"And I win. Again."
Tanik slaps his last card down. Two crossed swords emblazon the upwards-facing side, which beat the mail armor card I threw down just a second earlier.
I scoff, putting down my own substantially-sized hand. "Yeah, because you're a cheater."
He rolls his eyes at me, already having heard this argument. "No, you're just bad at najrang."
"Am not!" I glare at him, reaching out to collect the cards for another round. "There's no way you keep getting swords in your hand every game, Tanik. The odds of that are, like, one in a million."
He flashes me a cocky smile. "Guess I'm just lucky, then."
"You lying injek-"
The harsh sound of knocking abruptly interrupts our argument. And every insult I have reserved for Tanik dies on my tongue.
I glance at Tanik, the playfulness of the atmosphere draining away instantly. His solemn face is like stone - hard and unyielding, not giving anything away. It's only because I've spent so much time around him that I can see the worry lining his features.
It's late at night, and somebody is knocking on the door of one of the Resistance's safe houses.
The locations of the safe houses are a carefully guarded secret - not even Tanik knows all of them, and he holds a decently high position in the organization. They look like ordinary houses - they actually are regular houses, just repurposed - with nothing to draw any sort of attention to them. And Tanik and I are always careful with our comings and goings.
In other words, there is no reason anybody should be knocking on our door.
Silently, Tanik rises off of the sofa, unsheathing the small dagger that has a permanent home around his waist. Locking eyes with me, he tilts his head towards the kitchen, which is on the left of the front door. An unspoken order.
I move to obey, trying to match Tanik's graceful, soundless strides. Once I reach the kitchen, I force my shaking hands to grab a knife from the knife block. Then, I get into position, out of sight from the front door.
Perhaps it was foolish, but Tanik once offered to train me with such melee weapons, and I declined. I know my way around the basics of knives and daggers - living in Azov, I had to know at least that much - but I'm well aware of how inexperienced I am, especially compared to Tanik and members of the Kaval. But after- after that day, even looking at melee weapons makes me want to throw up sometimes.
Blood blood blood so much it won't stop-
I shake my head violently, trying to swallow down the lump of terror that's lodged itself in my throat. My eyes catch on Tanik, whose hand now ghosts over the door's handle.
Tanik. I try to ground my spiraling mind. Tanik's life could depend on my skill with a knife. I tighten my grip on my makeshift weapon. And he's not going to die. Not now. Not on my watch.
The nightmares won't matter. The memories won't matter. Phirnu, none of it will matter, as long as Tanik isn't added to the list of people I've failed.
Sabira, Ishaq, Yasmin, Esma, Kashif-
Father, Mahina.
With one last glance in my direction, Tanik's hand tugs at the door. There's a creak, and then the door is open.
I hold my breath. There's no pounding boots, but that doesn't mean anything. The Kaval tend to try to keep their raids in highly populated areas quiet, so if they're trying to scope out the house, they might not barge in, guns blazing, just yet.
"Who are you?" Tanik's voice, slightly muffled behind the wood of the door, asks.
To my surprise, it isn't a man's voice that answers. It's a woman's. "People who need your help."
My mind races, trying to process the new information. If this is the Kaval, they've really stepped up their game. I've never heard of them employing women.
"And why do you think I can help you?"
The woman doesn't miss a beat. "Because she's running from the government. And you guys have a lot of practice with that, don't you?"
Claws of horror seize my heart, painfully tight. Tanik sucks in a sharp breath. They know.
"Get in." His voice is stern, but there's an undercurrent of the same fear I'm feeling right now. "Get in, right now."
The sound of shoes hitting wood fills the air as they move to obey.
The first person that appears through the door is a brown-haired woman, with pale skin and steel gray eyes. She's skittish, I note with some relief - Her hands, never far from one another, clutch her faded dress like it's her lifeline. Her eyes anxiously flicker all around the main living area, from the stairs, to the sofa, to the najrang cards still spread across the center table, and a hundred other places in between. Kaval are never skittish.
But the second woman - despite her gender, she looks like a Kaval agent through and through. Physically, her appearance is mostly ordinary - slightly darker brown hair, olive skin, and brilliant blue eyes that remind me of the sea. Even the fact that she's dressed in a dark t-shirt and trousers - men's clothes - and that she's wearing a black cape with an oversized hood over them can be overlooked. But it's the way she holds herself that sets her apart; everything about her radiates confidence. The kind of confidence that only comes from knowing that no matter what you face, you'll always end up on top.
Unlike the first woman, the second woman's eyes land on me almost immediately. There's nothing nervous in her gaze - on the contrary, it's efficient, sweeping me for weapons, presumably.
I guess it's a good thing that my greatest weapon isn't the knife in my hand.
She finishes her assessment quickly, sending me a small nod before turning back to Tanik.
"What do you want?" Tanik gets directly to the point.
The blue-eyed woman arches an eyebrow. "What, no greeting? No offers for lavender tea? I'm almost offended, Tanik."
Tanik stiffens. I tense as well, and even catch the other woman doing the same.
Tanik didn't introduce himself.
"Cut the nonsense." Tanik demands, temper clearly fraying. "We're not here to play games."
Boldly, the woman ignores him, her eyes roaming around the room until they rest on me. "I'm sorry, I only know you as 'Iza'. But that's not your real name, is it?" She flashes me a grin, but somehow, it looks more like a dog baring its teeth. "I guess being an illegal Azovi refugee comes in handy in that aspect, though."
I stumble backwards a little, cursing myself for the weakness, but unable to help myself. She knows. She knows. How does she know?
It's one word. Just one word. But that one word gives this stranger the power to ruin me.
Illegal.
"I'm going to ask you one more time." Tanik steps forward, and it doesn't escape my notice how his body partially blocks the blue-eyed woman's line of sight to me. Mjiva. "What do you want?"
The blue-eyed woman lifts her hands, a gesture of peace, but the movement is mocking. She opens her mouth, probably to shoot back another retort, but the other woman beats her to it.
"As mentioned before, I'm running from the government." She steps forward, taking over the conversation. "She said you could hide me. Can you?"
"And how do we know you're telling the truth?" Tanik shoots back, voice cold. "You two could be Kaval, for all we know."
The blue-eyed woman sighs loudly. "I know who you are. I know where you're operating from. If I wanted to rat you out, don't you think I would have done it already?"
"Not if you were trying to glean more information."
"I'm not here to stay."
"But she is." Tanik points at the other woman.
At this, the other woman takes initiative, taking another step forward and holding her hands out to Tanik. "Tie me up. Lock me in a room. Post a twenty-four hour watch on me, I don't care. Whatever you need to ask to gain my trust, I'll answer. I give you my word." The tone of her voice is startlingly genuine.
"If I trusted people on their word, I'd be dead ten times over by now."
For a moment, all four of us are quiet. It seems like not even the blue-eyed woman has a sharp comeback for that.
It's the gray-eyed woman who breaks the oppressive silence. "I understand. I understand why you're hesitant to take me in. But please," She tilts her chin a bit higher, and the new angle illuminates more of her face. "I'm so tired of running. I don't want to keep running away."
There's something old in her face, something weary. It reminds me of the faces of the community's elders, back in Azov. It reminds me of Father's face, even of Mahina's face, the few years before I lost her. And, although it shouldn't, my heart aches for the girl in front of me.
The first casualty of war is innocence.
And gods, isn't that true? War stole my childhood away. And this war - this Ayeran war fought with undercover agencies and secret resistances rather than guns and swords - has stolen the gray-eyed woman's peace. I'd be willing to bet that war has stolen something from the blue-eyed woman, too - nobody is that confident in the face of a threat unless they've had experience.
Tanik turns away from the woman, no harsh words on his lips. Inexplicably, he looks at me, asking a silent question with his eyes.
I blink twice, giving him my answer.
Tanik heaves a sigh, then twists to face the two strangers once again. Then, he extends a cautious hand to the gray-eyed woman.
"Welcome to our humble abode."
* * * * *
Current word count: 12012
Wow, it has been... a minute.
Let me start by saying that I'm so, so sorry for the lack of updates. I haven't abandoned this story, I promise. I've just been getting my ass kicked by school. AP exams are right around the corner, the intense review period is under way, and my non-AP classes aren't any less rigorous than they always are. On top of that, I'm studying for my Academic Octathlon competition, as well as prepping for a multitude of things in band, such as drum major auditions, regular band auditions, spring camp, spring concert, spring trip-
In short, I've been completely overrun recently. I've had so many days where I've felt like I'm drowning under the weight. So, I hope it's understandable how this story took a backseat.
But I'm here now! Fortunately, I saw that they extended the competition deadline to April 30, 2023, which means more time to reach 20,000 words on this story! I definitely won't be able to finish this novella by the end of the competition, but I'm determined to reach the halfway point, at least.
Anyhow, enough of me venting. I hope that you enjoyed the first interaction between our main trio! Personally, I didn't like this chapter all that much - it feels a bit too messy for me - but maybe that's just me. :/
However, there was one good thing that came out of this chapter - the new words. I'm sure you all deduced that najrang is a card game, but let me clarify the others. Injek is basically Azovi for 'bastard', and mjiva can roughly be translated to 'idiot'. So now I've managed to entertain myself thinking about a very, very mad Rija swearing like a sailor in Azovi. :D
Thank you so, so much for reading! I hope I'll see you again soon. Bye!