you see inside is an old language that can now only be read by the Washm-bearer and an ancient order of monks called The Nomads” he said.

“The Washm is a sacred part of ruling Tiba, and when I am gone the Washm will choose another to rule our proud nation, and will appear on their wrist. I don’t know who it will choose, but I know that the Washm does not judge a person lightly, but by their deepest, darkest secrets. It doesn’t care who is the oldest, nor does it care for the purest of bloodlines like some other nations do. It cares only about who would be the fairest and wisest ruler. There is no hiding from the Washm” Benaar said.  

He spoke of the Washm as if it were a sentient being that could make choices, though to everyone else, it just looked like a magical tattoo with gibberish text in the middle.

“Most of the time the Washm picks someone from the in-power ruling family, because the Nomads train us thoroughly. So unless I’ve done a horrible job raising you all, it should be one of you” he said with a smile at the last part. “But that is no guarantee” he said with a serious face, then paused for effect. 

Benaar’s tone turned somber:  “I’m nearing my end of life as I approach five centuries of age, which means that you all must be ready to bear the responsibility of ruling Tiba after I’m gone. After I die, the Washm will choose a new Ruler. Whomever the Washm chooses must have your unequivocal support, be it one of your own or not. That is a blood oath you must make before I pass. The ceremony will be tomorrow at high noon. Be there. Understood?”

Benaar looked from each child to the next and waited till they nodded their heads in acknowledgment. “Your training starts tomorrow after the ceremony and will take 10 years to complete. All of you.” He said, then he unceremoniously got up and left the room, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on his kids. 

His sons and daughters sat silently staring down at the table.  Kariba was the first to move as she had been eying the chocolate cake in front of her during the entire speech, but she dared not eat while Benaar spoke. She descended on it like a hawk, and everyone giggled at her giant chocolate-smothered grin as she realized everyone was staring at her.  “Oh to be young and oblivious”, Elondra thought.

The group dispersed and Elondra walked alone to her room. She thought about how amazing it was that the Washm had this innate knowledge of a person’s soul, no matter how hard the person tried to mask their flaws from others.  What sort of magic could give anything that much power, she wondered.  How can a tattoo be sentient and make such life-altering decisions? Though the news was grave, she consoled herself that at least she would finally meet one of the elusive monks of The Nomads tomorrow.

She had only heard of The Nomads in whispers from her caretakers when she was young.  She’d heard that in addition to training the Ruling family, The Nomads had a way of finding exceptional individuals that they would seek out from the public to groom for leadership. If there was no need for a new ruler when their education was complete, these chosen individuals would become part of the governing party chosen by the Ruler, usually in a highly esteemed position. 

Katha, one of her caretakers had a daughter who made it to Master Swordswoman after being trained by the monks. Katha was really proud of this fact and mentioned it to everybody she met.

Nobody knew exactly how the monks found people to train, but it was rumored that the monks were called “The Nomads” because they could separate their body and spirit, and let their unseen spirit wander the land far and wide to find worthy individuals.  “How silly”, Elondra thought. “That can’t possibly be true… Can it?”

Author's Note

Draft. All constructive feedback welcome :) Thank you!