Ayira The Princess
I peeked around the corner, seeing the long hallways with the arched ceilings and the dim lights lining the walls.
“Princess!” Minka hissed as I looked down at the long white feline by my feet. She glared at me with her blue eyes when her whiskers twitched. “This is not safe! I hate when you do this!”
“I’ll be back before they check.” I said as I waved her off.
Peeking around the corner again, I straightened up and began to walk with my chin raised and face exposed for the first time.
Nobody truly knows what the princess of Khamar looks like and as I pushed my braids back with the thick jumbo wooden beads knocking around against my backside, I made sure to keep the jewelry to a minimum, and basic clothes of a white cotton t-shirt and a long white matching skirt that hovered over my ankles.
I told Minka to keep her distance so no one would suspect anything as I walked down the public corridors of the palace.
Everyone was preparing for visitors to arrive from the other territories. Rooms were being cleaned; sheets were washed, and walls were wiped down. Everything had to be spotless, and I could hear my mother giving out orders just around the corner.
“There will be six men staying here in the palace, and trying for your hand, Ayira. It’s time you learn your true purpose of being a woman in this world.”
The Ashari was dressed in identical traditional black linen with handstitched embroidered designs of serpents and flowers.
Skin tones in deep shades of clay to black, hooded eyes, and markings on their face to show their rank and birthright to this place which meant they were born here and will most likely die here as servants.
Their long-straightened hair was braided down past their hips as they moved in clusters, holding towels, and sheets.
They were silent but synchronized in their leather sandals, and would only bow to royalty, which as of now, I am not.
My father would jokingly say they were like birds flocking and migrating from one hall to another.
Now that I am older, they are nothing but caged birds with wings clipped at birth, the same as me.
I could hear laughter, and music from each corner and turn and smell food being cooked in the kitchen halls as they prepared the meals.
The arched doorways showed the multiple gas stoves, the thick granite counters in the center where they skinned an animal for its meat while the radio played local music.
I found an opening where I could see the palace steps that led out to the villages and city below that was lit up for the night.
“Minka, hurry!” I laughed. I quickly tapped down each step with my feet, ignoring the gawking stares of the women and men that lingered around the palace, hoping to be seen.
Yet, as soon as I stepped off the palace where the steps end and the city begin, I dramatically inhaled the fresh scent of freedom.
“Ahhhhhh!” I exhaled as Minka plopped down by my feet, agitated.
“This is dangerous, princess,” she grumbled.
“I have never been caught before,” I told her before taking off running.
“PRINCESS!?”
The thick wooden beads bounced against my back as I looked up at the violet desert sky that looked like it burned blue and purple flames in the distance.
The heat was unbearable if you weren’t used to it.
Most of the locals here had skin as dark as mine or as dark as the red clay that made most of the buildings and homes.
You could smell spices drifting in the air and see lanterns hovering over doorways and alleyways.
The maze of buildings, homes, stores and shops that spilt into courtyards, a local school and local kitchens where the men would sit out in the open with their drinks.
This has always been my home and the women here all looked like me with thick strands of hair braided down into beads or straightened from the natural heat.
There were no afros or weaves here as it was not seen as proper maintenance of our hair and a sign of the unlucky and less fortunate.
Our hair was straightened the moment it began to show its length.
I ducked underneath hanging rugs woven by hand as a woman sat outside her door yelling in Sutari at her husband who had his eyes glued to the TV.
There was so much new world influence yet, nobody seemed to be curious enough to want to leave…
or escape. My father allowed very few imports as a part of trade agreements with outside influences, but he refused to let anyone in or out.
“Princess!”
“Yes Minka?” I called out in a soft tone as I stared at the drapes of colorful stoned beads.
“When you get married, I’m sure your new husband will allow you to walk freely like this,” she stressed. “Please can we go back? It is not safe.”
I looked down at the white feline before rolling my eyes as I continued to walk further into the narrow alleyways.
There were murals of serpents with wings stretching to the top of the building to the Solhari warriors that were born to protect and fly them.
I bent down to look at the scripture written with black oily paint that never seemed to dry.
“To forget the past is to wander blind. To see the present is to begin the journey. To claim the future, you must remember…who was left behind…”
“What do you think that means, Minka?” I asked with my hand playfully on my chin. She, of course, hissed instead.
“It means we need to go back home.”.
I stopped when little boys with a red ball crossed in front of me as they chased after it with their feet. They kicked up the red clay into a dust cloud while a mother chastised them, yelling out in Sutari.
“Aya! Aya!” The mother shouted as she rushed out waving a rag in the air.
She had jet black hair that fell against her shoulders and clay colored complexion.
Just from her color alone, she was born of ember…
The red tribal tattoos that lined her arms like rings showed her faith as she stomped her foot.
The thick sand suddenly kicked up around her before slamming back down at the same time as her foot.
She had the ability to manipulate the earth around her, but her frustration with the children was making her weary as she placed her hand on her hips, annoyed.
This was a typical night in Khamar. Minka and I kept walking deep into the city as the buildings began to grow a little taller and the noise a little louder.
Rap music was being played while women dressed a little more…
new world. The jeans and t-shirts that showed their stomachs to the motor bikes with the thick tires made for the sand dunes parked outside of homes.
To old cars that were picked apart for parts, this is where you would see women of the night, the yareens.
They linger around open doorways of the alley, luring unsuspecting men.
One woman wore a beaded skirt made of colorful glass and beads that parted with each sway of her hips, showing she wore nothing underneath and a simple wrap around her breasts.
Her wavy hair hung low as she stretched her hands high in the air with a laugh.
I could see the palace men step into the alleyway made of clay walls and brick stoned barriers with drapes of sheets dangling from one door to another.
During the day it provided shade for the women that sat in the heat but at night, it lit up with string lights made of tiny orange flames created by the hands of a sun born.
The woman who stood at the entrance of this corner stretched her arm out against the wall and gently shook her breasts in front of me for a tease.
Her long wavy hair didn’t look so unusual here in this setting and her darkened skin and coal for eyes were beyond soulless… beyond repair or hope.
“Princess, are you not lost?” She asked as my eyes widened. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes, let one white stick slip from the box, and had a silver lighter in the other hand that she flicked one time with a switch of her fingers.
“We need to leaveeee,” Minka hissed under her breath.
“You must be mistaken,” I said as I relaxed my body. The yareen, who looked to be my age, maybe even older, grinned before blowing out the smoke between her teeth and lips.
“Only the daughter of the sun has a face like that,” she pointed before a drunken man was thrown out of a room and into the alley.
She immediately turned around with her arms raised as her hips rolled, showing off the gold beads that bounced and glittered in the light, attracting the easiest of men who liked shiny material.