Tall Tales From the Cantina: An Anthology

Five Years Ago

There were things about Sheelal that had always drawn her to him, though outwardly she flaunted his attempts to woo her. Though he was famous, he was still incredibly young in mind. He felt so deeply and strongly that sometimes she worried what would happen should those emotions turn against him one day (such as, should he lose her, she often thought).

But these emotions also allowed him to be the person she'd come to regard as her closest comrade: a kind boy who could understand in an instant if she was upset, even if she could not grasp it herself. A boy whose smile was shy and smart and confident all at once. Someone who had been forming battle plans from the age of fifteen, becoming a khan the same year, and taking up his calling to lead his people to victory against the vile invaders who wished to turn them into their slaves. The invaders whom she'd joined him to obliterate - the Yam'rii.

And yet, she mused to herself, he had taken almost three years to master basic Lig training. She would say what she would about his kindness and intelligence, but he was a dolt in the realm of hand-to-hand combat. Perhaps, one day, he would understand the art of wielding multiple blades. Perhaps so.

She had been aware of her infatuation for him for a fair amount of time. It was something she allowed herself to get drunk on when she was alone, those feelings for him, sweeter than incense and warmer than summer rain. Sometimes she wondered if she had something wrong with her, from how much she secretly longed for him to tell her he felt the same way, how often she'd dreamed of kissing him.

She was well aware that he himself had had a fancy for her from the very start, but she hadn't found herself returning it till....when? She wasn't sure - it had been at least three years. It was an improper time, but even now, five years prior to becoming an adult, she already wanted to marry him. They were both afraid, she knew, although neither of them knew what to do about it.

She shouldn't have been afraid, for she did not suffer under his wrath as the Yam'rii did. But the very thing that Sheelal was - intelligent, handsome, innocent - drove her into a silly frenzy that she had to beat down whenever he was around. In spite of this, she kept her feelings hidden, tucked away along with her other secrets.

There was still the warm memory of his hugs, the meals they shared at his house, and all the battles they'd fought together over the years. The little things, such as bonfire dances with his hands on her shoulders and waist, listening to his deepening, strong voice sing about the history and adventures of their people. The way his focused eyes gazed out over the horizon to focus on his next kill, and his patience with her as he tried to tame her hyperactive mind to the feel of an Outlands rifle.

It didn't help that she inadvertently found his sense of drama to be adorable.

The war drums banged in the distance, signaling a shift in watchmen. She let out a long sigh and stood. Soon, another soldier would take her post for the day shift, so she could afford to leave early and find her friend in the Kunbal clearing, where they would train together.

She reached the clearing where they had met a few moments later, sat down with her swords crossed over her knees, and inhaled the smells of rain, smoke, and soil. Everything natural brought deadly power to her bones. Rain poured down, plastering her curtain of ebony-and-chestnut hair about her neck, and her muscular arms performed the ritual stretches necessary for avoiding injury.

The stomping of leather boots echoed through the clearance - a few meters off, Kummar assumed. She doubted he would ever learn stealth, for desire to show off was in his blood. Nonetheless, she played along, closing her eyes and stamping down the fluttering anticipation in her gut.