Daughters of Ala'a

 Without further ado, meet Siamak and Nihani. Two of the Daughters of Ala'a

Chapter One

She knelt in front of her mirror and placed her braids into a warped bun on the crown of her head. She mixed the clay from her Tribe with water and painted it on her skin in the symbols of her Tribe, her mother, her line and her SIsters. She placed her armor on one piece at a time, her undershirt, then her thickened leathers, her hide boots. Then came her metal gauntlets, then the knives her Tribe made from the special metals in the mountains they nestled against. She rose to her feet, then made her way over to her companion, curled around herself nestled on her bed in a sunbeam. 

Her companion’s scales were a deep grey with its edges dipped in light copper. Her diamond shaped head gleamed with dark grey eyes, and when she opened her mouth her palate was as black as night. 

“Is it time my sister?,”  her companion asked her, with her forked tongue elongating the “s” sounds in her words. “Time for vengeance? To spill blood? To feast?”

“It is time Nihani. We will turn the clay red. We will breathe in their blood, drink it and feast on it.” she replied to her Scale-Sister. 

“Then let us be on our way Siamak. We have much blood to spill.” Nihani slithered up Siamak’s arm, up her neck, and wrapped herself around Siamak’s braided bun and neck, with her head resting on Siamak’s forehead right between her brows. Siamak made her way through her home and out the beaded door, she and her mother spent hours making. She gently caressed the beads on her way out. She made her way to the center of the Tribe, where the rest of her Sister’s were waiting with their Scale-Sisters positioned like Nihani. She took her place in the semi-circle around the Tribe Matriarch’s Meeting House. 

Siamak and her Sisters bow to the Tribe Matriarch as she exits the Meeting House. The Tribe Matriarch was a tall, round woman, with deep dark glowing skin, covered in the clay drawn symbols of their Tribe. Her hair was black peppered with silver, done up in a braided bun, with her Scale-Sister adorning her like others. The Tribe Matriarch was adorned in her ceremonial battle leathers, woven through with thin threads of their mountain metal. 

The Tribe Matriarch bows to them, “Daughters. It is good to see you all assembled here in front of me. The best warriors in our Tribe. I wish it were for better reasons. Unfortunately, you go forth to mere out vengeance. The Pale Ones have been raiding the Tribes at the edge of our lands. Killing, raping, and stealing our people. We have finally learned where they have been taking them, and where they have been raiding from. You will kill them all. You will make them regret ever stepping foot on Ala’a land. They think we are easy prey, because they raided our farming Tribes. They will find this prey has teeth. Spill their blood. Make the clay run red. Scale-Daughters feast. Leave only bones as warning. Let them know,  Ala’a is NOT theirs for the taking.” 

The Matriarch stepped further in the semi-circle of her Daughters and they formed a complete circle around her. She began to sing and dance and her Scale-Sister began to writhe to her beat, Her Daughters closed their eyes and began to move with her. Stepping out of the shadows of the buildings and encircling the Daughters, the other villagers joined in. They all moved in the Ceremonial War Dance, and each word spoken and sung by the Matriarch and Tribe was a spell. A spell that strengthened their Daughters both Scale and Skin. It thickened scales and skin, enhanced speed and skill and sight, it made them ready for anything. The Daughters of Ala’a were going to war.