The War of Queens

Chapter 69

Aryavan

 To the rest of the world, the sun had only just begun its descent, but within the thick forests that Aryavan called home, it was already dark. When he crawled the rope to the jakeen’s house, it was not with the help of his eyes but with the help of his memory.

 Inside, the entire tribe, except for a rare few who were either too old or too young, sat together around the fire. Some sat together in silence, while others spoke in hushed voices. The room was already warm and full of smoke, so many of them had lain down while waiting for the jakeen to arrive.

 He sat down beside Faraji and Imani. He noticed that beside them, an unknown man sat. He stood out from the rest; while most men of the Yaguar tribes shaved themselves bald, or at least kept their hair short, this man had a thick mane of matted coils of hair.

 Imani noticed his look and smiled. “Aryavan, this is Emeka. He is the brother of the new jakeen.”

 Aryavan regarded him with interest. He noticed that his skin was a bit lighter, too, and his eyes held a golden glint. “You are not from here,” he stated.

 Emeka shook his head. “My clan lives to the east. We derive from Oshi, the great traveler from the legends.”

 “Ah,” Aryavan said, remembering. “He was a possible future Kahari. As far as I remember, so was his younger sister. He left so that she could become Kahari and traveled as far as to the ocean to the east, if I recall correctly?”

 “And then some,” Emeka agreed.

 Aryavan was fascinated with the way he spoke. His tongue was lighter, his sounds less guttural. There was music in his voice.

 “I am glad to see you returned,” Aryavan said.

 “I would be happier myself, if it wasn’t for this dreadful heat,” Emeka replied, but then the conjugation fell silent and his attention shifted.

 The new jakeen - Aryavan supposed, since she was the only face besides Emeka’s that he did not recognize - stepped out from the shadows. She was beautiful. Her skin was a little lighter, just like Emeka’s, but it seemed to burn along with the flames. Like her brother, her hair was made into thick, messy coils. Her eyes had a reddish brown hue that gleamed like bronze when she began her incantations.

 The smoke that had filled his lungs since he entered made Aryavan’s head feel lighter. His eyes strayed back to the brother. To his surprise, he found Emeka’s eyes staring back at him. They had turned bronze, too, and golden around the edges.

 “Our path,” the jakeen’s hissed, “has been blood-filled, but blood is yet to be shed. Smoke has blinded us, but our eyes yet do not see. Cold winds have blown over us, but the storm is not over. The fire has only started.”

 Asha appeared beside him, leaning towards him. “She’s referring to an old prophecy, from before your birth,” she whispered in his ear.

 “We have won our freedom, we have won our greatness, and the northerners speak of peace, but there cannot be,” she continued. “I see… I see..” Her eyes shot to Aryavan. “I see something in the blindness. A light that came from darkness, a fire that came from ice.”

 She blinked, as though she had lost track. She looked about, as if trying to find it again. Then she sucked in a sudden breath, her eyes fell closed as though something had entered her with that breath and her head fell back.

 Slowly, she sat up straight once more and stared at Asha. “Save your tears for the living,” she whispered. Her voice seemed different - like a foreigner’s. “They are the truly brave, the truly doomed.”