literature

Brave Rhaan: A Desert Ghoul Folk Tale

Deviation Actions

Leonca's avatar
By
Published:
1K Views

Literature Text

In the same year Rhaan’s parents gave her life the desert gave death in the form of drought. Prey dwindled until they were forced to search the farthest corners of their territory to find enough to eat. They promised her that someday there would be more than beetles and scrawny lizards.

Rhaan grew to be a well-mannered little female. Her parents brought travelers home and sent her to the storage chamber for a mouthful of their meager cache. She gave it to the strangers quietly, holding back the urge to jump on them and beg for a game of chase. She listened to them describe the lands they left in search of a territory of their own. Before they left each young adult bowed his or her head and blessed her parents for their generosity.

Many nights Rhaan’s parents were forced to leave her alone so they could split up and cover more ground. She waited, bored but patient, and dreamed of excitement.

It was on one of these nights that the wanderer came. He was not like the young travelers, searching for an empty spot to raise a family. He had passed through many lands, and thought none worthy of his claim. For years he wandered, going where he pleased and taking what he liked. The scent of an unguarded den drew him in with a rumbling belly.

Poking his nose in he could tell the residents had a small supply of food, but also something more interesting. He tasted Rhaan’s youth in her scent. This was the first time he had ever raided a den with a child left at home. He hesitated.

Will she try to bite with those wicked sharp teeth little ones have? he wondered. A good blow to the head should take care of any thoughts of mischief.

Mind made up, he still lingered at the entrance. He didn’t relish the thought of trying to find the child in the dark, cramped space. A bite hurts, no matter how small the mouth that gives it.

The wanderer went a few steps away and collapsed on the ground. He moaned as if something in his gut were ready to burst. He tossed his head and clawed the earth.

Rhaan was distressed to hear the pitiful sounds outside. Even though her parents told her to stay in the den, surely they would want this traveler to get help as soon as possible. She called to him. No answer.

Rhaan poked her head out and saw him curled up, still as death. She ran to him and peered at his face, searching for signs of life.

The wanderer pounced. He pinned her to the ground, one hand pressing her head in the dirt, and the other over her back.

Rhaan thrashed and squealed with terror.

The wanderer’s eyes widened. He grinned and applied more pressure to her back, squeezing the breath from her lungs. “I didn’t realize you would be so… soft,” he said. “What lovely, tender flesh you must have.”

He dug his claws into her, grinning wider with each new whimper she made.

Rhaan thought of the lizards her parents brought back for her to practice hunting. She played with them until their tails fell off and they were too tired to run. When speed failed them they weren’t clever enough to escape. She didn’t want to die like a lizard.

Rhaan breathed deep and focused on the soothing memory of falling asleep in her mother’s arms. “Please, a thousand blessings to you if I could see my parents one last time,” she said.

The wanderer laughed. “What does it matter what happens to you if you are about to die?” he said.

“I’ll never find them in the next life,” she said. “I want to say goodbye. Only, you must promise not to hurt them. They’re almost starved to death. They barely had the strength to go hunting tonight.”

The wanderer licked his lips. Now that he had opened himself to the idea, he felt it only natural to apply it in the fullest way possible. He tore Rhaan’s shirt in strips and tied her up. “Yes, all right,” he said, patting her on the head. “You can see them one more time.”

He left her in the open as bait and crouched behind some rocks.

Rhaan’s parents met on the way home. The wind brought them the mixed scents of the wanderer and their daughter. He leapt out to surprise them and they hit him with the ferocity of lions. They shook his mangled body until their fear and rage was drained, and then they went to comfort Rhaan.

After a lifetime of selfish ways the wanderer’s final act brought unexpected joy. With no family to put him to rest, Rhaan’s parents claimed his body. They taught her the wisdom of making a large meal last and spent the nights they did not hunt playing together.

Brave Rhaan: A Desert Ghoul folk Tale as Recorded from Oral Form by T. P. Hade of the Nonhuman Cultural Illumination Project

 

Word count- 823

 

Taak: Bug Slayer by Leonca None Sweeter Than You by Leonca The Were-wolf and the Ghul by Leonca The Shaper's GiftDetective Travis Hade looked down at street vendor Skavie. The troll met his eyes and lashed the tufted tip of her tail. Fragrant smoke rose from dark meat kebabs laid on metal racks over a small fire. The spices smelled lovingly balanced, but not too strong to overwhelm a hint of gaminess from the meat.
“What is this?” Travis said.
Skavie grinned and waved a stubby-fingered hand over her wares. “Chicken.”
Travis crossed his arms and glared over the rims of his glasses. “And what do you tell your troll customers?”
Eye contact was very important to this race. Travis willed his expression to freeze, unblinking, like the carved image of a stern god.
Skavie folded her pointed ears against her bald head. “I knows the rules. ‘If it don’t gotsa collar, make it give you a dollar.’ I didn’t steal from no one.”
“That works for troll restaurants, but a cart on Shab Street is another matter. Any establishment accessible
Damaged Ghouls - Zaem by Leonca The Ghul QueenExcerpt from the Journal of John Smidley: Collected by T. P. Hade of the Nonhuman Cultural Illumination Project
Shasiek territory, Saaraiah Desert, 9/24/621 AK
Today I met a ghul. The foul thing urinated on my personal tent and vomited in the mess tent. I hesitate to call any day in Saaraiah normal, but this departed further than usual.
Perhaps I should not think too ill of the beast. He could hardly be expected to understand civilized behavior. His master has no such excuse. A Queen shouldn’t belch in front of guests.
Al-Keffan was elated to see his negotiations with the Shasiek come through. He had us rearrange our tents in a pattern which would communicate our status at a glance to their Queen. It felt a silly waste of time given that he could only convince her highness to visit and dine for a few hours.  Barson gave one of his dry little laughs when he saw my tent beside his. The oaf remains ungrateful for Father’s contributions to his merry expeditio

© 2015 - 2024 Leonca
Comments9
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Faraleigh's avatar
Other than the synopses and quotes from your theWrittenRevolution feature, this is the first piece of yours that I've read. I'm hesitant to say whether it's a good introduction, because based on another comment here, your replication of traditional folktale flow suggests this is a departure from your usual style. Regardless, you have my attention. Your writing is deliciously clean and clear. You have a very interesting approach to an idea I don't fully grasp (but I'm intrigued enough to try finding out more on the subject of ghouls). You embraced some concepts that I think others might shy from (death/hunting/"torture" of supposedly sentient creatures), and I really appreciate that. I also like the omniscient 3rd POV. That's really the folksy icing on the cake for me, I think.

There was one thing I was a little iffy about, and I'm not sure if it's just a result of the POV before I really realized how it was being done. "This was the first time he had ever raided a den with a child left at home. He hesitated." One, (and maybe I'm making an assumption with terminology) he never raids the den. Two, his hesitation suggests he was considering it but maybe wasn't sure about it, yet it's stated as a fact in the first sentence. Maybe I'm just overthinking that bit, but I thought I'd point it out for your consideration. :)

How long did it take you to write this? Have you had much experience in reading/writing folktales? How much revision/editing went into this? Just curious!