"Fahima's Special Day"
by Mayetra & Beryll
Cold.
The thought permeates my sleepy mind and pushes me more fully toward wakefulness. Blinking awake, I yawn and realize the source of my discomfort. During the morning hours, I have migrated toward my master. Uncurling myself from his side, I sit up and stretch. The afternoon has done little to warm the cool air and I wrap my blanket more tightly around me.
While I try to warm up, I take a moment to study my master. He has slept on, despite my shifting and rustling. It always amazes me how he can sleep so soundly, yet at the smallest hint that I am distressed, he is instantly awake. His hair curls down over his chest like inky black tendrils of shadows. Rubbing the silky strands between my fingers, my mind drifts pleasantly from one meaningless thought to the next.
Suddenly, it dawns on me that today is my birthday. Not my real birthday, because no one knows when that is, but the day that my master has given me for my very own. Today, I will no longer be ten but for the next year, I will be eleven.
I wonder if I look different now that I am older. Dropping my master’s hair, I pull his heavy robe from the end of the bed and wrap it around myself. It smells like sandalwood, lemon and the distinct earthy smell that is uniquely my master’s. After rolling up the long sleeves of the robe, I carefully light an oil lamp and carry it over to a tall mirror hanging on the wall. After setting the lamp on the floor, I study myself. To my disappointment, I look no different. My appearance has not changed. My dark eyes are still overlarge for my face. My thin frame has not changed much and I am still what Crya would call ‘delicate’. I don’t seem to have grown any taller either. I look rather comical standing in my nightdress with my master’s dark robe draping my body and pooling in a dark puddle around my feet.
My disappointment is short lived as I think of the wonderful surprise my master has surely planned for my special day. I know he is up to something because he and Salim were shut away in master’s study last eve. I tried to hear what they were saying outside the closed door but my master knew I was there, because before I could hear anything good they grew silent. My master had then opened the door and ordered me to bed.
Shrugging off my master’s robe, I quickly dress in a dark tunic and trousers before tugging on the boots he had made for me. My stomach grumbles noisily reminding me that while I might be warm, I am definitely hungry. Tossing my master’s robe back onto the bed, I douse the lamp, and leave the room.
*~*
Breakfast was a disappointment. It seems that everyone has forgotten today is my birthday. Salim greeted me as if this day was no different then any other, despite my hints to the contrary. Crya was bossier than normal. I didn’t bother giving her any hints because she told me quite bluntly that she didn’t have time for any foolishness from me today. She hurriedly brushed my hair and then banished me from the villa with orders to stay out from under foot. When I asked her why, she simply snapped at me that our master’s business was none of mine.
At least Flower was happy to see me. My trusty steed brayed happily when I entered the stables. After feeding him, we set out into the wild property behind the villa, Salim trailing in our wake. We wander out to our favorite spot next to the creek but I don’t feel much like having an adventure today. Flower seems to understand and contents himself with chewing the bits of grass growing next to the stream.
I try again to remind Salim of the fact that today I am a year old.
“Salim?”
“Yes, little miss?”
“Do I look different to you?” I know that I didn’t notice any changes but perhaps I missed something.
Salim studies me for a moment. “No, little miss. You look the same today as you did yesterday.”
I try a different approach.
“Salim, did you forget something today?”
Salim frowns and I can see that he is thinking. I just know that he will remember now.
“No, I don’t think I have forgotten anything.”
I am beginning to grow impatient. “But you and Master talked about it just last evening!”
Salim smiles. “I have forgotten nothing of my conversation with our master. He instructed me to keep you away from the villa today and not disturb the servants. They have a lot of work to do for him and don’t need to be bothered by you.”
“So, there is something planned for today.” I cannot keep the triumph out of my voice. “What is it Salim?”
Salim sighs. “Nothing to concern yourself with, little miss. Master will tell you if he wants you to know but as it is his business, I doubt he will.”
Frowning, it occurs to me that perhaps my master has also forgotten that today is my birthday. I have heard that the memory of old people is often faulty. My master is probably the oldest person ever so it would seem natural that his memory would be failing. He always seemed to be rather sharp but it is not surprising. While I am disappointed that he has forgotten about me this day, the benefits of his faulty memory have not escaped me.
In fact, the worse his memory gets, the more fun I will be able to have. I content myself with visions of telling my master we have already finished our lessons when in truth, we have barely begun them. The most satisfying daydream is the one where my master has forgotten that he has repeatedly said no to my requests for a kitten. I busy myself with trying to decide what color kitten I shall get when I realize it doesn’t matter. After all, once I have one kitten it will not take long for my aged master to forget and allow me to have another one.
The sun dips lower and lower painting the sky in rich pinks and oranges before fading into dark purples. It is a beautiful display, which signals the end of my playtime. I can’t seem to motivate myself to return to the villa and my lessons. It is odd that Salim has not herded me back yet. I suppose that my master has well and truly forgotten. This means that the preparations at the villa are probably for some guest of my master’s. Not Uncle Moragus, but someone boring and the cause of me being sent promptly to my master’s chambers after supper.
Finally, Salim gets to his feet, his deep, warm voice breaking through my musings and letting me know it is time to return. With a heavy heart, I follow him back to the villa, my faithful Flower right beside me.
When we get back, I am shocked when Salim herds us both into the villa.
“Salim! Crya will have a fit if she sees Flower in the house!”
Salim only smiles broadly, his white teeth brilliant against his ebony skin. “Not tonight, little miss.”
Before I can argue with him, we are ushered into the Great Hall. This room is long and wide with a tall vaulted ceiling. It is rarely used, as my master does not host great parties. To my surprise, it is festooned with brightly colored ribbons. The small dais at the opposite end of the room is covered with large, soft pillows.
“Go and sit, Fahima.”
The next few hours are wonderful but pass much too quickly for my liking. All the servants including Salim and Crya join in the celebration. Even Flower is allowed to settle beside me and is presented with a garland of flowers. But the celebration finally comes to an end and Crya ushers me off to bathe. Salim takes Flower back out to the stables for me.
I don’t put up too much of a fight over my bath because I am too excited from the party. After changing into an old nightdress, Crya quickly brushes my hair before sending me off to my master’s chambers and bed.
The room is dark, except for the moonlight shining in through the open garden doors. In the garden, I can see the soft glow of a lantern. I glance at the bed, not feeling tired. My master was absent from the party and I missed him.
“Master?” I call softly, hoping that he is in the garden.
“Come here, Fahima.”
Moving to the open garden doors, the scent of night blooming floors surrounds me and I see him sitting on a bench near the lantern. Scampering out, I settle on the bench next to my master.
“Master, you missed the party.”
“Did you have a nice birthday, Fahima?” he asks, smiling down at me.
I love his smiles because they are so rare. I can barely contain my excitement and joy. “Oh yes, Master! Except that you weren’t there to share it with me,” I add so he doesn’t think I don’t care about him. I can barely catch my breath as I tell him about it. I describe the room decorations, after which, I recount the performances from the magician, the jugglers, tumblers, and dancers.
My master listens very attentively with his eyes closed. I know that he is picturing the events of the party so I take care to describe the performers' costumes and movements. I finish with a yawn that escapes my best efforts to stop it.
“I wish you had been there, Master. I missed you.”
I cannot keep the pout from my lips even though I know it is very unladylike.
“I am glad that you missed me, but I feel like I was there now that you have told me all about it.”
I can tell that my master means what he says and that he is in a good mood. I know that he will allow me to crawl into his lap and I do just that. I like these moments when he indulges my need for hugs and cuddles. My master can be very reserved most of the time.
“I thought everyone forgot,” I confess my main worry of the day as I settle myself on his lap, my cheek resting against his chest. His scent makes me feel warm and safe. I sigh in contentment.
My master strokes my hair, making me feel a bit sleepy. I gaze up at him with my most adoring look. It is my birthday and my master seems to be in an exceptionally indulgent mood. Perhaps he will grant my fondest wish.
“Can I have a kitten?”
He gives me another smile before answering, “No.”
My face falls into another pout, but it is short-lived at my master’s next words.
“But, I have another present for you.”
He reaches over and presents me with a small box. “It is something very, very special, something for you to treasure and keep forever.”
I quickly unwrap the cloth-covered box and open it to find a journal. The book is beautiful, bound in red velvet and filled with thin paper. My master must be very pleased with me to buy such an expensive gift.
“Oh, Master! It's perfect! I can write about my adventures
in here!” I lift the journal from the box and open it, feeling the smooth,
empty pages with my fingers.
“Fahima, this is for you to remember what you have now and if you allow
it, it is also for me, to share your life when I cannot be with you, like
the party today.”
I carefully return my precious gift to its box. Setting the box aside, I broach a subject that had disturbed me earlier that day. What if the birthday my master has given me doesn’t count toward me growing up.
“Master, I don't look different. I checked in the mirror this morning, but nothing had changed. What if I don't grow up?”
“But you have grown up. It just doesn't happen all in one day. Stand up straight for a moment.”
He motions for me to stand and I slide from his lap. He crouches down next to me. Holding his hand next to my ankle, he says, “See, the hem of your nightdress doesn't reach your ankles anymore. When you got it, you kept tripping over it.”
Looking down, I see the truth of his words. Feeling somewhat foolish, I ask, “So birthdays do make us grow?”
“No, birthdays are just like the marks on a time candle, the candle keeps dwindling all the time but when the mark is reached you know an hour has passed.”
He sits back down on the bench and I return to my spot on his lap.
“Master, are you very old?”
“Yes.”
“Do you keep outgrowing your clothes as well?” I ask, determined to have the mysteries of growing up solved.
“I don't grow anymore. At some point your body stops and only your mind continues to grow.”
His mind. I remember my earlier musing about the state of his memory and the possibilities of skipping lessons and finally getting a kitten.
“Master, will you get forgetful and talk to yourself like the old people in the market?” I probably shouldn’t have sounded slightly hopeful but I can’t help it.
“I’m afraid not.”
I sigh in disappointment. I will not be getting a kitten any time soon. Still, I can’t help asking, “Can you try to be a little bit forgetful? Not much, just enough to forget that you said I can't have a kitten.”
There is amusement in my master’s voice as he answers. “No.”
I am starting to feel tired and a bit cranky. It would seem that I am foiled at every turn.
“I ask so little of you,” I grumble. “What about a sword? Salim keeps throwing away my sticks.”
My master shifts me so that I am resting in the crock of his arm, my own arms thrown around his neck. Standing, he carries me toward the bedchamber. “What would you need me for if you had a sword of your own?”
What a silly question to ask me! As if I would even be able to live without my master! As we cross the wide threshold into the room, I cannot help but yawn widely.
“I'll need you to tuck me in and make me do my lessons, even though I hate it!” I yawn again. “And who else would I love if I didn't have you.”
My master gently places me on the bed, pulling the warm coverlet up and tucking it in around me.
“Thank you,” he says before placing a soft kiss upon my forehead.
My heart leaps. Kisses are even more rare than smiles, hugs, and cuddles. It has truly been a great birthday!
My voice is slurred with sleepiness and my eyes are drooping as I ask, “Does this mean I can have a sword?”
“Sleep now, Fahima.” My master commands as he begins to gently stroke my hair.
I am already drifting into the arms of sleep.
~End~
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