After a year and three days of rest, the voyage began. By now, the six elephants were all too familiar with the endeavor. In their prime, it had taken only 19 days. Now overly ripe and wrinkled, their small eyes shaded by weighty eyelids, they struggled to complete it in 30. The task itself was simple⁠—in type: the pachyderms were to take Queen Izdihar and her original bag across three mountains, five valleys, and seven lakes. After crossing the seventh lake they would find Murad, the most knowledgeable leather worker in all the land East of Bashir. There, Izdihar would have her original bag imbibed with a sacred oil which protected her entire kingdom for a year and three days.

The sacred oil was composed of numerous ingredients. Some, like the red scales of the porpoise found only in the fourth lake of Izdihar’s journey, had to undergo a process of fermentation that lasted 27 years. Others, like the nadir pepper which had overrun the northeastern side of the second mountain, could poison the oil if it wasn’t kept at a specific temperature. The liquid also contained living organisms, like the gyrating blue moss found under volcanic rocks in the fifth valley. Other ingredients in the vial included (but were not limited to): matured tortoise eyes, saffron seeds, a leaf from the highest branch of a dzar tree, purple cardamom, pomegranate mesocarp, sichuan pepper leaves, black watermelon rind, the hearts of two kurklus, pickled white boar’s hoofs, pomegranate seeds, coral tree bark, hair from the underbelly of a lynx, pepper, salt, red soil from the bottom of the sixth lake, baobab oil, half of a castor’s tail, two leaves of gold, three drops of liquid zephyr, and thyme.

The liquid had been steadily added to and perfected for seven generations. Murad came from two distinct lineages: maternal leather workers and paternal gypsies who had married seven generations prior, creating a bond of improbable success. Murad was the physical culmination of his ancestors’ knowledge. He created unthinkable works of leather imbibed with tinctures, potions, and serums which had the power to cure individuals and hypnotize entire kingdoms. Over time, Murad had acquired his unique reputation as the most knowledgeable leatherworker in all the land East of Bashir.

The elephants and their Queen began the journey, as always in impeccable style. Each elephant wore a suzani cloth on their back, dotted with small bells to assure the group would not get separated. Izdihar rode on a different beast’s back each day, remaining in the middle of the line for safety. It was not uncommon for the group to come across a pride of lions at the top of a mountain and to have to fight their way across.

Each chapter of the voyage had its difficulties, but the third mountain was the first real test of strength. It was not made of soil but rather of thin leather scraps, which crumbled beneath the massive feet of the elephants, creating deadly leatherslides if each step wasn’t carefully calculated.

The fourth valley was trying in a different way: the stationary clouds above created a powerful wind, which materialized itself below into millions of leather tassels, endlessly whipping around in the air and wounding the elephants.

The seventh lake was by far the hardest of all. Boiling with indigo, the dark lake’s surface was populated with floating leather bags; eerie reminders of their owners who hadn’t survived the crossing. The pachyderms, who themselves had lost a sister to the boiling indigo three years prior, were to step with the tips of their toes from one small bag to the next until they reached the other side. Though the lake was surrounded by land, there was no chance of survival by circling around, as it was home to families of vicious lions. Through the centuries, the toxic fumes from the indigo water had made them much more aggressive and fearless towards the elephants.

After twenty nine days of exhausting travel, the six pachyderms, Queen Izdihar, and her original bag had made it across the seventh lake to Murad’s leather temple. It was even larger than they remembered: rows of leather domes and small enclaves filled with colorful leathers, rivets, and every tool imaginable led to the back room... A perfect leather sphere, this room was half filled with leather scraps compressed from generations of leather work. There, elevated on the scraps like a divine leatherworker, Murad humbly worked at his table. Queen Izdihar climbed down from her big elephant’s back and walked towards him, closely holding her bag…

Tale written by NINA SPRING

QUEEN IZDIHAR AND HER ORIGINAL BAG