A tale is told among the old souls, of a Queen; the beautiful one who lived among the great creatures of the Indian Ocean.
She graced the land when the moon was high up in the sky. Those who saw her say that her skin glowed like the moon and the trees bowed when she walked past them. It was a soft swoosh of leaves, a swaying of such strong and tall living things. They believed she was not of this world, for no woman could have such grace and beauty at a glance. But how would they know without having laid their eyes upon her? Others say that she was a siren who charmed the young fishermen into jumping off their boats into the deep ocean floor with her. And I ask, how would they know yet no one graced the shores of the ocean at night? However, of all that is said about her, one thing rings true; her crown.
They all say that she wore a crown of sea shells and pearls with one flower at the apex. If I were to start from somewhere, I would start with her crown. Before we proceed, sit down, have some water and listen. This tale is told not because of her beauty or might, but because no one has ever heard it from the lips of an old soul. As word spread about her across the lands, so did fear and evil, but what is evil and what’s there to fear if not a lack of understanding?
Her mother crowned her Neema at birth. The ones who spoke of her beauty and cruelty knew nothing of the turmoil in her heart. They saw what they wanted to see.
It was Jabali who could have set things right, but even he could not withstand the purity she oozed and in denying her, he set upon us a wrath unlike no curse man has ever seen.