The sound of bells continued to ring rhythmically as a demure, hunched-over woman entered the tent followed by eleven others – six men and five women.
Once she stood in front of Dawa, the bells stopped ringing.
“Esteemed grand elder.” They greeted.
The grand elder nodded and turned to look at Dawa.
“A messenger has given me orders from the Emperor. An envoy will be here by midday to bring you to the Marigold Palace in the country of Li. You only have a few hours left with your family….and the rest of the tribe.”
Dawa knew the grand elder was reluctant to send her away but given the political climate of larger nations and her dying culture, it must be done.
“I understand grand elder.” Dawa replied with a dignified expression. “I will say my goodbyes and prepare my belongings.”
The grand elder nodded again. “Good. I will come by again once the envoy has arrived. Do take care to ensure you have everything with you.”
Usually, that phrase would be used by mothers to remind their children to not forget their swords when they’d go hunting for bat worms but Dawa knew the underlying meaning:
You’ll never come back
The grand elder turned her back to Dawa and Bora and left the tent, the other elders following suit. Dawa could only stare as each elder filed out one-by-one.
“I’ve already packed my things so I guess all I need to do is wear the gown right?”
“Indeed.” Bora smiled softly. “Let’s go into the next room. Wake your sisters so they can help you.”
Dawa walked into the smaller room in the tent. Her two little sisters were still sprawled on the tartan mat. She giggled slightly and started to shake them both.
“Gerel, Geriel, time to wake up.”
“Too tired ~”
“I wanna sleep~”
The two young girls whined and refused to get up.
“Awww, but didn’t you guys say that you wanna help me with my hair today and make me the best-looking concubine Li has ever seen?” Dawa teased.
At the sound of ‘best-looking’, Gerel and Geriel immediately sat up, tiredness completely melted away.
“Oh yeah! I nearly forgot!”
“C’mon Da-da, we gotta get started!”
Gerel pulled on Dawa’s skirt while Geriel pushed her forward from behind. It was quite funny and Dawa’s smile dropped a little when she realised that she would never see her sisters again and enjoy such games.
Her two sweet sisters plunked Dawa in front of a square mirror that was on the tartan mat.
“What hairstyle shall we do?” Gerel asked while holding the bone comb and clutching a portion of Dawa’s sleek black hair.
“Well, since she’s going to Li, we should try to do a style from that region.”
“Hold on! Do we even know what girls’ hair is like in Li??”
“How do you not know?! You were supposed to ask that Li merchant that passed by us a month ago.”
“I was??? Since when?!”
“Argh! This is why I can never rely on you. You have a memory worse than an eel-lizard — and at least eel-lizards know when their master is giving them instructions.”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“WHO ARE YOU CALLING AN EEL-LIZARD?! If I’m an eel-lizard, so are you!”
“Just because we are twins, doesn’t me we are the sam—”
“Darlings, please.” Dawa raised her arms to stop her squabbling sisters. “If it is alright with you, I would like my hair to be styled in our Taban tribe’s maiden braids.”
“…”
The Taban tribe is one few of the cultivation clans left in the Huayi continent that still actively practice their unique form of cultivation. While combat and spells are commonly taught to disciples as is anywhere else, the Taban tribe are also known for producing priests and priestesses. These specialised cultivators are hand-picked annually by the tribe elder during the Five-Years’ Festival — five because the candidates are selected in their fifth year of life. They then undergo harsh training to be one of the tribe’s few diviners (collective term for priests and priestesses).
Being a diviner comes with a few perks and one of them is that the females can wear maiden braids. Legend has it that it was the hairstyle that the first elder’s wife wore when they first established the tribe and created the cultivation manual for diviners. Out of respect for the first elder’s wife, no woman can wear maiden braids unless they are trained priestesses.
Now, Dawa has requested that her sisters put her hair in maiden braids.
“…Da-da, are you sure you want maiden braids? We know that you’re a priestess but there’s no need to show the people of Li. We…” Gerel glanced at Geriel, “know that the people of Li are not fond of us Huayi.”
“I’m not wearing them for show,” Dawa replied with a hint of pride in her voice. “I want something to remind me of my status as a diviner. I want them to know what kind of cultivator I am.”
The twins looked at each other and gave a knowing look, smirking slightly. “Alright! Maiden braids, it is. Let’s show those pompous people of Li what a beauty our sister is!” and started tugging on Dawa’s hair once more.
Dawa giggled at her sisters’ bold declaration but her eyes were slightly downcast.
They’re hiding their sadness under a veil of feigned arrogance and laughs. We’re family all right…
Dawa actually couldn’t care less if Li had any or even heard of diviners. Deep inside, she wanted the braids to remind her of her life in the steppe.
They would probably force me to wear their clothes and hair…I would be physically and culturally away from what has been home to me for 17 years…
Dawa wouldn’t consider herself a person who is overly sentimental but thinking about being away from home forever brought on the homesickness before she even left for Li.
Stop! Stop! You’re being ridiculous! It’s not like I’ll never see the large plains of Yhur or the rolling desert sand again. Maybe after a year or so. It would be a painful wait but what’s life without a little heartache? As mother always said, people who never face adversity have never truly lived.
Dawa looked up at her sisters. They were chatting away about how she will blow the people away with her beauty, how once they’re done, the Emperor would not recognise her from the portrait sent to him a year ago.
Well, of course, he won’t recognise me! Portraits NEVER portray the fine detail of the face and body. Heavens! Mine made me look like a 40-year-old woman with a receding hairline!
For the next hour or so, Gerel and Geriel worked tirelessly on Dawa’s luscious locks, ensuring that her best features are amplified. After they were done, they started on her makeup. Dawa told them to not apply the white powder on her face because it made her skin dry and painful. However, the twins would not have their darling sister look too dark for the Li court so they settled for a paste made from ground rice and water.
Finally, the girls helped Dawa into her gown that she would be presenting herself in and now she was ready.
“Dawa, the envoy has arrived. The elders are requesting your presence.” Aunt Bora called out from outside the tent.
Her heart started racing. She knew that this was coming but it didn’t stop her from being a little nervous. Doing a few breathing exercises from her priestess training to calm herself, she turned to leave the tent and passed the full-length mirror that was perched near the opening flap.
The reflection that greeted her made her jaw drop in disbelief and awe.
She was wearing a maroon-red robe with slight bell sleeves. Very typical Taban tribe formal wear but it was not wedding attire since she was not getting married. It was the most beautiful piece of clothing Dawa had ever seen — interwoven with Bindweed and Saltwort flowers. Her sisters had done her beauty justice, for the maiden braids framed her face and ears nicely. The makeup she wore emphasised her large, bright eyes; no doubt to guarantee a lot of stares from the Li court. Lastly, her tribal tattoos were painted over with long-lasting ochre, giving a brown-red glow. Dawa was a bit uncertain about the tattoos since she knew that the people of Li didn’t ink their skin but she quite liked the fact that she was showing off something a little more permanent. If they made her throw away her clothes, household members and traditions, at least there will always be something to remind her of who she was and where she came from.
Dawa stood in front of the mirror for a few seconds, silently admitting to herself how beautiful she looks today. Her initial apprehension died down a little.
Ha! If the Li court doesn’t think I’m attractive, then they must be blind! I’ll make such a good impression they’ll drop to the floor in awe.
Head held high, Dawa stepped out of the tent she called home from 17 years to meet the envoy, never to return.