(Rating: PG for mild language)
- Editor’s Note: This is an excerpt from Adeel Ahmed’s upcoming series of books about super-heroes and Mythology all combined into a single world. The story follows a trio of three unusual teens. Artwork provided by David Liew.
WINONA: FIRST MEMORY
Mother told her to wait In front of the forge. At least Winona thought that was what her mother wanted. In these last two weeks of her life, Winona still did not understand words, but her mother gestured and pointed for her to stay so she stayed. Mama always knew best.
Human children surrounded her yammering and pointing at her as she flicked her tongue out and at the serpentine body coiled below her waist. One little girl in particular seemed to take the lead in the yelling; Winona only understood a few words from the girl’s mouth such as ‘Lamia’ and ‘Naga’. Words her mother had used when speaking about their people. But these kids added the words ‘snake’ and ‘dangerous’.
The girl was afraid of her; she could taste the fear with her tongue. All of the children were afraid of her, hiding that fear underneath the laughing faces.
One of the children said a word Winona did not recognize. They repeated it again and again, pointing at the human girl.
“Chicken,” they said.
What is Chicken? Winona wanted to understand this new word.
They chanted this word at the girl. She snarled, lifted a stick, swunging it at Winona.
These humans were so slow, thought Winona gracefully slithered her body out of the way. Then the girl said something Winona had heard a lot.
“Monster!” screamed the girl.
“Monster!” yelled the other children hurling stones in Winona’s direction.
Winona hissed at them. What else was she to do? Mama did not like it when she used her claws and teeth. Not that she needed to anyway. These children were weak, and the stones barely hurt her. They were not sharp enough to cut her skin and the stick too slow. Winona felt her stomach rumble just as her mother had warned.
These kids…how would they taste?
Winona heard a child scream. From the side a young boy with bright silver-blue eyes ran at the children brandishing a knife. She knew this boy. The other children were afraid of him for some reason she could never fathom. He always seemed so kind.
I wonder how he tastes?
The children scattered as the boy ran to her side. He patted down her body muttering a single word. He always said that word a lot when she was around.
“Interesting.”
The big humans and her mother had a name for this boy.
Khalid. His name was Khalid.
“Khalid,” said Winona in her shrill voice, wrapping her lower body around him, hugging him in her tiny arms, “Khalid.”
The boy then softly murmured to her. As always, she only had a vague idea of what he was saying. She recognized the words “Prison” and “prison children”. He repeated a word she did not understand. The word was “ruthless”.
“What is ruthless? Khalid tell? ” asked Winona with wide-eyed fascination.
“Children. Ruthless is what children are,” said Khalid.
***
Winona felt a hand touch her, ripping her from dreams of the past. She jumped up grabbing the hand roughly with her own, sanking her fangs into the shoulder it belonged to. The owner of that shoulder collapsed to the floor.
The teenage girl opened her eyes to find Khalid lying unconscious.
Thank the goddess her default venom was a sedative.
It’s going to be one of those mornings again…
KHALID: MOTHER AND SISTER
“Come at me again,” commanded his mother. She was wearing her Niqab and Abaya leaving only her silver-blue eyes were exposed. Her eyes and the hand holding a stick was all he could see. Khalid figured he would grab her loose clothing and use it against her. But it didn’t work. Nothing worked.
“Aww come on Khawla, leave him alone,” said Zise. The purple-haired girl sat crouched on the dirty floor within in the shadows of the fire-light.
“No. This is a prison. This small outpost offers no friends. We have no one protecting us anymore. He must learn to protect himself,” said Khawla.
Gliding across the dirt, she disappeared from sight causing Khalid to feel an impact across his back. The boy cried out swinging his stick wildly.
Another strike. More pain. Blood began to trickle down the side of his face.
“Stop it, Khawla!” cried Zise.
Within seconds, Khalid felt a blow strike the top of his head, then his legs. He dropped his stick as something sharply rapped the top of his hand.
“Khawla, what’s gotten into you?” Zise covered Khalid’s body with her own.
“No one is protecting us now Zise. No one. No one here is a friend. This is prison,” Khawla turned her back away. He held back the tears. He would not cry, never. If his mother saw such weakness it would only get worse… there is a price for tears.
Khalid pushed Zise away, running off. The purple-haired girl called after him.
He pumped his legs as fast as they would take him. It was futile of course; not even his mother was as fast as Zise. Khalid expected to be scooped up any time.
Where was she?
Khalid stopped and turned to see her regarding him sadly. She looked almost broken. As Allah was a witness she had been through enough in the last few weeks. Any other time he would have consoled her. But not now. Khalid didn’t want to talk to anyone.
He continued onward stopping at a small playground upon the outskirts of the outpost. One of the remnants of the civilization that existed upon this planet before it became a prison. Older children sat on the ruined jungle gym pointing at Khalid.
One by one they jumped off, slowly walking toward him. He recognized one of as the girl who had swung a stick at Winona earlier that day. There was another child of note, older than the rest. A tall boy. Perhaps twelve or thirteen years old.
“It’s him,” said the girl fearfully. “He’s Khawla’s son.”
“Yeah so what? He looks like just a skinny little kid to me. He’s bleeding. Looks like someone beat the crap out of him,” said the pre-teen.
Khalid’s unnaturally sharp mind read the situation instantly. He would not wait for things to escalate. He jumped into the air and brought his booted foot across the teen’s jaw.
The boy dropped resulting in the children screaming, running frantically away. Stupid. All of them stupid. Cruel and ruthless. Their parents were criminals, perhaps teaching them at an early age to prey upon the weak and to form gangs.
I hate this intellegence. I hate it.
The adults were even worse in their depravity. Only their fear of his mother and her friends deterred them. The men were the worst.
He couldn’t hate the women. They were in such a pathetic state on this horrible planet. They rarely did any harm in their state as chattal. Traded like objects. Only the strong women were free like those around Khalid.
He had forgotten it was a prison. How could he have been blind to the realities of this place? Emperor Wong founded a colony where women, children and men could be safe under his law. It was the closest thing to paradise on this horrible world. Under Emperor Wong everyone acted like they were back on earth, that they were not here for punishment. Everyone at that part of the prison was friendly — the adults were kind and the children stupid and docile.
But it was all gone now, along with Old Man Wong.
“I gotcha.”
Khalid was knocked to the ground as male body covered him. He could smell booze on the old man’s rotting teeth.
“I gotcha. I gotcha. The Arab woman’s kid. She’ll do anything to get you back,” The man wrapped his arm around Khalid’s neck from behind. A rear naked choke. By Allah! Does every damn inmate know fighting skills in this place.
Khalid felt the world grow dim.
Suddenly the man released him.
The silver-eyed boy fell to his knees gasping desperately for breath. As his eyes became unblurred he gazed at the old man to witness him frantically pushing a small half snake, half girl creature away. Her snake part had wrapped around the man’s arm as her teeth buried themselves into his neck.
“Winona stop. Stop,” Khalid grabbed her blue hair.
The Naga girl released the man to stare at Khalid in bewilderment. Khalid looked down at the man’s body and brought his ear to that fetid mouth. Breathing. Shallow. But breathing.
She doesn’t know how to kill with her venom yet, thought Khalid in wonder.
What a fascinating thing she was. And so strong too. Her arms were small and slender yet her upper body had the appearance of a five-year-old girl. Yet she overpowered a fully grown man.
Of all the Myth, her race of the Naga and Lamia were among the most feared.
She was only a few weeks old. She practically had the wisdom of a two-year-old.
The boy flinched upon feeling tiny arms wrap around his waist from behind, her head pressed into his back.
“Khalid,” squeaked Winona in her high pitched voice.
“Winona? Oh no, what happened here?”
He turned to see a woman creature with reddish-brown skin with copper green hair and snake-like lower body. She had specks of copper running down the sides of her face. She was adorned by what appeared to be cloth covered with beads. She also wore a headband with a feather.
“Mama,” said Winona broke away from Khalid, slithering rapidly into the woman’s arms.
“What happened?” said the woman. The moonlight glinted off her lava-coloured irises. She reminded Khalid of some sort of land mermaid, with her tail and iridescent clothing.
“Nothing Ms. Macawe. A man, attacking two children. He beat me up. See? I got a good beating. Winona saved me. Please don’t yell at her,” pleaded Khalid. He liked Macawe just like he liked Zise. Both women seemed out of place in this horrible world; they didn’t belong in prison. She was so nice… so…safe. A strange thing to think about a woman born from a species that preyed on humans.
“Your mother beat you. Everyone is talking about it. She’s probably waiting for you. Come with me,” said Macawe sternly cradling Winona in her left arm while grabbing Khalid with her free hand.
“No!” Khalid refused. “Please. Please, just not tonight. Not tonight.”
Macawe sighed with a frown. She placed Khalid and Winona upon her tail and began slithering slowly away to a cave. Macawe had lodging available to her, but always favoured sleeping in the wild. Khalid thought it was cool. She was so cool. An awesome snake lady and her cool daughter.
The cave was surprisingly tidy; the smell of burning incense filled his nostrils.
Macawe lifted Winona into her arms and wrapped him around her tail. The snake woman laid her upper body upon her lower body and cradled her daughter. But the little serpent girl leapt out of her arms and settled herself beside Khalid.
“We’re partially cold-blooded. You’re a lot warmer than I am to her. She knows that.” Macawe remarked smiling. Her scaled tail was not as warm as a person’s skin, but it had a pleasant,l dull heat to it, a leathery blanket.
Khalid felt a strange sensation; he recognized this emotion because he often experienced it. Envy. This girl and her mother were not even human, they were members of one of the most feared species on earth. Yet Khalid clearly felt their deep affection for each other. His mother? All she ever did was hit him, yell at him, ignore him.
Even the criminal children and their equally vile parents hugged and kissed each other sometimes. They even played together.
Not his mother, however.
“Khalid. Do you see the small specks of blue running down the sides of her face and body? We have those specks upon our spines too. Massage those marks upon her spine. It will calm her down. Soothe her. She’s so full of energy. Help her sleep.” Macawe smiled a fanged smile down upon him as she rested her hand upon his head, “I’ll stroke your hair. The humans I grew up with enjoyed that. ”
I’m surprised they didn’t kill you, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
Khalid pressed his fingers down Winona’s spine, pressing into each and every one of those blue specks. The little girl shuddered, then yawned as her eyelids drooped.
Macawe began to sing softly.
“Oh, Serpent Mother,
Buddha’s enlightenment.
Oh, Serpent Mother,
Naga’s divinity.
Oh, Serpent Mother,
Our soul’s guardian.
Oh, Serpent mother,
Taker of the evil,
Oh, Serpent mother,
Love’s light-giver.
Endless love for all her daughters
Endless love, made in her image.
Oh, Serpent Mother,
Fount of fertility.
O Serpent Mother,
Bower of lovers
Balance of both male and female.
Balance of strength and healing.
Honored by her Naga daughters.
Honor of the soil of life.
Sacred Womb of all creation
Sacred Vessel of redemption
Honour shall be ever Yours…
Daughters, heed your Mother’s ways.”
It’s like a Sufi chant on Allah and the nafs.
“Ouch,” grunted Khalid. He touched his neck. It was as if two needles stabbed into him.
“Winona. How many times did I tell you? No biting when we sleep. Especially humans. Is this how you treat your friend?” chided Macawe.
As he began to black out, he noticed the little, blue-haired Naga yawning and cuddling next to him.
~ by Adeel Ahmed