Deep within the distant desert sands of a great and mighty kingdom, the cries of many people could be heard from afar. The smoke of the fires grew to a height that could be seen from miles away. Wood crackled and groaned as buildings crashed down on the dwellers of the homes. Countless bodies piled up in the streets as numerous people were clawing at the closed gates that trapped them. Hundreds ran rampant at the shores in a futile attempt to dowse the unnatural flames that engulfed the canoes. There were no escape-the gates will not open, and the boats will turn into ash, soon to be swept away in the current of the river. A young woman stumbled through the chaos, a small bundle cradled in her shaky arms. She leaned her frail body against a sweltering stone wall, still exhausted from her recent childbirth. Her baby let out a small trill against her chest, and she hushed the child while hugging her precious bundle tighter. Grit rained down from the crumbling bricks, and she knew she had very little time before the burning building collapsed on top of her. The woman heaved herself forward; she had to make it to the river no matter what. The gleaming starlit banks were within her sights now.
At last, she reached the shores, and she kneeled down, allowing the tepid waters lap at her knees. Tears began streaming down her flushed cheeks as she nuzzled her baby. She could still smell the mucosa of her womb on the newborn's skin and feel the warm gush of blood trickle between her legs as a result of her grueling delivery. The new mother had only known her newborn for just a few hours, and she knew that this spot at the river would be the place where she would say her first and final goodbye to her child. She had nothing else that she could give except this small chance that her baby may live. She gazed at the dark waters with hope filling her soul. Other civilians were trying to wade into the waters to swim across to the other side in a desperate show of survival. Unfortunately for them, this was no small river; it was several miles across, and another dreadful fate awaited those who dared to try and cross these waters. Crocodiles were such ruthless and carnivorous creatures that lurked in the depth of these waters, but these very same deadly waters would bless her child with life.
The woman gently laid her wriggling baby in her lap as she untied her shawl that she used to sling a covered basket over her back. She placed the wicker basket next to her and ran her petite fingers across it. She spent countless hours weaving this basket out of reeds that grew from the shore in preparation for the birth, hoping that it would serve its purpose as a cradle and as a way to conceal her baby from unwelcome prying eyes. Now it would carry out a far more significant role in her child's life.
She lifted the lid and reached inside and pulled a large bottle of incense out, and stared at it apprehensively. The rukh had warned her months ago that it was absolutely critical that she stole this from her master. The very act of theft over a bottle of incense could have cost her life, but Solomon must have smiled down upon her actions because she was still alive. Why she had to have this bottle of incense? She had no idea why at the time, but now it was clear as day. This was a bottle of Jasmine, very fitting for the situation. Jasmine had the elemental attribution of water and held the meaning of love and beauty. It was perfect for her child, and she felt deep gratitude swell within her heart that she was born with such a gift where she could be so close to the rukh.
The desperate mother used her teeth to uncork the bottle, and her eyes watered from the fumes. Grasping her faded cream-colored shawl, she dumped the incense all over the fabric. With the remaining drops of Jasmine, she rubbed it on her baby's skin as the child let out little squeaks of protest. She smiled painfully and lovingly caressed the babe's face as she dumped the remaining drops of Jasmine incense on her child's swaddling clothes. The crackling of the flames was coming nearer, and time was running out.
The woman pushed her light blue hair out of her eyes as she folded her shawl that reeked of Jasmine and placed it inside the basket while neatly tucking the ends in. She gently raised her precious child and was about to put the babe in the basket when she hesitated. The mother hadn't had a fair chance to study her infant's face until now. Even though the baby's skin was still covered in afterbirth, she could tell that her newborn had inherited her ivory skin. Unfortunately, pale skin was akin to being cursed in this scorching land. But the child had long dark lashes, and the mother could tell her only child had inherited the father's blue eyes. Those beautiful eyes had her mother mesmerized, and she brought her head down to press her parched lips on her child's milky forehead.
"I love you, my child," she whispered. "I pray that you will live a good life and that we may meet again."
The mother gently placed her babe inside the basket and was about to cover the opening with the lid when she remembered something. Her fingers touched her forehead, and she felt the hard red gem of her head chain press against her sweaty skin. She removed it with a sharp tug and curled her fist around it. She closed her eyes as she quietly chanted, bestowing all of her blessings to her only child. She opened her eyes and, ever so lightly, deposited her only inheritance inside the basket as well. Very gently, the lid was placed on top of the weaved reed basket.
Her baby seemed to realize what was going on and didn't make a single peep as she waded out into the water, pushing the river's precious cargo in front of her with blistered hands. Eventually, her feet almost couldn't reach the bottom anymore, and she didn't dare try to go any further. She gripped the floating basket tightly with her hands, hesitating to let the current take her newborn away. She squeezed her eyes shut as she reminded herself that this was the only chance her child had of surviving. By Solomon's name, this child deserved to live! No matter how hard the life her baby will lead, it is still very precious and worth it. Praying that the strong scent of the Jasmine incense would keep the crocodiles at bay, she shoved the basket into the current of the river. She watched the basket drift farther away, and she began to silently weep as it was carried away in the water's arms and out of sight.
"Solomon, protect my daughter for me, please. I pray that she will always be loved and find happiness in her life…"
