Excommunication: A Short Story

 Author's note: 

This short story is part of a larger project to my novel, To the Beyond, which is currently in progress. Each story is an exploration of the characters, their upbringings and memorable moments that shaped who they've become by the time they are introduced in the book. These have been very fun to do and help explore the depth of who these people are.

Thank you for reading and being apart of this journey!

Awakening felt like drawing the first breath of life, only the air breathed hung with rot. For a moment it felt like she was floating. She shifted slightly where she laid, a bed made of dried shrubs blanketed with fur, and let out a cracked yelp. A painful soreness burned all over her body that burned like a rekindled flame. Her throat was parched. When she opened her eyes, a shriek came through, loud and agonizing. She heard curtain flaps move, then a hand clasping hers. 

"My eye!" She shrilled. "I-I can't see through it!" 

"Zelad please-!" An unfamiliar voice spiraled her further into confusion. Zelad ran her hand across her body; large crooked lines of stitches ran along the right side of her face and chest. Where her breast was now gone, reduced to flat stitched skin. "Please, Zelad..please you barely made it," the voice spoke through her panic. "Lay back down--someone, we need water! A rag as well, we need to clean the wounds!" She rocked side to side and cried like a baby, her impaled eye burning as tears formed at the corner of her eyes. "Umma.." she whimpered quietly. "Umma..it hurts Umma.." another kneeled beside her. With her good eye, Zelad could make out her sister's face, Nuraa, scrunched in worry. A cold, wetness pressed against her stitches and gently caressed her neck and chest. Nuraa brushed the wild hairs away from Zelads face. She caressed her face, uttering prayers under her breath. For a moment Zelad looked at her, a terrified childish sight. 

"Where is Umma?" Zelad asked hoarsely. 

"She's with Rem Bulibaa."

"I want her here." Nuraa hesitated before speaking. "She will be here soon," she replied. Contrary to her lie, their Umma would not come; the scrutiny they had faced in her sister's actions resulted in a trial that their Umma would face. Nuraa did not feel it right to confess the truth now. For now, she would whisper sweet nothings into Zelad’s ear until she fell asleep once again. She left her sister to rest and stepped out from the chamber. Waiting for her was Nasir, the Rems son staring at her with worry and remorse. "I heard screaming," he said. Nuraa paused, sighing deeply. "She's babbling and whining like a bubu. There's no way she could see your Ubba now, not yet." 

"He's agreed that your Umma would hold her position as Khokim until Zelad improves. But then you and your family find residency elsewhere." 

Nuraa closed her eyes. For a moment her soul floated outside of her body, outside of their horrid reality. Thoughts, regrets, they had all dimmed to a murmur in her mind. Still, she spoke with a cracked voice, "If only I stopped her." She looked at Nasir who remained quiet, bearing the same guilt. Nuraa continued. "I'd thought she would die in her voyage and I thought--" now that she was near the truth, her voice wavered. "I thought she would die. And then it would have been over." 

The disgust was clear on Nasir's face. He'd never intervened on the matters of Nuraa and Zelads sisterhood, but he was not too wise to understand the conflict. Not as a lone child. He strutted past Nuraa without exchanging another word. She didn't wait to see him kneel by Zelads side, watching her with wide saddened eyes whilst she breathed heavily.  She stepped out to the crowd that formed around the kasa, watching with judging eyes as she departed the premise. No one spoke to her, and that was pleasant enough. 

She trudged down the path that stretched out into an area of forest no one resided in, listening to the hums of birds that scattered across the trees. Her head hung low, shoulders tense, and heart riddled with guilt. As she neared an opening to the beach, a heavy smell of warm, molding meat was dense in the air. Nuraa held her breath as much as she could, peering at the large beast laying lifeless at shore. Waves lapped over its body, dragging along with it the blood that pooled from its mouth. Nuraa cringed at the sight. The mighty conqueror Lakar, the maker of widowers and tyrant of seas laid on their sands slain. 

Weeks passed slowly. The stench of Lakar's decomposing corpse caused the people of the island to remain within their homes, and even then they could not escape the smell of death. A few gathered attempting to push her body back to the ocean. But the size of Lakar nearly compared to the island, and the people returned to the villages unsuccessful. Days later, they'd fallen ill. 

Zelad would wake and fade, sometimes conscious and other times, a babbling terrible mess. Nuraa visited her sparingly, making her appearance when her sister was deep in slumber. It would make facing her bearable, staring at the stitched skin. It looked morbid. It looked uncomfortable. She felt her throat tighten whenever she stared too long. When she awoke Nuraa departed, allowing the doctors within the Kasa to tend to the delirium. When Zelad was strong enough to stand and walk, Nuraa sat beside the entrance of the room. She waited for Zelad to come to her, leaning against the structure of the building. They stood awkwardly silent for a moment, then Zelad slowly said, "It smells like shit." Nuraa scoffed. "It's the same everywhere. The whole island--smells like rot." She stared at Zelad expectedly, waiting for perhaps an apology, an explanation of a sort. "Umma is no longer Khokim. She stood for what you've done." 

"Nuraa I-" 

"You couldn't move on," Nuraa continued, the pressure in her chest rising to her throat. "So many men died at the jaws of Lakar; what was so special this time?" 

"This was our Ubba," Zelad replied sternly. "It was for the children and the ubbaa's.."

"Oh by the Gods.." Nuraa rolled her eyes. "..and the ummaa's that Lakar trapped in the sea. I did us a favor." Zelad was taken aback from her sister's dry laugh. She could see it; pure disgust and shame that she couldn't even look Zelad in the eyes. When she did, they were tearful. "This was no favor sister, this was a fucking curse." Nuraa walked past her sister, uttering, "You should have gone down with it." 

That was the last Zelad would see of Nuraa. She'd never get the chance to see her Umma. Once Zelad could walk on her own, her belongings were cleaned out and received in a large weaved bag. No final word of goodbye, just the silent judging weight carried upon her shoulders as she shamefully walked through the villages. No one paid attention to her, they acted as they would. Only the people covered their faces with bulas, and the scattered vendors lit scented ash beside their goods to mask what they could of the smell. Zelad met the gazes of a few village folk, all averted her eye. 

The directionless walking led to her Thua's home. Standing still, she waited to see movement within the hut. Then she called out his name. Once, twice. The door creaked open and there stood her father's brother; a tall, lean old man whose beard began to turn gray but his head was bare and smooth. The wrinkles along his eyes made his lids sag creating the illusion that his eyes were closed like a man walking in his sleep. "You're alive." His voice was clear and monotone.  Zelad shifted in her place. She wasn't sure if Thua welcomed her. "I took your advice out there." His lip twitched. "And returned victorious. How does it feel?" 

"I don't feel victorious," Zelad gulped. A sagging heavy feeling weighed in her stomach. "Thua… I did something wrong. I did something really wrong." She dropped her bag of belongings to the ground and broke into a sob. Her Thua approached her, hugged her gently, grabbed the satchel and walked her to his Kasa.