27°20'N 15°25'E - Sabha District, Libya
20.05.2024 - 15.30 UTC +02.00
The off-road 4x4 car struggled when we opted to go through the dunes, even though that was exactly its purpose.
“Others got a Calling sister, but not like this” Qadir said. He was obviously worried about the quest I had decided to accept, but still joined in for the ride. He was Cursed like me, a young man able to hear the Nabd. It was a common curse in our tribe – a Curse that passed on from protector to protector of the area, allowing us to hear the blood of our enemies and never be caught off guard.
Mostly, the few Cursed that would be born would then always stay on the family’s land and use our Curse to protect it. In a few rare cases, the Curse would evolve to a Calling.
I smiled at him. “We are not that far baby brother; you can still get off and run back to Sabha, maybe catch a ride to our home”
“And leave you on your own? You’re joking,” he said angrily.
Our driver confirmed directions with the rest of the convoy. We had made the decision not to make a stop – we had enough fuel to reach Waw al Kabir and perhaps stay the night there. Crossing to Chad would be our next problem, but reaching the south was our primary goal for now.
I heard the responses from the rest of the convoy, coming in through the communications and confirming the plan. Our family had enough connections in Fezzan to ramp up proper custody for me during the trip. They provided an ambitious budget to Qadir and I, and a promise of riches and power to our entourage. A Calling was a chance of a lifetime for any family, and my family did not have any such curses in the latest centuries. I was the first, as far as records showed, and that excited our parents. Qadir shared that excitement, although I could feel his worry sometimes.
I was also excited, in a way – but more carefully optimistic. When the Calling overwhelmed me, my whole existence and purpose were aligned with it, and it did not seem like I really had a choice but to obey its direction. This was the way Callings worked for all that bore that Curse. There was a limit to how much excitement I could have, when I was but a vessel.
“Relax,” I answered to him “It will probably be nothing. Remember Munya? Traveled all the way to Tripoli, only to come back later just a bit richer.”
“Well, that would not hurt,” Qadir said. We stayed silent for a while. A Calling to Tripoli was not that hard to fulfill, and there were quite a few mystical stops on the road to Tripoli, mapped by other Cursed to share knowledge. A Calling towards different states of central Africa seemed like a suicide mission.
I had been reading through the journals my mother provided me with in preparation for the trip, books inherited by Cursed generations of the wisest Fezzan scholars. I had learned particularly a lot about the dangers that one could face chasing a Calling. The scariest one was the existence of Maydan, spheres of influence that powerful Cursed could expand around them and force away any Cursed that does not work for them. There was a whole set of politics of the Cursed world, overlapping with the usual people. Cursed leaders able to expand such spheres of influence could eventually shape the fate of whole countries.
I knew for a fact that neither I nor Qadir had such a Curse. As unique as it was, a Calling was not stronger than any Maydan, but it did bear its own plans. If these plans were clashing with the wishes of any other Cursed in my way and I stepped into their Maydan, who knows what could happen. To make matters worse, the plans of my Calling were unclear. I only knew that as I travelled south, it did not compel me to change direction. And as I chased its direction I could only guess what its purpose was.
“Khalida, get out of your head,” my brother said, noticing me visibly worrying “It will be fine. Have some sleep, I will be on the look-out.”
That, I could trust. He might have been young but his sense of Nabd was more than enough to protect us from immediate danger.
“Thank you,” I said and laid my head on his shoulder. He might have been seven years younger than me, and would always be my baby brother, but I was glad I could feel his protection.
I slept like a log. No dreams, no Calling.
“Hey sis, wake up,” my brother said “We got very delayed by the weather, but now we are in Waw al Kabir” I looked outside of the car window. The sun was setting prematurely on a sand hill on our west. But right outside of the window, a small town sprawled between the sand hills.
“We have found rooms in a nearby hostel. We can rest there and buy more fuel tomorrow morning” he explained as he opened the door for me.
I exited trying to push the sleepiness away from my eyelids. I nodded and started following him.
As we walked through the town, some of our entourage drifted towards a tavern near our hostel. It seemed like a good option to calm the nerves.
My brother was just about to ask me – “I am not hungry” I answered him immediately.
“No, we have skipped two meals, you need to eat,” he said but my attention had already waltzed away from him.
I looked dead ahead in the center of the street. “No. There is somewhere I need to go first” I said and started walking.
“Khalida!” he yelled at me and then scoffed in despair. He signed towards two of the men of our caravan, who stood up disgruntled and started following me “Khalida wait for us!”
Honestly, there was no reason not to follow them into the tavern and eat before venturing into the town – but that was not how a Calling worked. It was pushing me already to act, and I had to follow before I would lose its trace. It was beckoning me to walk through the town now.
I could see the inquiring eyes of the people in the streets I passed by, fixating on me. Three men on my trail, all of us strangers, I was sure people were already suspicious just by looking at us.
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I must look like a celebrity with her entourage, I thought, but I had no intention of slowing down. I turned around a shady street.
“Khalida, these streets are empty,” my brother whispered next to my ear “What are we doing here?”
I pointed towards a house with no lights on at the end of the street.
“There is someone there I need to meet,” I said.
“Sister, use your senses. These houses are abandoned.”
“This one is not,” I responded contrary to my senses. Indeed, my sense of Nabd was picking up no pulse, no blood pumping there. But I knew I was right – the Calling could see through whatever was hiding them from other Curses.
As we kept walking towards the house, a small candlelight lit near an open window.
Qadir pulled a small firearm out of his pocket, and the two men following us did the same.
“Khalida, whatever is in there does not have a pulse. Please-”
I turned towards him.
“Listen. This is what you signed up for. If we are to follow my Calling, decisions will not make sense. Your role is not to doubt me, but to escort me.”
“Shit did you hear that” Qadir said. He turned towards the roof of the house next to us. “Look”
Three crows perched on the side of the roof watching us, completely unmoving and still.
I raised my hand and showed I agreed. The two men lowered their weapons, while Qadir hesitated. With just one glance from me at him, he obeyed.
“Stay here. If I don’t return in fifteen minutes, storm the place” I said to them, loudly so that the crows could hear me.
The crows flew away from the nearby roof and towards the candle-lit window of the ominous house. I followed.
“Be careful,” Qadir said.
As I opened the door to the house, I found myself in a dark hallway. I did not need hesitate; I walked directly into a door to the right of the entrance. I walked confidently as if I knew the layout of the house.
“Peculiar,” an old woman sitting in a kitchen said, right as I stepped in, “how could you possibly find me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” I responded examining the room. Stuffed with vases containing spices, herbs, and tea leaves, a fire stove, and a table too big for just one person. The woman looked directly at me, but I looked at her clothes. Covered entirely in robes with weaved symbols I could not recognize, only her eyes and the front of her face were visible. Judging from her looks, she could easily be older than seventy years old.
“I have warded the house with my strongest hexes. No mere witchling like you could be able to sense through that,” she responded. She lifted her arm holding a long cigarette and smoked, puffing a big cloud of herbal aroma into the room.
“I am guided by a Calling, and I am supposed to ask you something,” I stated unsure of what I even meant. She did not react but only smoked a bit more. For a few moments, there was nothing but awkward silence in the room. I found myself twisting my wrists awkwardly.
“Well, I am all ears,” she said eventually.
All that time I was standing in the entrance of the kitchen, as if I was waiting for permission. I moved ahead towards the table and approached a chair. As the woman nodded, I sat across.
“I do not know. I really don’t. The moment I stepped into the room the Calling left me” I admitted. “The stop in this town was not even part of the initial plan. But, as soon as I stepped out of the car, my Calling pushed me. It felt like you would answer my question, so I followed”
“Young one, I have answers to many questions, you need to be specific.”
I felt ashamed and patronized – but rightfully so. I had barged into this presumably powerful Cursed person’s house, and I did not even know why. And maybe, that was the point.
“Why do I not understand my Calling?” I asked her a question I dared not ask not even my mother “I know Callings are supposed to be secret, but I have absolutely no clue where I am even going. Is this how it is supposed to work?”
“So you are lost,” she said standing up. As she rose from her seat, she revealed she was taller than I expected from a woman her age. Her eyes pierced through mine.
“I might have something for you”
She walked towards the drawers of the kitchen behind her, and started looking through a variety of items: from books to cooking utensils, some ugly hand-made talismans, even animal fur. She hurled things around, seemingly knowing exactly what she was looking for.
“What is it?” I asked.
“A map for your journey” she responded cryptically “but it is not for free.”
She turned facing me, holding a paper scrolled in her palms. I looked at her. Who knew what kind of curses she had? There were all kinds of malicious Cursed people out there – how did I know she was not one of them?
“Let me make it easy for you. One of my Curses is Dealings. I can offer you treasures in return for powerful pacts. Your actions will abide by the pact I set until it is fulfilled or I break it.” I had never heard of a Curse like this. Could she be lying?
“This map will show you the routes in Central Africa to avoid the most powerful and treacherous Maydan. Without it, you don’t stand a chance to reach much further than the borders of Chad.”
I stood up. I had no interest in making any Cursed bargains. The risk outweighed any benef-
“What are your terms?” I asked compelled by my Calling. I saw her smiling. This old witch knew how a Calling worked, and she enjoyed toying with me.
“Hm. Here is your question after all – and I have an answer” she approached “Once you fulfill your Calling, you will have to come back here to me, and have a cup of tea.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“And if I don’t?” I asked.
“Then, you die,” she responded coldly “So? Is that a deal?”
No chance. This was simply too random, and binding my fate like this was idiotic.
“Yes, it is a deal” I responded and grabbed the map from her hands, hating with every fiber of my body that I was Cursed by such a careless Calling. I felt my jaw tighten in pain.
“Good. Now please go. Your men will start to worry outside” she said calmly approaching her table again.
My hands were trembling. I had just bound my life to her – for what? What was even the point? To have tea? Why would my Calling force me to accept this?
“Khalida?” my brother yelled the moment I exited the house “I was ready to call the rest of the men. I could not sense you”
I ran to him and hugged him. I could feel his worried breathing. “Let’s go. I have what we need.”