1st 5 Pages October Workshop- Willis

Name: Latrice Willis
Genre: Young Adult Fantasy

Title: THE WAYFARER'S CHAINS

The plucking of the linti's ten strings complemented the slow rhythm of the drum. Naja's voice wafted among the instruments. Mika’s arms moved in tune with the words, swirling and waving with each lyrical inflection. She spun around, thrusting her arms upward, and accentuated her turns with the stomp of her right heel. As Naja's voice faded, Mika leaped into a split. The only sound from the crowd was the shifting of bodies on the crudely built benches.

Mika stepped back, now in line with her two close friends, Lewa and Malani. Her eyes quickly ran over the crowd in front of them. It was an intimate group of just over thirty people, all family and friends. She looked at Lewa. The excitement in Lewa’s own green eyes matched Mika’s. Mika then signaled to Malani.

It was time.

The voices of the crowd rose and hands came together as the drum thundered. There was a cheer with each leap, foot stomp, arm movement, and body roll from the three dancers. They made use of the small area between the crowd and the musicians, switching their positions so each one had a chance to be featured. Mika blinked at the sweat in her eyes. She could hear Malani panting. He was struggling to keep up with the routine. They were so close, they couldn’t stop now. Mika needed to block it out. Lewa made a series of short leaps. Dust rose from the ground from Malani's frantic feet. The drums were getting louder and louder. Mika launched herself from the ground one last time.

There was one last pluck of the linti string and a softening drum roll as Mika landed on her feet. The crowd jumped from the benches, clapping and cheering for them. Mika smiled through her heavy breathing. It was the first time she and her friends had performed in front of everyone. It took four weeks of practice, sore bodies, and a few missed meals, but their hard work had paid off.

Mika glanced at Malani and Lewa, giving them each a slight nod. Malani backed away, leaving the two girls alone. The drum started again as the crowd died down. It was time for the most anticipated part of the routine: the ruthabattle.

It was an honor for Mika and Lewa to perform a rutha battle in front of their Sanga tribe. The traditional martial art was usually taught to young boys. Mika’s mother, who learned rutha through her husband, advocated for the girls to learn along side Mashi. Tribe leader Mashi was soft-hearted and gave in to their please. In a matter of four years, both girls had mastered the complex moves which incorporated dance with swift arms, elbows, kicks, flips, and cartwheels. The girls were ecstatic when Sanga leader Mashi asked them to perform at the party.

There were excited murmurs as Mika and Lewa faced each other. The sixteen-year-olds stood about five feet three inches. Like most people from south Khalavan, the girls had plump lips, thick, tightly coiled hair, and dark amber colored skin. But Sanga tribe members stood out due to their bright green eyes and hair, the color of malachite found in the mines in the north.

For that night’s performance, Mika pulled her hair into a ponytail of tiny braids, adorned with beads. She spent all morning painting tribal designs on her headband. Lewa parted her hair into twelve thick braids with large white beads attached to the ends. They wore matching sleeveless cropped shirts and matching shorts. Three rows of blue and brown beads were attached to each side of the shorts. Small white and gold tassels were attached to the sides of the shorts.

Mika and Lewa began rocking back and forth, one foot behind the other.

"Amijo!" Malani shouted. Lewa made the first move with a spinning kick aimed for Mika’s right shoulder and chest. Mika felt Lewa’s leg brush her hair as she ducked, and retaliated with her own spinning kick at Lewa’s shoulder. The series of kicks between the girls continued; a move that would make the average Khalan dizzy. That was the choreographed part of their routine. Once Lewa flipped back to get away from Mika, the girls would have to rely on their own skills and ability to read each other to win the battle.

The girls fought furiously, grunting, and yelping with each hit. One-handed cartwheels and flips targeted the upper body, and sweeping legs were directed towards ankles and shins. Mika's elbow clipped Lewa's chin, but Lewa damaged Mika's right side with a knee. They had only been fighting for three minutes, but the girls began to slow down as their bodies grew fatigued. They kept going under the strong encouragement of the crowd. Even during training for that night, Mika suspected they wouldn’t be able to rein themselves in. She was right.

It was time for the take down.

Mika dove feet first, opening her legs just enough to envelope Lewa’s left leg. With the slight twist of her body, she used her weight to pull Lewa down to the ground. Lewa groaned as her back hit the dirt.

"Mika bota!" Malani declared Mika the winner. Mika bent down to help Lewa. During most of their training sessions, Mika was often the one who prevailed. That night, Lewa’s determination was much stronger than usual. Mika had to admit her friend put up a good fight. With their arms around each other, the two girls walked into the parting crowd.

"Mika! Lewa!" Mika’s mother, Alaya, pushed her way to through the group. "Come on girls. Let’s get you taken care of." Alaya had recently turned forty years old, but many people outside their tribe assumed she was Mika’s sister. She was the same height as Mika, with green eyes that turned slightly upward on wrinkle-free face.

Alaya led Mika and Lewa to a pair of cushions near the food table. A small, overturned box with a large ceramic pot of ootuga paste, gauze, and flat string were set up next to the cushions. She anticipated the girls’ injuries, and had the foresight to prepare the area for them.

"You girls looked great out there," Alaya said in a hushed voice as Mika and Lewa sank into the goose feather-filled cushions. "Mika, you're better than I ever was. I was so happy to see you two out there, I wanted to join you!" She laughed as she removed the lid from the jar.

The crowd quieted down as it was now time for Mashi to speak. Mashi was not only the leader of their tribe, he was also Malani's father. Mika couldn’t see Mashi through the people, but she could hear his voice commanding their attention. She flinched when the cold, dark green ootuga paste hit her wrist, slowly disappearing as her mother rubbed it onto her skin. The pains from her fight quickly dulled as the thin layer took effect.

"Stop squirming," Alaya ordered. Mika turned towards the crowd, not heeding her mother’s words.

"...for our younger generations," Mashi was saying, "Malani, Lewa, Mika, thank you all for that beautiful display of rutha. We are looking at you young ones to keep the traditions of the Sanga alive. Thank you for showing us such passion and dedication tonight." There was applause and a few people turned in their direction.

"And now," Mashi’s voice silenced the applause, "Datani, will you come here please?" Mika perked up.