Kia's Desert
Kia fled the wise-woman’s tent, tears falling from her eyes as she opened her heart to her people. All around her, battle raged, and though she ran into her people and her enemy, no one paid attention to her. She was One. As far as they were concerned, she could have been a tree. This was her power, to walk unseen, unheard.
Her heart, open to her people’s pain, open to her enemy’s pleasure, grew heavy. Tripping among large tree roots jutting from the ground, she found a place to lay and hide. Each death she felt—both those of her people and those of her enemy. And with each death came the powers.
The gods had given each person a special gift. Hers was the ability to become One with the land and people. Power was meant to be used. Trembling, and not at all ready, Kia closed her eyes and left her body, expanding herself to the edges of the battlefield.
Pain and joy, happiness and sorrow, regret and pleasure filled her. As she started to cry, rain fell. Thunder came as she sobbed. And when someone died, their power came to her in lightening.
She knew not how long it had been since the first of her people fell. Now, Kia watched as the last life left the last body that belonged to her tribe. At that moment, the storm came to a close as she gave a silent prayer for their lives. The enemy took that as a good sign. They threw their fists into the air noiselessly. Then as one, they banged their shields, letting their voices ring in victory.
Anger swelled within her, and Kia looked up, the wind blowing her sigh. Two armies stood in the sky in front of her, finally at peace. Though they did not speak, she knew they wanted her to give the foolish people a sign and a warning.
The wind still blew. Kia turned her back on the new Sky People and raised both of her arms. Whispers, chants, and singing filled the air, hushing the warriors who were still alive. They heard what they needed to hear, whether it was anger, sadness, joy, or forgiveness. The hush spread throughout the forest and plains. All of nature became quiet with the warriors.
Yes, there was victory. But there was also loss. She had to make them remember. The wind became still with the last of nature on the battlefield, and for hundreds of miles around. The enemy stood still, afraid to move.
Lowering her arms, she sobbed, thundering the sky. Fear took the warriors as Kia called the circles of nature-life under the feet of the men and women who had killed. Insects, plants, all, rose up into the air as dust to rest at Kia’s feet.
The warriors cried out, not in victory or fear, but in shame. Again, Kia raised her arms, and the Sky People whispered and sang and chanted. But her sobs and the thunder continued. However, love guided her actions. One word rang from her lips as she dropped her arms again. “Go!” The forest took up its life again—the plains and the hills, also.
Reluctantly, the warriors left, too. They were not surprised when the ground beneath their steps turned brown at the touch of their feet. They quickly made their separate ways, to places away from their brethren in war. A few of them fell to the earth quickly, burdened by their actions, by their shame in the joy of them. But they stumbled, trying to get up, to go a few more paces, away from the place of their shame.
She felt their shame and had pity on them. Bring her hands in front of her, she bent down and cupped the brown dust. Kia kissed the handful she had, and it turned golden, with an inner fire. The rest of the dust at her feet turned the same color.
The dust, that was now sand in her hands trickled through her fingers to the earth. The rest of the sand followed, not touching a single warrior. One by one, they got up again, and kept going, their weapons left behind. Again, the earth died under their feet. But instead of lifeless brown dust, there was golden sand with an inner burning fire.
As the warriors left, the whole land turned to golden red sand save for the cluster of trees and the brook where Kia’s body lay. Turning around again, Kia met the eyes of the Sky People. They were content with what she had don\e. And though their bodies had turned to sand, they remembered and reminded her that the warriors—and any who would travel the new desert—would need an oasis like the one in which she lay.
Kia charged the Sky People with the task of making the oases and dismissed them to their fun. As they left her, they bowed, and Kia cried, making it rain again, lightly. There remained but a small group of the thousands that had stood before her. The girl who was but eighteen joined her family—her mother, father, brother, and her aunt who was the wise woman who made it possible for Kia to live.
The four of them hugged her, proud of what she had done…