"Fish!! Fresh fish - we have small fish, big fish, salted fish, blackfish, red fish, purple fish… You name the color, you name the size, you name the breed. We have them all! Fish!! Fresh Fish!!"
Simultaneously at another corner, another merchant shouted, "Old lamps for new! Old newspapers for new parchments!"
"Cows for sale! 2 gold coins for a cow!!" Yelled a young farmer.
"A gold coin for a cow and 10 silver for a goat" Another farmer challenged his bargain. Yes, it was the marketplace in the platoon - an hour's walk from the palace. Such chaotic commotions should have driven everyone mad! The noise was deafening and confusing, with so many people shouting at the top of their voices, vying to be the loudest. The crowd and the stench of sweat and animal dung were also rising to an unbearable degree. The lively hustle and bustle of the market ran right through the entire day from dawn to dusk. Only the night's cool breeze made circumstances more bearable for shoppers and ware sellers alike. However, not all of the market was noisy and loud… for where the old walls and fallen buildings still stood, some apothecaries sold quaint little bottles filled with potions rumored to contain powerful magic.
"Go on now.. don't be such a chicken." Jebat gave his brother a shove into the gloomy, dusty place. Pahir had not known this place existed, much less that it was a thriving business.
"Well, well… to what honor do I owe a handsome young man like you to come to my store?" croaked a voice laced with sinister humor. Pahir jumped as his feet made the old rotting wooden panels under him creak, and cockroaches of all sizes rushed out from under them, making him cringe even more. He hated cockroaches, pests, and rodents. They frightened him somehow. Dirty and filthy, they always appeared, making him jump out of his skin with disgust.
"I..I… I.." before another word could be uttered, Pahir's voice failed him, and his eyes widened at sight before him - the most beautiful woman he had ever seen with long, brown hair of different hues that reached until her ankles, ending in loose curls. It framed her heart-shaped face perfectly, and her dress clung to her figure delicately, tracing out every outline. It was evident that she wore nothing beneath the thin silk. The usual breeches that decent women wore beneath their dresses were nowhere to be seen. The revealing dress did nothing to cover the protruding curves of her breasts. Her eyes were a deep, black wonder that seemed to hold the history of an entire universe within them. How such beauty had such a horrible, croaking voice astonished him.
"Ahh! I see you are to be married! My heartiest congratulations to you, young sire." The woman stood tall and proud.
Gathering his wits about him, Pahir felt his courage returning to him. "And how would you know that?"
"Your fingers are dipped in Sinai, and so are the ends of your hair" She smiled a knowing smile as she cocked her head to the side.
"You're simply guessing, trying to frighten me. I'm wearing gloves, and my hair is hidden in my turban. You cannot see anything. Even if it were not so, it is too dark here to see anything but slightly more than a silhouette." Pahir retorted.
The woman laughed at this and said, "No one fools a bomoh!" Pahir cringed. He was told from a young that all the bomohs had been banished from the land over 200 years ago. Witchcraft, all sorts of black magic, and their vile potions were banned from all corners of the civilized world - from the isles of Marat in the East, where their skin color was not unlike the commoners of Kzahmut, to the Mountains of Barat in the West. All knew that there were only two places where witchcraft still thrived. The first was in the isles of the yellow-skinned slit-eyed demons in the Far East, where they had two pairs of eyes - the extra pair were on their heads while their mouths stretched from one side of their faces to the next like a perpetual sinister grin with teeth of iron. The other was in the far West beyond the great sea of oblivion, where the inhabitants were double the height of an average man- making them 4 times taller than the yellow-skinned slit-eyed demons. Their skin was said to be as red as blood, and their faces were skulls with no flesh on them.
"This is what you have come for." The bomoh placed a small bottle that looked like water in Pahir's shivering hands. "Drink this now; it will work wonders when you are on the marriage bed with your new bride tonight." She winked.
"How will I know it would work, ma…. am?"
Suddenly a head popped in cautiously. "Did you get it? Did she sell it to you?"
The witch smiled surreptitiously at Jebat and returned her attention to Pahir. "It contains a drop of Princess Mirah's blood. Rare enough. The price is high!"
"The General Princess' blood? Why would that work?" Both brothers asked
"My poor, poor lads… You must have been so unlucky not to have caught her gaze when she roams the land as not to know." The witch's eyes flashed as she gazed upon the brothers. In their terror, they had thought she was angry with them and had wanted to bolt out of place, never to return. But their legs betrayed them.
"Princess Mirah's sexual appetite is legendary and far from coy. Any warrior, general, or commoner who took her fancy would be summoned to her chamber. One look at her chiseled commanding face and imposing bearing and their feet are fascinated. None can resist her charms…." She smirked at them. "So anyone who drinks a single drop of her blood with the added magical charm would have an increased sexual appetite that would make them perform continuously for several hours despite having multiple releases. Still interested, boys?"
Pahir gasped at that and hung his head in shame and fear. "I… forgive me, bomoh Yang Maha Berkuasa, that was not my intention. You see… I.. em. I.. have never had a woman before, and Jebat advised me that taking this potion would help me have the courage." As he nervously handed it back to the witch, Jebat quickly snatched the tiny bottle from Pahir's slender hands and said lustfully, "I have three wives! This is what I need!" He turned to leave the miserable store, but the door slammed shut, and the entire place lit up, although neither Jebat nor Pahir could find the source of the light. Or perhaps it had been their fear that had prevented them from really seeing what was before them.
"There is a price for all the wares I sell" The witch's dress dropped away quickly as if it was just a piece of silk. While both the brothers were terrified out of their wits, neither could deny the rising desire that she stirred. She was the vision of great beauty - flawless, voluptuous, and seductive. "The one who purchases the potion must spend an hour in my bed," she announced. Jebat, who never had been very much of a gentleman, was all too eager. He was a coarse man who thought little more of women than objects to fulfill his sexual needs - playthings that could be used at his whim if they were not heavily guarded by soldiers, chaperons, immense wealth, or… magic.
"Jebat, let's forget this….an… an.. and get back to the preparations. The…There is still a lot to do. We sho…should be helping mo..mother." Pahir suggested hoping his brother would oblige him for once to prepare for his big day.
""I don't really care about all that. That's a woman's job. After all, it's your wedding. Why should it be my problem?" the elder snapped at the younger.
"But.. please.. oblige me this once," Pahir begged, trying to talk his brother out of making deals with a witch.
"I have neither the experience nor commitment. My top priority? Me!! My friends and my personal plans. Just move away and stop being mother's parrot when I need to have a good time." Irritated, Jebat returned to the witch and said, "So….where were we?"
Pahir was all too glad he had decided not to purchase the potion. He was a man who thought more with his head than to be controlled by the desire below the belt. His heart had loved whom he had been in love with as a child. All these years, he had been too shy to approach her. It was a dream come true when his mother decided that no other woman would do for her favorite son except the woman of his dreams. Thus, Pahir rushed to the door, but as he was closing it behind him, he turned to take a last look at his brother to see if he would change his mind to leave with him. At that moment, he saw the beautiful witch changing into something hideous with a crooked nose and saggy skin covered in boils. Before he could scream in terror, the door slammed shut, and he heard his brother's muffled screams drowned in the witch's shrill laughter. Not knowing what to do, Pahir ran all the way home, tears blinding him as he ran until he reached his room and hid under the covers of the mat he slept on. It would be another 7 hours to prayer time when his wedding ceremony would commence immediately after.
Chapter 4: Feeding the Green-Eyed Monster
"Might I pry into the royal thoughts?" General Dominic broke the silence when he saw the thoughtful gaze in Princess Munirah's eyes. He loved her with all his heart, soul, and mind but could never tell her. That was what hurt the most…
"Why does she not indulge in the 10 perfections?" She whispered sadly. Sighing as he closed his eyes, Dominic was reluctant to break the magic of the moment when she looked so beautiful under the moonlight by talking about the red-haired Devil Mirah. But he had no choice. She is the princess of his heart and his future queen. Hence, he had to answer her questions.
"Because she is eaten by greed and envy and consumed by the hunger for power." He whispered back.
Munirah shed a silent tear. "Were we not given the same form of education in perfecting generosity, morality, wisdom, energy, forbearance, truthfulness, resolution, loving-kindness, equanimity, and even renunciation if we chose spirituality?"
Dominic bent down to gaze into the pools of gentle aspiration. "She dropped out, remember? Little Dove has energy has been geared toward defense, attack, and destruction. That was why I told you that you must not allow her to upsurge you for the sake of the people on Earth. A coup on her part would tear the planet apart. For the welfare of the world, we must be prepared."
The Crown Princess wanted to flee Dominic's arms and sob her heart out. Why must the world be so cruel? Sometimes, the safest place on Earth seemed just within her grasp. Yet, she was unable to do so. Not only do walls have ears, but some even say the shrubbery too. At all costs, she had to maintain a proper distance. For his sake at least …or maybe it was for hers. Her heart would not be able to bear it if he were sent home to Ursa Major. So she simply settled for a smile that warmed the General Prince's heart - her special smile meant for his eyes only and no one else's.
Spying on them from the veranda of his palace suite, Sultan Ra saw the intimacy between his favorite daughter and his favorite general, the son of one of his closest friends, King Mortar, who had been reduced to a minor king during a coup d'état, but he was given a smaller domain as compensation. He smiled an agreeable smile. He liked the idea of them getting married. It would ensure the safety of lineage of the right caliber. It would also mean an unbreakable alliance between Earth and Ursa Major. Everyone knew that the Kings of Ursa Major had come to a point where they thought with one mind, and their every action was carefully discussed to maintain peace and harmony.
"Alihan…" the Sultan gently motioned his faithful and overly soft-hearted Prime Minister to his side. Even Alihan's wife often wondered how her lamb of a husband ever grew to a position of such great importance. One in such a position needed to be wise and tough to make difficult decisions and take drastic actions whenever necessary.
"Your Majesty?" Alihan enquired, looking curiously at his Lord.
"While one daughter is a total disaster, the other is more than I could ever dare dream of. How many fathers are lucky enough to have the perfect political advantages and still make his daughter happy?" The Universal Monarch sighed, feeling sorry for the other fathers in the Universe at the same time.
"None that I can think of, Your Magnificence. You certainly are the luckiest of us all. Blessed beyond measure by the gods themselves!" Alihan bowed extravagantly with his hand waving in the air above his head in small circles before reaching all the way down to the floor in absolute awe and reverence. Pleased with the answer and the events at hand, Ra smiled as he stroked an invisible mustache.
In a secret room, Princess Mirah was pacing up and down, muttering angrily to herself over the humiliation cast upon her earlier when she turned to her magic crystal ball only to see the tenderness exchanged between the two lovebirds in the Garden of Moonbeam. The sister she hated and the man she could never have.. how sickening! With an incontrollable fury, she kicked her poor Utopian slave until she curled up into a fetal position. "Scream, you bitch! Scream if you feel any pain! You love that brat of a princess, don't you? Just like everyone else!!" Biting her lips n pain, the slave dared not cry out, for she knew it would further incite her mistress's wrath. Mirah heard a rib bone or two cracking with her last few kicks. She would have her replaced when her anger dissipated. Dissatisfied that she couldn't find any reason to torment Baeisha further, Mirah smashed a priced mirror that hung just beside her. It was the most expensive mirror in her possession - 16 blue diamonds embedded in a pure gold frame and was engraved on the back 'In honor of our General Princess. The Strength and Might of the Kingdom. The Flame of Kzahmut'. It was but one of the many gifts for her 16th birthday - a coming-of-age gift that was auspicious and significant. It was part of her wedding dowry, which would have shown the extent of her wealth, background, and status. Her father's disapproving gaze flashed through her mind. "No! I do not want to think of what my father would say or how he would look at me!" She cried and screamed out her frustrations.
Hearing her wails of torment, her nanny, an old toothless soothsayer, appeared at the doorway, faithfully as ever, to soothe the princess' troubles. "Them again?" She scowled. "I will show them! How dare they upset my baby!?"
Really?" Mirah sniffs. "You would hesitate no longer?" Her eyes open wide in anticipation.
"I never did hesitate, my dear. Many a time, I cast my spells that would have killed a thousand men, but she seems to be protected by heaven itself! I would have to use something even more sinister this time!" Her mind flashed back to the time when the Crown Princess was only a tiny blot in her mother's womb. By using the terrible magic weaved from the darkest and deepest parts of the ocean bed, she was able to insert the soul of her own daughter into the queen's womb as well. She had prayed that her daughter would be the chosen heir instead of Munirah. But still, the true princess managed to be the firstborn to claim her rightful place.
"That bitch queen of Sultan Ra! She must have altered the course somehow… I inserted Mirah nearer to the entrance of the womb." The old woman whispered to herself.
Mirah should have been born before Munirah; heaven was able to cheat the old witch of her victory by giving Munirah the last laugh… and perhaps it is the ways of the dark arts to trick one into losing everything. The cost of this dark magic came with a heavy price - to give up the one thing the welder loves the most. To Deidera, Mirah's nanny, it was to be admired by all who looked upon her. To be able to captivate them and bend them to her will. Her siren powers of seduction were unmatched by any of her kind. A man had only looked upon her face, and he was hers. His soul would tremble in fear of displeasing her. She missed that feeling of triumph over the lives of meager humans. The taste of their blood upon her lips, draining them a little by a little every day or dragging them into the deep to watch them suffer as the ocean water filled their lunges while they frightfully hung on to life just for her pleasure. Theirs was a bare flimsy thread ready to break at any moment to fulfill the pleasure of her cold, black heart. Now, her daughter is second born, the spare instead of the heir. Besides that, Deidera is forced to live hidden under the skin of an old hag -bent and toothless with breath so foul that one had to cover their noses and mouths as she spoke. The only person she was permitted to display all her glory and beauty before was her darling daughter, Mirah. For what!!? This angered her so much!
"No! That wrench will not laugh so easily. I will make her pay! All of them! They will squirm and wiggle like worms at my feet, and I will keep them barely alive for my amusement!" Oh, the joy of that thought. It made Deidera want to dance with the tempestuous waves of the sea. "They will pay! This, I swear!" She muttered silently to the wind. Oh, and what more? With Munirah's death, Mirah - her precious daughter shall be the new anointed heir! Her lips twisted into a sinister smile, and she laughed with a sound that crackled like the breaking of a thousand human bones.
Suddenly, the smoky mist in the magic crystal ball cleared again to show the scheming duo a plan that would make all matters fall into place. The secret lay in the dark forest of old. It was a story in old wives' tales where the forest would appear for a short span of time, often in different places, and quickly disappear again for hundreds of years. It showed that the old Elf King of the forest was dying, and to live, he needed to marry a virgin of pure heart. Only with the power invested in her blood could he be immortal. The only problem they had was…where were they to find him? Baeisha trembled with fear and pain. But her concern for Princess Munirah cleared her thoughts enough to utter a silent prayer. "Oh God of Gods, protect the heir of Kzahmut." She knew so much and was unable to reveal anything to the Sultan. Her only hope was prayer.
Mirah and Deidera exchanged a swift, knowing glance before racing to the General Princess's bed. There, they turned the carving of the Damask rose on the headboard clockwise until the flower faced the ground and the stem faced the heavens. As the bed moved to the side, it revealed many large steps down an ancient pathway. Deidera muttered in a strange tongue, causing Mirah's Ruby necklace to light up with an eerie red glow. With that as their only light source in the cold, damp darkness before them, they journeyed down many flights of stairs, keeping their hands on the wall as they moved and counted the turns and secret doors in the underground labyrinth.
Old and unknown as the maze was, its steps were well-trodden, and specific paths were clear of cobwebs and dust. But all that was lost upon the scheming duo in their eagerness to achieve their goal. As the hours grew longer and their breaths grew shorter with the increase of stale air around them, the sounds of the lapping waves of the sea grew louder. Excitement shot through Deidera as she quickened her paces towards the sound.
"Oh, how long it has been since I have touched and smelled the beautiful sea! I long for my homeland. My princess, when we reach the mouth of the cove, keep the ruby in your mouth and say... ARGGGHHHHH!!!!!" Deidera screamed with terror as she fell into a trap door beneath her. Sliding down the slippery antediluvian slide, she dug her nails into the sides of the walls as hard as she could in a desperate attempt to stop falling. Climbing up brick by brick yet sliding down further again each time. It was simply of no use. Had the slide been made of a smooth rock or made slippery by liquid of any kind, she could have commanded the forces of gravity to withhold the fall. Unfortunately for her, it was spun with the hair of Circinus Galaxy's fallen warriors. Theirs was hair finer than the softest silk, a thousand times more slippery than an oiled catfish as their lifespan is 1000 years compared to our 100 years – Earth's oldest enemy.
"Deidera!" Mirah screamed and kicked at the walls of solid mountain, trying to find the niche that her nursemaid could have triggered. She was alone and afraid. This was the first time they had adjourned down to the tombs of Ngeri though they had memorized the paths from an ancient architectural plan written by the first ruler of Kzahmut - Mananaog the Conqueror. However, they knew not what terrors lay waiting in the forgotten paths.
For the first time, the General Princess succumbed to her fear of the unknown and sat cautiously on the ground, her feet drawn to her in silent tears. "I don't know what to do. The sea is a world I have never been to. Without Deidera's guidance for the first time, I'm lost." Mirah sobbed.