Long ago, when the earth was young and the gods still roamed the earth, there was a young saber known far and wide as the most lovely of all. She was Star Among the Trees, Najima, and it was said that she was born when moonlight struck a meadow clearing, blooming out of a flower. Many suitors came to win her favor, but they were all rejected by Najima’s Zaeim.
The leader was Kills Without Mercy, Alqatil, and it was well known that he had his lustful gaze fixed on Najima. He gave any saber who pursued her impossible tasks and laughed at them when they complained. He was her Zaeim, after all, and no one could challenge his leadership.
It happened that there was a rather famous saber who wandered into Alqatil’s forest. Grace of the Forest, Ghaba, was a Muharib of great renown. Many Zaeims sought him out to join their tribes, wanting the mighty warrior to increase their power, but he turned them all down with the simple message: “I have not found my purpose.”
Ghaba entered the forest and wandered for some time until he came across Najima, who was tending the meadow flowers. Unlike other sabers, who only saw her beauty and docility, Ghaba was enraptured by her quiet pride and the way she took her time to tend to every flower and plant individually.
“I have never seen such careful work,” Ghaba said, stepping from the shadows of the forest. “Where did you learn your craft, dear Siad?”
Najima looked upon Ghaba and wasn’t impressed. “I am no Siad. I am Alraaei.” She turned back to her flowers. “I learned from no one but myself.”
Ghaba wasn’t phased by her cool demeanor. “Siad, Alraaei. I do not see the difference. Surely titles like that mean nothing when compared to your beauty and charm?”
“Your words are hollow and honied,” Najima said shortly. “Many sabers have come and spoken pretty words, but no one has ever held up their promises.”
“Then let me be the first,” Ghaba said. “Let me change your mind. Give me a task and I’ll do it for you – anything for you to just give me the chance.”
Najima watched Ghaba for a long while before finally replying. “If you can bring me a stone from the Cavern of Souls, then I will consider it.”
Ghaba dipped his head. “Anything for you.” Then he set off to the Cavern of Souls, determined to find the best stone for Najima.
The Cavern of Souls was a dangerous place, one filled with the restless dead spirits. The old and sick would wander into the glittering caves and disappear forever. It was said that they could walk straight to the heavens if their hearts were pure – if not, they would become trapped forever in the earth.
Ghaba knew all this but still faced the Cavern without hesitation. It wasn’t hard to find: two pieces of obsidian ripping through the ground like the maw of a great beast marked the entrance. Plants couldn’t grow nearby and birds refused to sing in front of the sacred corridor. The air itself shimmered with a chaotic mixture of holy reverence and vile hatred.
As Ghaba stared into the inky abyss, he wondered which stone he was supposed to select. There were glittering crystals of every shape and color, but nothing caught Ghaba’s attention. Diamonds, rubies, emeralds, amethyst – it all laid in piles like discarded toys. They were both beautiful and sorrowful.
“You’d do well to only take what you need.” From the darkness emerged a ghostly visage. Though it was most definitely a saber, Ghaba could see the stone right through it. Its eyes glowed with an eerie green fire and it glided across the ground without moving its paws.
Ghaba watched the apparition warily. “Who are you? A demon come to trick me?”
“I am many things,” the ghost sighed. “I am the past and the present, and perhaps the future. Once I wandered into these caves and took what I didn’t need. Now I’m trapped here forever.” It drifted past Ghaba with a whisper of wind. “Be wise, fair wanderer.”
When Ghaba was sure the phantom had disappeared, he made his way deeper into the desolate cavern. It was a paradox – filled with color, but utterly devoid of life. Wails of grief and despair filled the air and beckoned Ghaba closer to ensnare him. Ghostly white monsters reached out long tendrils to him, offering riches and power, but he ignored them all.
Ghaba wandered into the cave for many hours until he came across a small smooth black stone. It wasn’t a treasure by any means, but it was simple and elegant and Ghaba thought it was perfect for Najima’s simple grace.
Taking the stone, Ghaba was surprised to find none of the ghosts tried to impede his path. They raged at him with wails and shrieks, but none of them moved forward. The twisting and winding pathways merged into a single clear passage and led him out of the yawning cavern.
The sky was alight with stars by the time Ghaba finally surfaced. Fireflies danced in the dusk air as nightingales and whippoorwills sang to the moon.
“You actually did it.” Ghaba looked up to see Najima appear from the copse of trees. “I had thought you fled.”
“I promised I would bring you a stone, and thus I have,” Ghaba said, placing the stone in front of Najima. “It’s no sparkling crystal or priceless gem, but it’s special.”
Najima watched Ghaba for several long minutes before finally bowing her head to him. “Perhaps I was wrong about you, wanderer.”
“Lift your head.” Ghaba came forward and put his muzzle to Najima’s cheek. “I don’t want your subservience. I want your partnership. Will you allow me to court you?”
Najima’s eyes clouded slightly. “I would… but you will have to face my Zaeim. He’s a cruel and belligerent master, and he will not take lightly to you. There’s a good chance he will give you impossible quests to complete.”
“Nothing,” Ghaba said, “is impossible with you at my side.” Then, with Najima guiding, he went into the depths of the forests to face Alqatil and whatever challenges he set before them.”