Zahra, Ilham, and Hanna

It was pride that turned angels into devils

(A dream that takes place during Not quite alone…)


There is no pain. Nor sadness. Or sickness. Tis forbidden.

Instead, there was the warmest waves of unconditional love that seemed never to have an end. Unexplainable release. Tis a drug this ethereal bath, the purest of light washes my former self in a continual tide -- it soaks away misery and all earth born strife. I feel nothing of hate, nor the sickening wench of terror. A soul is weightless, destined for rest and to be filled to the brim, overflowing with bliss.

Rising above my temporary home in these ever swirling heavens -- conscious, aware of the unexplainable peace and tranquility that settles upon me like the warmth of sunlight in summer or a soft blanket in winter.
I'm not alone. Nar, far from it. There are others (friends and family) who beckon me, higher -- deeper. Neve and Fina are also close. Yon icy spirit chortles joyfully; her musical melody takes on the impression of a bubbling brook as it travels across the smooth stones of a bedded shore -- those graceful notes bring another youthful smile from the warmest depths of my heart. She slides along beside me as a silver star; her transparent form takes hold ever so often. The other is like a baby sun, her orangish beam coasts in tight spirals, dancing, laughing. I drift quietly.

"Da!"

Below, far removed from our risen position is a battle for land -- born from the loins of misfortune. A child, bleed to soon. I turn to look, momentarily fixated. Ignoring the luring summon that gave a strong impression to rid my mind of useless concern. Yet. There was something that must be done -- something that needed to be done before my eternity could begin.

This babe was pure, untainted. More often than not they are still tethered to the unseen world beyond the veil. I slip lower, lingering among the shadows... not noticing, nor particularly caring that there is a cooling eve spread out above us -- those glittering stars had always seemed distant, cold. Now they drummed a soft melody, a folk song that made my pulse skip with unusual excitement.

It was in this field of memory that I found her. Alone and lying among the wilting reeds with an unusual creature close by. "Zahra," the words are soft, to the ears of an adult they might be mistaken as a trick upon the wind. But perhaps to a young and frightened girl, they would be of comfort. Slowly I drift to the ground, its solidness unfelt, but known. Gold no longer found its way behind me in the form of a trail, instead -- crowned with light and glory I walked to my daughter and gently draped a protective wing across her fragile form.

I wanted to hold her one last time....

The songs are calling. We had but a few moments before I'd be forced away.

~ ~ ~ ~

Not even an hour goes by, but from your young perspective a whole eternity has passed… and your mother has not yet come. Huddling against the puny pup’s meagre warmth (and she against yours), your awareness begins to drift restlessly, longingly and you find yourself bathed in fond memories of better times. A vague smile quickly finds your grim expression and the tears staining your cheeks slow a little.

Light spills through your mind (and inevitably into that of the creature now bound to you) – sunlight – and fine summer flowers grow quickly between lush grasses to the length of your knobbly knees. Insects have always intrigued you, and they gather now in dazzling swarms all around you; bees humming as they fill their furry trouser pockets, butterflies dancing through a blue, windless sky and tiny, black gnats fill much of the space between. Weightlessly you rise to meet them, to buck and cavort, spin and play. The warmth of the morning embraces you and fills you to the brim with vigour - you turn with heaving sides to find your mother’s gaze, but she is not there.

The eyes into which your innocent gaze spills are depthless and golden, wise and warm, and you step closer between spiked thistle plants to your small tapered nose lifted. “Da,” you tell him with a growing smile when he calls. It has been a week or more since the last time he was near – he will return soon, your mother had reassured countless times (never alluding to the ache in her heart, the true peril he faced). Your delight is boundless, your love unmasked, and the scent of his presence brings peace to your soul. There are things you do not notice about him – the curious aura of light about him, so subtle, the lack of gold beneath his stride, the otherworldly echo trailing his voice.

You are aware of naught but the vanishing emptiness inside, the rushing warmth of comfort through your veins and the flutter of feeble breath as wiry whiskers bury beneath his own. You slide along the stiff brawn and bone of his shoulder and about you falls the feathered cloak of his wing – it cradles you, and you surrender willingly… if only for a moment “Da, the butterflies!” you cry happily, leaping away as though freed springs were your legs. You rear, perfect, petite hooves striking air harmlessly, and reach ever upward for the delicate creatures fluttering, but gravity soon draws you home and you turn back with glittering, sunlit eyes.

They search for Fina then – her bright body, smouldering like the sun – and then quickly for Neve. “Play?” you ask your father optimistically, though neither zephyr seem to be near. The ice princess has become a fond play mate, and time spent without her had been lonesome and dull. In a tight circle you spin, fine ears pricked forward eagerly, but the spirited trill you anticipate does not answer. “Neve? Play?” you try again… So real does the moment feel, so alive does your father seem – you cannot know that he has returned now only as a ghost, and for the final time.

~ ~ ~ ~

Only in death does one truly see all the world for what tis worth. Each precious moment, beheld at a distance and often overlooked -- now, I'm granted wisdom to linger, observe with saddening eyes and acute awareness, every fragment of light and particle of dust. The magical way her slender, immature muscles ripple as they rise to give chase; she already moves with such grace and blooming pose. Though a filly would've seemed awkward, mayhap even comical to a mortal eye.

Had this mind fully understood -- saw or predicted during those living years I'd squandered and had I still been alive right now...the sight of this frolicking cherub would've broken my heart. Perhaps that's why we are restricted with our heart and mind, never fully aware. The large majority only able to focus on a handful of things at once and hardly ever giving the small miracles a second glance.

As it were, my soul could nothing but smile with all the adoration yon spirit world would offer. These airless lungs could only sip, pant the sweet bud of her fragrance; when all I wanted to do was drown myself in everything she was...take back those precious hours and freeze them. Hold this fragile babe, who was still so breakable. Breakable. "Zahra." I said softly, trying to rein her back. There was little time and unfortunately it couldn't be spent chasing butterflies. "Come child. Let me show ye something." The ground upon whence we stood was lifted away; yar, but not in an alarming manner -- tis as if a white cloak had suddenly been pulled free to reveal the work of a master.

We stood together, uptop a grand hill... the same mound I'd taken Cera and Hototo in their earliest years. A time that felt so long ago...

"Behold." Gems sweep the smoky countryside, "I leave this to ye." Before our forms lay the folding mountains and distant thunder, our home brought to its knees. Brought low. "Become it's guardian," gentle eyes fell to her, regretful of the weight my words would place upon her lean shoulders. "Stand as my prodigy." Tone had deepened, youthful ears wouldn't understand, but the soul would so it was to her spirit I spoke. Where others had failed, perhaps this small girl would persevere.

~ ~ ~ ~

There is a sombreness dressing his voice as he calls for you again, and it pulls you easily from play. The butterflies dance still higher, through dazzling shafts of sunlight and still further until the vast ocean of blue sky swallows them away. A fluttering sigh spills through your paper-thin nostrils, your eyes are wide and wondering, absorbing the marvels of the world constantly about you. You turn at last, heeding the wish of your father because you love him, and you follow his word devotedly - both he and your mother have taught a fine quality into your being through consistency and care. Fondly your dreamy golden eyes find him and your long, gangly legs spring forward beneath. “Da?” you ask thoughtfully, curious above all else. He answers softly and tenderly, and your monochrome coats melt quickly together once more; you press against his warmth - oblivious to the truth of his presence.


There have been many times prior to this, that he has sought your attention, undivided - native roses that whistled merrily in the summer breeze, the glistening scales of water-bound creatures, and perhaps the very favourite of all, tracing the borderline of your home beneath an air of woven story. Your father tells such wonderful stories; and your mind still reals beneath the thrill of the life he retells. Your tiny brow furrows on this occasion as you try earnestly to settle your heart enough to concentration, eager to please, your bright gaze rises to acknowledge him for a moment. It falls again, and before you lies not the grassy, thistle-strewn meadow of moments ago. You snort briskly, both excited and confused by this revealed wonderland - it is not like any part of this world you have seen.

Pearly, white milk teeth flash in the warm daylight and your blissful, innocent smile only broadens as your father continues to talk. You stand now atop a thickly grassed-knoll, wildflowers sway gently in the small wind - they seem to hold every colour of the rainbow! Briefly you scan the heavens for the butterflies, but they have left no trace in their wake. The hillock rolls away still further, and your delight fades suddenly - it is your home, you realise soon enough - but it looks entirely different. The web of green canopy holds true, and you know week the thick labyrinth hidden beneath; so too are you familiar with the jagged face of the stony grey mountain beyond. But there is a new shadow cloaking your home, and your heart skips as it sinks still further into the pits of unsettling despair.

Quietly, unhappily you glance by your father. Why was he showing you this?

You bleat softly, wistfully, desperate to shed the fear unravelling through your stomach, and smile again to distract yourself; to lessen the grim air about your father dearest. This was not a lesson you liked at all. “Go back?” you press cheerfully. Thunder rumbles though in the distance and a thick, black cloud grows fierce - he speaks of guardians and prodigy, neither of which your wavering ears understand. Your soul though, the burning conviction within you is tickled; and the burden of his instruction rings still louder clarion bells in a steeple. You are frightened by this side of him - though you do not turn and run. Feather soft lips bury into the warm padding of his breast, and you linger there a moment longer.

When finally your pale eyes drift yonder once again, to drink the sullied land once lush and pure, there is a stiffness about you. A child startled from the frivolous eternity of her youth. Your mother held onto that naivety well into her adulthood, but the graveness of the future ahead of you will surely set you upon a far steeper path. You grow weary, you are still an infant and in truth this vision holds no relevance in your perfect world. Your downy tail begins to flick as your attention starts to wander; your pale, young eyes gravitate to the unrivalled brightness of the sky behind you - a small lifetime that you will no doubt mourn for every day.

~ ~ ~ ~

My expression eases into one of gentleness, overflowing with compassion. Undiluted love. It fills in those gloomy shadows as I extend my wing to Zahra, drawing her gangly frame against mine. This crown drifts low into the bend of her spine, inhaling that warm, milky smell of youth. Africa's fragrance lingers like a blanket, momentarily steering my mind toward memory and unearthy concern. "Ok," agreement to her pressing; the babe rightly wanted to escape this sight of the soiled ruin. Return to butterflies and bath in the glory of sunlight.

A tiny seed had been sowed; only time would tell if a plant would rise.

There is aim to instill a sense of purpose, a shred of hope and courage. The idea of it might be all that kept this child warm in the long night to come. Yar, and it would be a long night. That said, it wasn't my expectation she'd strive to reign over the Fall's or its people; nay, but in the months to come and from here on out my beautiful, unfortunate daughter would be tested. Pushed and pulled to one breaking point after another, chipped on bit by tiny bit and without a purpose this precious soul had a higher chance of withering away.

Such a pure spirit. It was cruel. Babes shouldn't be forced to crawl in this twisted plane of existence; I'd have her seated in power and love. She was a princess to this land and one day maybe, a queen. But Zahra would be tempted to grow bitter, like Cera. Angry at the world and its stone heart. Or complacent, like Ranjiri. My old self would've wished for more hours, more time to spend with this daughter of earth and gold. Nar, it was foolish to pry for such things...

That distant battle bled virgin melts away, sand replaces the soft turf beneath us. A diamond shoreline, sparkling with unnatural beauty, a flawless gem unlike any a mortal could stand to behold without weeping. A crystal blue surf crashes upon the surface and tiny seashells of various color litter the edge. Marine life in abundance flit across the ocean, a pod of dolphins and a whale can be see in the distance.

One final gift, I personally could grant her.

This day.

Time was funny that way; though the world beyond passed at a snail pace -- this place was enchanted, a single hour would feel like a day. Minutes became hours. But I would think nothing of that... for now. Instead, a brilliant smile creases my face, light breasting each corner with familiar tenderness and unrestrained delight. I bound forward, the tips of gilden feathers slide free. "Come on!" There was still today. We had until the sun fell. Feet slash into the surf, I swing my crown round. Plunging into the water to send a poorly aimed splash in her direction.

~ ~ ~ ~

Your father hears your plea, of course, and he tucks your tiny painted frame securely beneath the closing fold of his white, golden tipped wing. It is easily one of your most favourite hideouts in the world - save for the flames cascading constantly down the length of your mother’s thick tail - underneath it and against him you are brave, invincible. His deep voice murmurs again and familiar tenderness and warmth blankets your lifting ears, ok. White lashes flutter apart as your face slips from his beating breast (the steadiness of a heart so unwavering), and your eyes are peeled once more, fast scouring the land as it begins transform around you.

The unfortunate truth of his visit draws ever nearer, but still you remain oblivious. Tales of young souls touched by the dearly departed have been woven through this world - it is a gift perhaps not shared by the mature and guarded mind, a sixth sense that has brought upon you one last moment with your father. You smile broadly, innocence spilling from your wide, adoring gaze as it diverts momentarily by him. A world of pain and confusion awaits you, a lifetime of questions - choices.

As a thick carpet of green vanishes astonishingly from beneath your hooves, a lightness returns to your mind and the tension wrought through your puny frame melts away into nothing. The glimmering salty shoreline of a strange, beautiful coast spreads out beneath you and your twitching lips swing lower to ghost above the softest powdery sand; breath after breath draws in the brackish hue of this breathtaking, untouched place. You turn quickly towards your father and joy explodes through your core, love unmarred radiates through your mind. “Da!” you hum enthusiastically, because you know nothing of watery wonderlands so entrancing as this. You are nervous as you watch the crashing surf, white froth vanishing into the earth - leaving no trace behind. You hesitate longer beside him and the distant shimmer of furless skin breaching the waterline captures your interest.

You wait in breathless anticipation. This is all such a contrast to the ruins of before.

You are so desperate to explore, to turn smooth white shells and dabble though the tiny still pools in the rocks just nearby. Raucous birds chant brightly as they fly overhead, grey, white and orange and they eye you fearlessly - this is their domain. Your pale wings spread apart just as theirs do and the soft breeze ruffles the growing feathers thatched across them; many are painful, still concealed in their stiff, itchy sheaths, but here you feel nothing of discomfort. A crab ventures up the beach, a slim furrow in his wake and you gasp at the creature, so peculiar. But there is no time to dally. Your father swings from your side and your legs ramble forward into the smooth gait you find so comfortable - another gift from him to you.

Sand sprays like glitter about your petite hooves as they chop along behind him, and you stumble as your eyes stray to each side. He calls for you and your childish trill answers - you can beat him, you just know it. You press your shoulders forward, your neck drifts low between your knees, and you buck and gambol along beside the water. Your father is far braver, and you watch with untrained amazement as the liquid spews around his churning legs - so too does it fling from him, right in your direction. Mouth agape, cool water spraying from your nostrils, you grin and shift direction towards him. Just like the streams once played in at home, the chill envelopes you and you gasp heavily. You aim to collide with him, though instead the quicksand beneath snares your tread. You trip, shriek and giggle - drag your bedraggled self from the ocean, and stumble from its grip back to safety.

Little do you know it, these are moments you will savour for eternity. When the sun dips low and shade spills across your wonderland, the sound of another’s voice will pull you from sleep. You will find your father gone, and the puppy nestled still against your skin. The reality of your loneliness will tumble down upon you like the weight of a thousand stones - but you will remember your fathers worlds. They now sit like a tattoo upon your conscience, an echo through your mind.