"Did it hurt?" I return to Alef's former tent just as Ryu is stripping off his dirty travel robes. On the expanse of his lanky, warm frame, I see more brands, all the size of coins like the flower above his neck. It's a mosaic of upraised bumps in his skin, old burns that blister, brands that start just below his shirt collar to the small crevice of his back. His back is a map of scars, a geography of pain and suffering.
He pulls the robe the rest of the way, reaching for a cleaner, simpler exercise wrap that's a solid red color. Red. It's the favorite color of Aziz the Beloved. Red like flower petals. Red like wine. Red like blood. "If it was anybody else asking that question, Ode, I might be offended." He laughs, tucking the red cloth over his mop of unruly black hair. His new robe is also coarse with a faint mud stain scrubbed using well water. I shudder to think of what Alef wrote into it. "I can't remember if it hurt, pup. I was young. I was scared."
He pulls the robes the rest of the way so that the brands disappear.
"Who made them?" I run a curtain made of the former shreds of my tent down the center of Alef's canvas, pinning it with bone needles and twine. "Who hurt you?"
Ryu smiles, smiling perhaps to hold back the tears. "Every time my father, the Advisor Hakim, visited my mother, well, others got jealous. More specifically, my legal brothers got jealous. They got angry with me. They thought I would forget my place." Ryu shrugs. "My brothers reminded me soon enough, pinning me down. Heating up coins and..."
"When did your brothers stop?" I change out of my own filthy robes, discarding the sweaty purple to the earth. I sift through my belongings and find a simple black wrap. Black, the color of the Blind God, of darkness. I take in a deep breath.
"They stopped when they realized that I had enough of my father in me for my Diviner's powers to manifest. Basically, they needed me to be the bastard sacrifice so they might escape the contests." Ryu's fake smile stays in place as he gestures once more to his back, "I'd argue that it was because my brothers ran out of space."
I pull the curtain back, tucking my hair back into a crown of tight braids. I yank the hem of the black Diviner's robes down to my knees, the exercise cloth embroidered in deep hues of violet. "I look like a bruise." I mutter beneath my breath.
Ryu looks me over with a raised brow. "The colors of the Blind God, eh? Kane's priest must have passed his madness over to you."
I sniff, holding my head in the air as I twirl my Diviner's mirror in my right hand. "Everybody in this camp is switching colors, and it's a sea of red and gold out there. Gold for Cato. Red for the Beloved." I perform a flourishing bow. "I intend to stand out."
"That you will, fox pup." Ryu bundles himself into his bedroll, turning over to sleep, "and gods help anyone that stands in your way."
***
Hello my Champions!
Poor baby Ryu.
Anybody else want to just hug him?
-Sophia