Beta-read by written-tragedies.
When I wake up again, it's already past 1 in the afternoon and the heat had only escalated. In the meantime, I have regained control of my limbs and the pain had greatly subsided to an ache. Jumping out of bed, I fix my red satchel on my right shoulder and bolt out of Raja's cot. I don't waste any time and hurry down the muddy and narrow roads of Kabila. The sun burns in my back and I groan. If I spend any longer under this heat, I might melt or ignite in flames.
Thankfully, the hilltop isn't that far away, and I breathe out in relief. Just a bit more and I'll be home. There it is: The Ksar, a fortified granary, stands on top of the hill, looking like a fortress. I take in the remaining of my strength and walk up to it. Finally, I can spot the tell-tale barrel roofs of the houses which help keep them cool in such heat. Inside the Ksar, there are stone banks built to hold in water and thanks to it a few palm and olive trees, as well as wheat, can be grown in Kabila.
I finally reach my home, and I eagerly unlock the old creaky wooden door to step inside. The house is dark and silent. There's a short hallway cabinet on my left, two feet from the entrance and just beside the door to the kitchen. I set my house key on it and spot a small plate on the cabinet's edge. It's filled with my mother's favourite Jasmine flowers, but the fragile white petals already decayed into a sickly yellow.
I take a step to peer carefully inside the kitchen. Dirty plates are left unattended in the sink. The backdoor at the other end of the small kitchen and the window are tightly shut. I spot an uncovered half eaten pot of oats stew on the sturdy table positioned in the centre of the kitchen. My stomach growls and I reach to inspect the stew hungrily. But a foul smell greets me, and I recoil.
I frown. In such heat, just one night is enough for most food to go bad. Still, this is strange. Ever since I was small, my mother has been very strict on preserving order in the kitchen and keeping it clean.
Did something happen?
I snap around and take four steps to my left. I hurry past the bathroom and pause. There, up the stone stairs leading to the bedrooms, on one of the steps, crouches a curly haired brunette woman in her late forties.
"Mom?" I start worried, my voice barely a whisper.
Immediately my mother snaps up to look at me. She bolts up and stumbles down the stairs towards me. Trembling, labour-hardened hands close around my shoulders. Her face is pale, and dark bags are under her eyes. Wet streaks of dried tears cover her cheeks.
"You're alive," she hiccups.
My throat tightens, and I'm suddenly hit with a wave of suffocating guilt.
My family thought I was dead. How could I forget about that?
Slowly, she inspects my face and chest with a mix of anger and heart-wrenching relief. I part my lips to say something, anything, but I don't know what I should say. This is my entire fault.
I pull her into a tight embrace instead and feel her trembling hands hold onto my shoulders.
"Your friends told us you died." she mutters and her fingers crisp. "They said that a beast…" the brunette pauses and shakes her head violently to dispel the memory. Her voice breaks as she adds, "I didn't know what to do."
"I'm sorry," I whisper.
The trembling in my mother's hand subsides and suddenly, she snaps her head up to look at me with determined brown eyes. I feel her fingers dig into my shoulders, and I wince.
"Never do that to me again!" She yells, "You hear me? Or I swear… I swear…"
Her shoulders tremble as she heaves in anger, and I clamp my eyes shut and hug her even tighter.
I hear the sound of footsteps rush down the stone stairs. Small arms close around my waist without warning, and I look down in surprise. Youssef, my little brother, smiles up at me. At the edge of the stairs, is also my cousin, Fedi. The 21-year-old knight-in-training watches us with a soft, tired smile and runs a hand through his buzz cut head. He seems to hesitate for a moment, but in the end, he throws up his arms in resignation and soon joins the group hug.
We hold each other tightly, and I don't know how long we stay that way, all four clinging into each other in a comfortable silence. I can't even remember the last time I felt so calm and content.
To think, that I could've lost this. That something could've happened to my family because of me. Because of the monstrous creature I summoned.
"I knew you'd be fine." Youssef mutters as we eventually part, his hands still clenching around my clothes. "You promised to take me to the Riaf tournament." He stares down at the ground, and his mop of wild curly hair covers his face. "You always keep your promises so I knew you'd be fine."
"He might say that now. Yesterday, I had to drag him away from the Bab* and force him to stay home. He wouldn't sleep until he knew for sure you were alright." Fedi chuckles good naturally, " The little bugger was adamant on waiting all night for you to come home."
"I'm sorry." I immediately apologize, and Fedi swats me on the head.
"The hell are you apologizing for." he mutters, "You're the only and first Hami in our family, stop being so nice and start acting like the egoistical jerk you're supposed to be."
My mother smiles softly and Youssef chuckles. She fluffs my short hair and starts, "We're all very proud of you. Never forget that. No matter what happens, even if you weren't a Hami, you're my son. I will always be proud of you."
I smile back at her widely and peck her cheek. "Thank you."
To be showered with such unconditional love and to be blessed with such a supportive family, I know that I'm incredibly lucky. And I know that I shouldn't take any of this for granted. For my family, I would do anything. I long since decided to work harder than anyone else to surmount my restricted Riaf and become an exceptional Hami. I want to make my mother proud. Yet, I can't succeed in something so elemental as a Rafik summoning ritual.
Still, I'm sure there has to be another way that could work even for me. I just need to figure out how.
The thought settles in my mind, and I resolve to find a solution in the next week, in time for the yearly Riaf Tournament. Too preoccupied with my thoughts, I jump when Fedi whacks me on my back, a torrent of pain vibrating through my body. I grind my teeth and hold a sharp cry in, so as to not worry my mother and Youssef any further.
"What?" I whisper harshly to my cousin.
Fedi stares at me confused for a moment and quirks an eyebrow at me. "What's wrong? Are you hurt? Did you see Tabib Raja?" He blurts, worried.
Instead of answering, I shrug. My cousin frowns, his eyebrows knit together and the exhaustion apparent on his face twists into concern.
"I'm fine." I assure him, "Raja already gave me a thorough check up."
At that Fedi brightens up and nods. "Great." he then smirks and pulls me up the stairs with him. "Help me pack up."
"Pack up?" I ask, pushing my aching legs up the stairs.
"Yes, I need to attend the Knighting ceremony in Kassir, the political capital of the kingdom of Mamlaka and where the king's palace stands. The security procedures are insane there."
I stop at the end of the stairs and three feet away from me and Youssef's bedrooms. "Does that mean?"
"That from tomorrow on I will be officially a knight of Mamlaka? That I'll get a cool tailor-made armor? That I'll also take part in dangerous secret missions? You bet." Fedi grins and I smile back at him.
"That's great!" I cry out and hurry behind my cousin into the bedroom.
The room is small and clean: On the right, there are two beds, mine and Youssef, perpendicular to the wall with a small window in between them. On the left, a sturdy wooden table stacked with my notes and study books is situated, a small clock hanging over it. And on the wall facing the entrance, a short wooden closet stands.
I crouch down at a big brown plain leather bag lying beside the entrance, and Fedi strides towards the closet to pull out a change of clothes and a few charms he brought with him last time.
I grin at him and reach to help him pack them up, but my cousin suddenly fixes me with a hard look. He seems uncharacteristically serious.
"I'm happy you're alright." he starts and I can feel the relief in his voice. "We were all worried. I wasn't sure what to do if Jahith's words were true."
I smile softly at him, "But everything's alright now."
Fedi shakes his head. "That's not it." he says, "You weren't there. You can't imagine the grief and horror that struck us. Youssef was one step away from teleporting to the forest himself to look for you. Aunty was… After hearing what that Samad fellow said..." Fedi grinds his teeth and shakes his head furiously as if to shake away a terrible memory.
I watch guilty as he opens his eyes again, and turns to fix me with sharp eyes, "This might sound harsh." he continues, "But, you weren't born to be a Hami, so for god's sake don't die for it. If it's too hard, it's alright to give up. No one will fault you for it. You know that." he finishes, his voice breaking at the end.
I glance down at my hands silently. There's a lump in my throat and I feel something twist in my chest. Giving up becoming a Hami never crossed my mind. Ever since I was Youssef's age, I was never shy about announcing my dream to become a Hami. I was ridiculed for it. I was told that I could never be a Hami because of my restricted Riaf. But that was alright. Instead of dampening my will to realize my dream, the mocking only fuelled my desire to prove them wrong.
I worked harder than anyone else, sacrificed more hours of sleep than Tabib* Raja would've approved of to make up my bad practical grades with the theory tests. With my restricted Riaf, I'm at a great disadvantage compared to my comrades in the Academy. My chances of reaching sixth year were pretty dim.
I'm not smart, but I do whatever it takes to succeed. Graduation is only three months away. I can't give up on my dream now, just because I'm tired. That would be absurd. It would mean, everything I've had to go through, all my work was nothing but a waste of time.
'You weren't born to be a Hami'.
I already fucking know that. But at this point I can't give up.
"I'll be careful." I tell Fedi.
It's not a lie. It's not. I try to convince myself as I watch my cousin's shoulders slump down in relief.
*Bab: Teleportation portal
*Rafik: familiar
*Tabib: healer