Noticed, the young lord made no secret of hiding his interest. He began walking over in a weaving gait, a look that was one part curious and two parts alarming on his face. He looked the pair up and down. "Well," he observed, swaying slightly, and there was a hint of distaste in his bearing, though it was outdone by an air of being impressed. "Actual ladies." He nodded as he spoke. "Real Virangish ones without the little piggy noses." He snorted. "Şirmerd, by the way." He removed his cap with a flourish that seemed, somehow... mocking, and yet not. "I've no idea why Lady Loladel didn't send you straight to the estate." He craned his neck up the hill for a moment and, with a shrug turned back.
Meanwhile, Manalo did not look happy, and he was stalking towards the group. "What are you doing here?" Laya murmured at Zarina and Emel as she brushed past. Her target seemed to be her uncle. Şirmerd's eyes and those of the tall man who Zarina might've guessed was Tevhid followed her, though the former's flicked back towards the two new women.
“Enchanted.” spoke a not-so-impressed and mildly sarcastic Zarina upon taking in his radiance's back-handed greeting. “Zarina Al-Nader. And this is Lady Emel. It truly is an honour to be in you and your wife's presence.” she smiled at the dull man.
Laya then came with her inquiry and was met with a nonchalant shrug. “I wanted to go for a walk, and found my friend.” her hand canted to the side Emel was at. “I was curious, too.” she added with a murmur that matched the educated local's.
Her attention returned to the heirs apparent. “Best of luck on your business endeavours. We hope Marawan may prosper ever more.” she smiled again like she would have with a Zenobucks customer. Her gaze shifted to Laya and Manalo, where her interest lied more.
Şirmerd seemed flabbergasted. "Y-you don't work for..." He trailed off. Perhaps his mistake had dawned on him. Lady Emel worked to cover a wicked smile and was largely successful.
The woman on the other horse, however, narrowed her eyes. "I am lord Şirmerd's sister, İnşirah." Her eyes flicked to Emel, who curtsied immediately, with great deference. 'But you already knew that,' they seemed to say. "Any concerns you have that you do not wish to trouble him with, you may bring to me and I shall attempt to address them in good faith." Those large dark eyes of hers - like pools of oil - studied Emel and Zarina, flicking over to the approaching Manalo.
Şirmerd shrugged, casting a look his sister's way. "Ah, well, looks like you wanna keep living this way," he snorted. "You'll be cooking under leaves and eating grubs next." He waved them off dismissively. "Bother her when you inevitably come crying to me for help."
The portly local man, who must've been Malaki, scowled deeply at that, and he, İnşirah, and the tall Virangishman exchanged glances. The latter finally found his voice.
The tall man, meanwhile, finally found his voice. "If I may, my lord, there is -"
"You may not, Tepid."
The tall man stiffened and bowed his head in apology.
"He only means to remind us that we have dinner waiting, brother," came İnşirah's smooth voice. Şirmerd glared Manalo's way, turned on the spot, and mounted his horse in a single smooth motion, as if it was a profoundly natural thing he had been doing his entire life. "Yes, yes. I know. I'm just playing around with your betrothed, sister." He sniffed. "Now, let's see some of those local delicacies..." He settled himself and furrowed his brow, having forgotten Malaki's name. "Malady's so eager -"
"It is Malaki," interrupted Laya, with a stiff bow of her head. "That is my father's name." Malaki's eyes widened, but he glanced from her to Şirmerd and nodded, as if in confirmation. the tall Virangishman with the glasses - Tevhid - nodded as well. "Oh," replied the would-be agha of Marawan, "so it is."
"I know it is not so easy for visitors from afar to remember," Malaki said quickly, gently motioning the party onward and beginning to move, himself. "Now, warm food is often better than cold, no?"
İnşirah nodded and bowed her head in thanks. She spurred her horse on and began moving. Şirmerd was about to do the same, when another voice cut in. "It is a very easy name to remember," said Manalo, his brother interposed between him and the mounted Virangish pair. "And to pronounce."
Şirmerd wheeled his horse about and regarded the new arrival with an equal mixture of surprise and contempt. Manalo had a pack full of fishing supplies and a machete strapped to his belt. "You stand on my land and insult my brother. Apologize and get off it," he demanded, in broken Virangish.
There were things that Zarina remembered from this interaction of which she made herself a discreet audience.
The first was that the sister, not the wife, was the one with her head between her shoulders. She had earned a proper nod from Zarina, although she did not feel right giving curtsy in her current get-up.
The second was that the Agha-to-be was an oaf. Potentially of the vicious kind. The mean-spirited pronunciation of names, of which Zazzy had tto shamefully stifle chuckles for, were clearly purposeful. The first was fair game, given it was his own flock, the second ...
The third was that one of these relevant people of the village wasn't going to take shit anymore. Zarina's amber gaze was transfixed on the man who talked back to the master. She swallowed and cast a quick glance toward Emel before leaning slightly into her.
“I'm plushtailed.” she whispered. “If things get messy, I'm going to need a little help.” she said just before taking a step forward and tentatively stepping into the conflict, though she withheld any words for now.
"They're not really gonna fight!" Emel whispered back urgently, :Are they?"
There was no way of knowing the future, however. Agha Şirmerd steadied his horse and, for a moment, regarded this local pest with the utmost contempt. Then, perhaps emboldened by Zarina's gesture and an urgent look from İnşirah, the company man - Tevhid - stepped neutrally into the middle. Malaki grimaced and did the same.
"I say again: this my land," Manalo repeated, and there was the sense of him drawing. In response, Şirmerd drew, and it was a mighty draw. Nominally, Zarina's capacity was probably similar to his, but she was nowhere close to her best and it hit her like a sledgehammer. Emel stumbled and feel backwards. Malaki staggered under its energetic weight and was caught and held up by his daughter. Tevhid sputtered and clutched at his temples, wobbling. İnşirah grimaced and looked distinctly uncomfortable. Manalo was brought nearly to one knee, but sheer stubborn pride kept him on his feet where his brother would've faltered but for Laya.
Instinct made Zarina immediately look toward Makisig when the pressure brought her to her knees. No big RAS for her, in fact she hardly had any in her state with only buried yet ever present bestial tenacity keeping her from fully faltering. The boy was, overall, fine given he had been told to stay back. Her next welfare check was on Emel and the nearby goat. Yet, even the simple minded mattered.
Cunts everywhere I go. Shune-fucking-horseshit. Both of Zarina's palms hit the dirt for added stability. The position really put strain on that wound, which would bleed through her sleeve in not too long. She looked up and found Laya. There was no speaking to be done, due to both the asphyxiating presence Şirmerd had, but also to avoid added fuel to this pyre she felt incompetent in handling. She noticed that the educated local had not been brought to her knees. The Virangish's look urged Laya to do something before this rapidly inflating balloon popped right into their faces. Gods, it sucked to be this powerless.
Laya seemed to have had enough. She left her father the moment he was steady and went to Manalo. "This my land. No your land!" the Palaparese rasped, face red and breath ragged. She placed a hand on his chest and leaned into him. "Pakiusap, tito, huwag," she whispered pleadingly. "Kakayanin ko. Pakiusap."
Manalo breathed heavily, his veins bulging, leaning forward onto her hand and Laya began to falter. Her eyes flicked to her father's, Tevhid's, and İnşirah's. Then, all at once, Şirmerd snorted and straightened. He turned his horse about. "For now," he belatedly addressed the local firebrand's bold assertion over his shoulder, "but most people are smarter than you, thankfully."
Tevhid glanced between the two parties, relieved and pained in equal measure. İnşirah rolled her eyes, but shot a little nod of thanks Laya's way. Malaki followed suit, flashed his daughter a tight smile, and hustled after the Agha. Makisig came running up moments later. "Tatay!" he called. "Tatay, okay ka lang?" Manalo now stood at his full height, ripples of long black hair cascading down his back, tattoos earned in his youth covering his deeply tanned skin. He breathed steadily and glared after Şirmerd and his party. Was there a hint of a smirk? For just a split second?
Once the pressure relented, Zarina released all the air she had been storing in her lungs in a single, loud exhale. Her face was red but she was left without a scratch. “What a dick.” she said openly in the middle of her ascension back to her feet when the horseback party was far enough out of range. “Guys like that, we make fun of them back home.” with a quick arching of her back, a singular pop confirmed a successful stretch.
Zarina joined Laya and her uncle with Maki also joining the fold. She kept some distance, of course, but was keen on involving herself. “So,” she opened up with hands on her hips and hair disheveled. “it's looking like not everyone's on the same page regarding a deal.” the tall Virangish girl up-nodded the educated girl in particular. “You seem to know your stuff, what's your take on this, now that you don't need to arbitrate tempers.”
"Laya." Her uncle addressed her before she could reply to Zarina, his eyes darting with wariness but not hostility in her direction. "Sino itong dayuhang babae na nagbibihis tulad namin at nakikipag-usap sa iyo bilang isang kaibigan?"
Laya nodded at him and then turned to Zarina and, by extension, Emel. "He asks who you are and why you dress like us and speak like a priend."
"I understand you," Manalo added. He pointed emphatically in the direction the Agha and his part had left in. "He is bad man. We no freedom ip we..." he struggled for his next word and trailed off, waving it away in frustration.
“I like to cozy up to people who go out of their way to help me.” a confident grin, teetering close to overconfidence, reigned on Zarina's expression as she shrugged. “I'm Zarina, by the way.” she looked Manalo in the eye, her expression staying the same with her eyes partially lidded. “It's nice to meet you, Laya's uncle, Manalo. And I dress like this because I've nothing else to wear.”
The manaless teen looked back to the group of riders now further away. “He's definitely a case. Bad? I dunno. He seems more stupid than evil. That said-” she eyed both adults after shooting Maki a wink if he ever decided to integrate himself. “I'm not very familiar with the situation. At all. But I so happen to have worked with the company for a while, and have my own business.” her gestures were open and free flowing, body language relaxed unless her shoulder was too engaged, which prompted a light wince. Her hands finished by knitting together. “I'm grateful to you folks for taking care of me. So, maybe I could offer you a hand?”
Zazzy looked back toward Emel. “I'm sure my friend would love to help out too.” she shot a foxy smile at the young noblewoman.
Manalo's face quickly scrunched up as he tried to understand, but she was talking quickly and informally and it bordered on the mocking, he thought. Laya had to step in and quickly translate the finer points to smooth things over. She might've said more, and Zarina thought she heard a 'Pirang' in there somewhere, but she went quickly and Makisig interjected a few times. When it was all over, and Manalo replied, he shrugged and placed a large hand on Makisig's shoulder.
"He not trust you!" the boy teased, "But not hate you. He say show me you no bad person."
Laya, meanwhile, evaluated Emel. She sighed. "Do you really want to be part of this?" she asked the noblewoman skeptically, to which Emel pondered for a moment before shrugging. "Do I really have much choice?" she replied, "It appears to be all around me whether I like it or not."
"Your people bring it here," Manalo interjected, able to catch some of the conversational thread. He shook his head and crossed his arms. "I am not want enemy, but these company man lie lie lie and make a trap to us."
Laya twisted sympathetically towards her uncle. "Tito, please..." she trailed off. "I know. I think she knows. She says she wants to help." She switched to Palaparese. "Susubukin ko siya. Huwag kang mag-alala."
Manalo nodded, patting her fondly on the shoulder, and Maki grinned like a little monkey. "Mother and pather are at the big house that the Agha is having built. You can come to ours. We can talk there. Don't mind Grandma Lumi. You met her already, I think." She made a little gesture at Maki and he returned it. then, she twisted on the spot and regarded her two guests and let out a relieved breath. "You ready?"
“I do want to help.” confirmed Zarina, her posture straightened as she crossed her arms. “If only to repay you. And to mess with that guy a little.” the faintest hint of a smirk took form on her expression.
Zarina shot a glance toward Emel, assessing how she felt about it all in spite of having just commandeered her. If anything, she would have pulled a favour from the noblewoman, but being an inconsiderate jerk was only a superficial game with Zaz. “Ready as I'll ever be. And by that I mean we probably need to treat the wound again.” her arm unfolded to show droplets of blood that had made it to her palm. The injury had opened and the bandage faltered from the recent show of force.
Lady Emel's eyes trailed after the departing group until they were well and truly gone. Manalo and Makisig were next to depart. "Do not spare her feelings," said the former in Palaparese. "Tell her the whole truth and, if she can't handle it, you come to me."
Laya replied with assurances and then there were three of them. Emel shrugged good-naturedly at Zarina's visual query. "truly," she suggested, "you and I should take some time, later, to catch up in earnest."
The local's eyes flicked briefly between the two and then she led on. "Grandma will be mad at you for getting up," she warned, with a hint of a smile, turning on the spot and shaking her head. "But, for now, I have skipped a meal to go translate... creatively for that horse's ass." She rolled her eyes. "There will be food at home."
Left unsaid was the fact that she was not translating up at the Agha's estate. Someone else would be doing that - perhaps Tevhid. The purpose of that meeting, whatever it was, remained inscrutable.
So, they walked. It was sweltering, especially with only sporadic tree cover from the few banyans, bananas, and palms lining the roadsides. Dust and the hum of insects hung in the air and puffy white clouds languished around the distant summits of the interior. Some semblance of normalcy had returned to the town after the day's earlier excitement, with a few boats out on the ocean, workers returning to fields, and old women chatting with each other outside of their houses. Thin grey streamers of smoke unraveled into the near-motionless air from a half-dozen houses and animals - including one stubborn goat that had been coaxed back by Makisig - shuffled idly around their pastures.
The house that Malaki had built (or, rather, had paid carpenters to build) was sizable but not to the point of opulence - removed somewhat from the village, but not entirely, not separate and above. Surrounded by a great covered verandah, it sat on a small hill overlooking a good many rows of terraced fields. Most of his crop was sugarcane, with a handful of fruit trees and some experimental spratz plants that did not seem to be thriving. A simple bamboo fence surrounded it and there was no true gate to speak of, save for an opening at the front. A series of chickens wandered about on the front lawn and smoke curled merrily out of its chimney. Well off to the side and somewhat behind, was a smaller, humbler structure that was little more than a thatched-roof hut. "Here's home," Laya announced with a certain fondness, gesturing at the greater of the two structures. "Well, the new home," she amended.
“We should.” Zarina conferred a reassuring smile at her fellow countrywoman. They were off on a pleasant walk under the zenith of midday made tolerable by the sea air and occasional fruit trees along the way. “My mother invested a lot in me learning things, including languages. Those stuck the most, mostly because I got to actually use them.” she offhandedly mentioned, indulging in some pleasant chit-chat and chuckles for the sake of socializing and opening herself to a potential friend.
They had arrived at Laya's family's residence, a nicer home compared to the rest. And just when she had gotten used to the coziness of the simpler life. It did reminder Zarina of her home - one on a small hill with fields around it, although hardly for any agricultural purposes. The chickens did earn a prolonged glance. “You better not be preparing one of these pretties for us.” she warned, her voice both playful and deliberate, as a reminder as to who her guests were.
“Ahhh~” the tall Virangish girl was quick to find a seat once inside. She had been expertly hiding the pain, but the walking under the heat made her crave reprieve without even asking for permission. “Hey, Laya,” Zarina called out, her gaze focused on a bowl filled with fresh fruits from the orchard. Pensive. “was the boy right? Are they actually fleecing you after being,” she cleared her throat. “'generous' to you and your family?”
Zarina had just begun speaking when Grandma Lumi appeared. She raced in and pressed a hand against Zarina's forehead and forbade her to move. "Bakit ka bumangon sa kama? Kailangan mo ang iyong pahinga! Ngayon, tingnan kung ano ang nangyari. She tutted and scowled and, after a moment, hustled Zarina off to a spare bedroom where she gave the girl a thorough scolding and a squeeze on the shoulder and fresh disinfecting and bandages. It was a non-negotiable half-hour interruption to the young Virangishwoman's information gathering.
Zarina was drawn back into the main room by the smell of fresh cooking. There was a whole platter of local foods, along with some Virangish ones, carefully prepared and presented. Lady Emel fluttered about the kitchen under Laya's direction and, presently, the latter deposited the last few items onto a platter and set it on the dining room tabletop. Lumi shooed the younger people to the table and, plucking a few pastries from a plate with a wicked little grin, set about cleaning. She would not hear their protests.
Laya smiled and shrugged helplessly. "There will be more to do later," she promised. "For now, it gives her a sense of purpose, so let us eat." They did not eat in silence, however, for she had not forgotten Zarina's initial question and, at some length, she began to explain the situation as she saw it.
"For a great many years," Laya began, "we have lived along this coast and fished in its waters and raised our plants and animals on its land." She shrugged, taking a bite. "That is simply the way of things and, while some years were bountiful, others were sparse. We kept our Gods and our ways and we managed." She paused to take a sip of mango juice and continued. "When you Virangish first came to these shores, we were far enough away from the major cities and the best farmland for coffee that we were mostly left to our own devices."
"I confess," Lady Emel allowed, "That I knew nothing of the northeast coast until I found myself here." She shrugged ruefully. "I further confess that I still feel I know precious little."
Laya smiled in response, setting her glass down to continue. "In the days of my grandmother and my father, some goods would make their way to us, and some news and some ideas." Her words and expression were neutral. "Six years ago, a few days after my eighteenth birthday, a large ship with triangular sails anchored offshore. I remember it well. It was before we had the port and its crew needed to land in small boats like the ones we used."
Grandmother Lumi came and sat by the table. Perhaps she didn't understand the words, but she must've had some inkling of what was being discussed, given the context and the friendly graveness of her granddaughter's tone. "It was a party from the Royal Palapar Trading Company, and many of us were excited." She tore into her meat and it was a moment before she would speak again. "Some were afraid." She dabbed at her lips. "There proved no reason to be. A man named Ilkhan, who said he was a 'development agent' through his translator, promised to build a port here because it was the best natural harbour for a while. He said it was for their ships to use to sell things in this region, but that we were welcome to use it as well. He spoke at some length with my father and uncle and most of the other respected men in Marawan and remarked that, with larger ships able to visit, we were fortunate, for we might sell much as well, and become wealthy."
Lumi's face became grave as she looked at the three younger women. She excused herself to go and tend to something that she was cooking.
Zarina uttered not a word when Lumi took her in and doused the guest with motherly concern and scorn. The whole time the teen had a smile, like a child that knew it had done something wrong and had to face the music, but didn't regret it. Until, of course, the pain came. It served her right, really.
When came time to eat, Zarina with her fresh bandages found a comfortable sitting position before indulging. Vegetables before the meat - she had a complicated relationship with the latter. On the one hand, her bleeding heart made her feel like a hypocrite, but on the other this was merely Oraff's cycle of life. Tentatively, she took a first bite before deciding she liked it. Especially with the mushrooms.
“That makes sense.” spoke the tall Virangish as food approached her lips. After a bit of munching, she continued. “They get to use your coast, you get to benefit from their docks.” the food was downed with the mango juice, to which a high pitched 'mmm' manifested her utter delight for it. “Ipte's grace, I really need to find a way to grow mangos.”
The air of the dining room became a little more grim. Laya's disposition was one hint, but Lumi's arrival, brief stay, and departure with solemn expression that differed from her doting demeanour. “And now here we are, they aren't just content with a port - they want your home.” she gestured with her cup in hand like she would have with vintage, a habit of her mother's. “How'd that happen?”
Laya shrugged, and it was neither a happy nor a carefree gesture. "Ilkhan was an older man. Some people called him Lolo Ilkhan." She shook her head, a wistful smile losing out to a frown. "I don't think he ever really wanted to go through with it. I think he came here to escape, or maybe he found his escape in Marawan. He was almost like one of us." She nodded slowly. "Almost."
Grandma Lumi emerged with a tray, shuffling around to a preparation surface and taking a knife out. She began chopping loudly behind the trio.
"During his time here, most all of us - my father first, and then the others once they saw his newfound wealth - switched from growing the food that we eat to growing sugarcane and other crops for money. We became used to it. We depended on it, and life seemed good, in most ways. We could not feed ourselves, but for my uncle, but we could always purchase what we needed." She shrugged. "I have heard some people fall this 'civilization'."
Outside, a dog barked at one of the chickens that was trying to straggle through the front gate. A few pairs of eyes went there before returning. Laya picked back up, changing gears. "Lolo's replacement, Tevhid - who you met - has been here for a few months. He was introduced to us and enjoyed our feast and made... friendships in our community." There was a momentary pause. Lumi had stopped her chopping upon hearing Tevhid's name, but she quickly resumed. Laya glanced away.
"Then,' she snorted, "he told us that the port was expensive and that, after the first five years, it needed maintenance." She shook her head in disgust. "We would either need to start paying fees to use it that were..." She leaned back and crossed her arms. "Well, let's just say that we may be a bit backward here, but we're not stupid. We know how much maintenance should cost and that wasn't it."
"I will confess to not knowing how much a port should cost," Emel observed, trying to inject a bit of levity.
Laya nodded, pressing her lips together in a thin line that had some commonalities with a smile and sitting upright again. "He didn't leave us totally without options, however," she added with false cheer. She tilted her head, taking another bite of her food and chewing for a second. "There was an Agha - Şemseddin - who was willing to pay, but then the port would naturally be his and for the use of himself, his businesses, and his subjects." She nodded slowly, fiddling with her knife for a moment. "We depend on that port and the money it brings, so this is the choice before us."
She put it down and looked up. "Uncle has always been against it and believes that we should fight the Virangish and throw them out, hence his... cool reception of you. He feels more vindicated than ever." She shook her head. "Father was the first one for it and now must be for it regardless of his current feelings." She drummed nervously on the tabletop with her fingers. "Grandma is torn between the two. They have always loved each other, as brothers should, but it has long been... complicated."
Zarina leaned back to listen, leaving her meal to cool without being touched for a time. It felt like a business discussion almost, where her scrutiny was necessary, but she lacked the Marci to propose a strategy to bite back. Out of habit, she looked over at Emel to see if she was as keen to work the case.
“I see.” was the Al-Nader's first response to the story. It stayed that way until she finished her first bite in a few minutes. “So, they've basically - pardon my Perrench - fucked you. Get you dependent on that port, and now they want to take it away lest you suck up to them.” once again, she leaned back with her utensils left on her plate, arms crossed and pensive. “If you want my full honesty, the easiest and more surefire solution is just taking it.” she confessed, her voice solemn yet still somewhat casual like it was any other business dinner. An addition to the grim air already present.
But then she sighed and her body language made it clear she wasn't finished. “But, we're not losers, now are we? The deal's only going to get worse anyway when one side has this much power. So-” now she leaned forward as she engaged with the other side of the issue. “First off, as adamant as your uncle is, his idea sucks too. It'll take too long for you guys to be self-sufficient again and you won't have much to trade with. Plus, the company isn't quick to forget when it gets screwed.” he fingers drummed over the table as she paused for a moment to think. “What we need is to get some negotiation power. The Agha, in the end, is wealthy and cozy no matter what. They won't desperately cling onto this if it gets too rowdy. So, knowing that, who has the most to gain - and to lose - when it comes to this deal? On the company's side, I mean.”
Laya considered for a moment, but it was only a moment. It was Emel, however, who spoke. She was not Marceline, though she had nearly ended up as lame as the tethered, but she had a cleverness of her own, now that circumstance was forcing her to demonstrate it.
"It's Tevhid, isn't it?" she ventured, though there was a certain bedrock underlying the skin-deep uncertainty of her tone.
Laya's eyes shot her way as Lumi shuffled unceremoniously in with a platter covered in... snails. It was a welcome distraction as they either ate or recoiled.
After a short time had passed, however, Laya looked up from behind a fist-sized snail shell and nodded very slightly. "He is a man caught between duty and his moral compass," she allowed, returning to her meal after the statement, but Emel's eyes had a glimmer of something in them. There was more and she could sense it. She waited, unflinching, and Laya exhaled loudly from her nose. "He will be betrothed to Lady İnşirah should he complete the deal successfully, and he will be hated forever by the people here." She took a drink to hide her face, but spoke quickly, before either of them could fill the brief silence. "My father does as well," she admitted. "He was the first to take advantage of the port, and it is the source of our current riches."
Lady Emel's expression made clear her opinion that 'riches' was a ferociously relative term in this case. Regardless, Laya continued. "It has made him a leader here, and I know that he and the Agha's kin are discussing, this very moment, how he might remain a leader under a new arrangement." She shook her head. "He feels like he has let us down. He feels as if people know or at least suspect this. He is a good talker, a good negotiator. I think he believes that he can yet pull a victory out of this."
Emel, who was listening intently, managed to spill her drink at that very moment with a careless elbow. She yelped and jumped back from the table, and Lumi was there with scolding words and a rag immediately. Still, some had ended up on the noblewoman's dress, and she hurried off to a washbasin, shooting Zarina a look. It took Laya a second to follow as well. "Hay más sobre Tevhid que ella no dice." she whispered quickly, before their escort caught up. "Estoy seguro de lo."
Zarina was content with being an audience here, between Emel's and Laya's insight, a picture could be drawn. She could conclude the painting with the addition that, given the man's stature and position of inferiority toward those on horseback, he was seeking to climb. An ambition, or rather a pressure, she was not unfamiliar with. In fact, it made her all the more keen on understanding the situation.
The snails were not particularly off-putting. A Perrench classic, albeit bigger than what she was used to, but typical gastronomy of the elites were something she had grown more used to in her teens.
Her fellow Darhannic had made a questionably accidental mess and had to excuse herself in a manner not too dissimilar to how girls needed to freshen up in the middle of a date. “Ah la la, she might need some help with that kind of stain.”
Zaz found Emel and leaned her shoulder against a wall. “Claro.” she said in her second language. “¿Qué voy a hacer? Je ne sais pas.” she chuckled half-heartedly. “The guy's into the village's princess, right?”
Emel nodded. "Oh, and it's mutual, though she won't admit it... or maybe doesn't know it. She's here," she added quickly at the end. "Be helping me with this stain."
Laya hurried after them and was, indeed, there just as Emel finished up. She regarded the pair and, if she was suspicious, she hid it well. "So, I've spilled all of my side of things..." she trailed off.
“I suppose that's an advantage for us, if we want to give them a hand.” said Zarina with a slightly tired sigh. “May as well, given what they've done for us, right?” she searched for Emel's eyes, intent on determining her position in all of this.
Then came Laya and Zarina had since gotten into position to 'help'. She scrubbed a few stains that could've been chemical magic'd away. “M'hm.” she replied as turned her head to acknowledge the native. “And you're trusting your plight to strangers. Do you know what happened to us?” she peered at Emel. “Did you tell them?”
The courtly lady's eyes flashed a warning. "I remember very little, to be honest," she lied. "Going to a gala down in Ceboyan, drinking, dancing, a duel between two men..." She shook her head. "Precious little after that." She regarded Zarina with a hint of steady apology. "Perhaps you might help me recall, for I believe you were there, in that great big clanking suit of yours."
"So it is true," Laya remarked. "You made it here from Ceboyan." She shook her head in wonderment."You could not be much further, at least not within the mainland. Might you remember any more?"
Zarina cocked her brows at the revelation of a convenient wave of amnesia hitting Emel. Both seemed relatively ignorant of the happenings, if they were truthful, and so the one that actually remembered spoke. “I do.” she leaned more into her good shoulder, arms crossed tightly as she spoke with a grim voice that matched Laya's during dinner. “Many non-combatants were massacred, including children, by rebels during that night. You got shot.” she up-nodded Emel. “And couldn't walk. I'm glad they actually fixed you.”
Careful attention was given to Laya's reaction. “I was shot too.” her hand moved to hover over her wounded chest. “With my own friend standing against me alongside those killers.” she sighed. “Now here I am, without magic, armor and my boss. I've no idea how it all ended after passing out.” she shrugged.
Laya's face was not of the expressive variety, and her reactions were far from emphatic and demonstrative. Nonetheless, she must've gone through close to a dozen of them as Zarina spoke. "So," she murmured, "The rebels are not all killed..." She trailed off. "Where was this party?" There was some urgency to her voice. "Where in the capital?"
Zarina looked at Emel again before answering flatly. “The Royal Palace. A ball happened. There were, indeed, more rebels.”
Laya made her way quickly to a large wooden chair with some cushions and sat herself on it, and Emel found another and settled there amid a poignant absence of self. To what extent she was acting, it was difficult to say. "We were told there was a rebellion, down in the south," the former admitted, and her face still held a species of skepticism at bay, as if some part of her would've preferred this had all been some misunderstanding or exaggeration. "But those happen every so often and there is not much that we can do one way or another." She shrugged. "Oh, they hung some men in Kalubay for sedition against the Queen and told us it was crushed and not to entertain any ideas like that ourselves." Laya's eyes were windows into a racing soul. "Agha Şirmerd delivered it from his horse and it came on the mouths of sailors shortly after - and a traveling yasoi. She was hard to forget..."
She trailed off before abruptly twisting. "Lola!" she called. "Lola Lumi!" The old woman peered over before shuffling across the floor. There was a quick exchange of words in Palaparese that neither of their visitors could hope to understand, after which Laya turned back to face them. "Sorry, I was just explaining to her what had happened." She shook her head slowly. Lumi, for her part, turned partway around and was still for a long moment before heading back to the kitchen and taking up her knife and cutting board again. "And the queen," Laya entreated. "Does the Queen live?" She stumbled over her words. "Piyale Karga? Ertan Kashani? Ren Baykara?" There was a pause and her eyes continued to churn. "So many lives..." she added, covering her hands with her mouth.
Zarina was the last to sit, finding it difficult to find comfort when she had a hole on her chest constantly aching. Her arms remained crossed and she watched Laya carefully. The thoughts were not on the deaths but rather the rebellion itself. Glances were shot toward Emel when Lumi was informed and taking the young Palapere's attention. Glances that manifested growing concern.
“Karga wasn't there, neither was Ren. So I don't know.” she stated, leaning forward and knitting her hands over her knee. “The Queen was there but I passed out before I could find her.” she took a deep breath. “As for Kashani ...” her quarter-lidded eyes locked with Laya's. “I saved his life. I saw him escape.”
"And they just..." she trailed off. "They just started killing?" She swallowed, gaze intense, and shifted so that she was leaning forward, hands clasped. "This is..." She took a steadying breath. "And they hurt you." Her eyes went Zarina's way for a moment, and then Emel's, who had absently traced a line across her waist with the back of her hand. "We... we thought it was finished," Laya explained, "that the fighting could never reach us..." She shook her head and swallowed again, twisting on the spot to regard her grandmother. The old woman's eyes were wide and her movements automatic. She nodded, face tight with urgency, and Laya rose and smoothed out her dress, full of frantic energy. "I... I'm sorry," she declared. "What that must've been like..." She began walking, faster, and then still more. "Hang tight over here," she called. "I'll be back soon." She was in the doorway, and Emel's eyes followed every step in her path. "Kung alam ni tito ang tungkol dito..." She trailed off and was gone, breaking into a Gift-enhanced run.
"Huwag kang mag-alala, anak, pumunta ka lang! Pumunta!" It was Lumi, and her eyes went back to the pair and then quickly and awkwardly elsewhere.
Perhaps Zarina was about to run after Laya, or perhaps not. However, before she could take any action, it was interrupted by a series of pinches behind one of her ears. It was Emel. <She. Lie. We. Need. Go. Agha. Now.>
Zarina sighed, partially embarrassed that attention was being put into what befell her, but also exasperated that she had to be the one to break the news to these folks. It hadn't crossed her mind that word didn't spread so quickly, and it still didn't hit her that it could cause trouble. Before she could get a word in, however, Laya had began her departure. There was a will to chase, but the body was not so apt.
She winced and almost wanted to sit back down. Emel, however, had the same idea and communicated her concern. Zarina concurred. “Numb me.” ordered the tallest of the two. “I think I fucked up.” this time she cast aside the ache and marched with purpose. No running, not until she either had the adrenaline running or Emel gave her a boost.
Lumi scrambled after them, calling in Palaparese. Emel seemed in a hurry, however. "She is not on our side," she told Zarina, hustling towards the door and shoving her feet into her shoes.
"Teka!" cried grandma Lumi. "Kung pupunta ka doon, nagpapalala lang ito."
They stood there in the doorway, but neither could see Laya, nor could they hear her. Wherever she had gone, she was well ahead of the pair.
“I don't think we should see it as 'sides' just yet.” remarked Zarina as she slipped on her sandals in a couple of swift motions. “We owe the benefit of the doubt.” she regarded Emel with a stern and solemn look.
Lumi was protesting and Zarina did not have the heart to ignore her. “I'm sorry.” hands together, she bowed her head multiple times apologetically and in quick succession. “It is important. But thank you.” with that, she stepped outside with Emel.
“She's either at uncle's or at the Agha's. I vote the latter.”
Emel held up where she stood, face screwing itself up anxiously. "I would say that we split," she admitted, "but I wouldn't want to be anywhere near him alone."
“Right.” Zarina raised her hand by her temple as she thought. “I'll just ... Fine, I'll go handle the uncle. No magic, but hey, tall.” she shrugged, oozing of faux-confidence.
Zarina found him chopping wood in his yard with a large axe. A pipe was clenched in the corner of his mouth, and he stopped, mid-swing, to regard Zarina with eyes that flashed warily, though not with hostility - just as before. "Why you here?" Manalo asked, setting his tool partially down, hand still lightly on the end of the shaft while the head rested on the ground beside his food. "Why you no eat my mother house?" There seemed to be something almost... accusatory about it.
She didn't have much of a plan, but there was an opportunity here should Laya be nowhere to be found. Zarina's jog came to a stop, her hand on her aching shoulder. “Looking for Laya.” she answered simply, slightly out of breath. “She left and I wanted to talk to her. Also,” she tapped her belly. “your mom knows how to feed guests. I thought I'd walk some of it off.” he demeanour remained, overall, friendly if a tad awkward.
"You lie bad," he replied, deadpan, or perhaps that was merely his lack of ability in Virangish. He mimicked wiping sweat off of his brow. "Where you friend?"
Maki, for what it was worth, was nowhere to be seen. Presently, the boy's father went back to chopping wood.
Zarina shrugged. “I am actually looking for her.” the awkwardness left, making place for a more down-to-earth demeanour. “My friend went to the Agha's residence.” she crossed her arms, adopting a visibly more defensive position. “I suppose Laya isn't here, then.” lips pursed, she kind of stood there and watch the wood get chopped. “For what it's worth, I don't like what they're doing to your village either.”
He tried not to look like he was focusing on her words to understand them. Perhaps it bothered him. A lot of things must've bothered Manalo, for he could not seem to settle simply for being a respected man about town, a father to his children, a handyman, and a fisherman. He was of the type who strove to do more, who distrusted naturally, and who perceived fights to be won. He was, in short, a younger sibling who had grown up in the shadow of an older one, bound by familial love but always - secretly - believing himself the more competent of the two.
"What you do about?" he questioned after a moment, pausing in his crusade against the logs. He tried to look casual, but there was always an intensity to Manalo.
Zarina threw her hands at about shoulder level. “I don't know yet.” she confessed while finding a spot to sit, whether it'd be a tree stump or a rock. “I haven't really talked to the agha's people yet. Or anyone else for that matter.”
For a moment she was quiet, silently finding the guts to confront. “What about you? What will you do about it, Manalo?”
He slung his axe over his shoulder, and he really was quite a large man for these islands where most people trended small. "I will fight for me people, like always." He narrowed his eyes, and Makisig could be spotted, now, peering out from the back of a shed in the distance. "Maybe you is different other Virangish. Maybe you think you different." He tapped his temple with a fingertip. "I read. I know. I am born free. No agha tell me what I do. My son, who is hide." There was a hint of a smirk as he shook his head. "I want him free. We farm food before. We fish before. We was no rich. We work all with us: all people. We live okay. We no need your money, your ship, your soo-gar, your lie. We can do again."
Manalo glanced back as the boy rolled his eyes and came striding over across the grass. "Maybe you can be good person," he admitted, "but you Virangish think only number, only 'best practice', no thinking right thing, no understand live with fear, no understanding other man own you like a dog. I see me brother in South. I see hurt in he's eyes." Makisig's eyes went from his father to Zarina and back again, inscrutable. "One time, Virangish tell he 'write your name on paper, welcome our agha, you can use our thing. Now he is dog." He scowled deeply - almost angrily. "Not me. Not me family. Never. I die first. I die now, so he can live free." He squeezed his son's shoulder. "and his son, and his son and his son after."
“You can't go back.” stated Zarina just as Manalo had finished his train of thought and concluded with the future of his son. She shifted her gaze the same way Makisig did as to not forget she wasn't just dealing with a massive and intense man. “You're too deep in the system. Too long to make food, too little to sell to. It's part of the trap.” both her hands rested on her opened knees, peering down as she laid out the truth as she saw it. “You have to fight, but you must also work with what you have. Tehvid can help fix this if he truly cares, and the situation isn't as unbalanced as you may think.” she raised her chin to meet Manalo's gaze again.
The sun was strong and the lack of magic really made Zarina realize how much she crutched on it when conditions weren't very comfortable. “You folks helped me. I'll help you. I know things they don't. But, I need you to promise you won't do anything crazy. Okay?” she looked at him with pleading eyes.
Manalo did his best to listen and to understand, but at the mention of Tevhid's name, he snorted and waved dismissively. "You think Tevhid is good man?" He shook his head. "He come here for get money. Only money and marry Agha daughter. He smile. He lie." A coldness entered Manalo's voice. "I think you need go now." He pointed vaguely in the direction of the hilltop where the Agha's residence was.
Zarina was quick to retort. “No.” her gaze was more challenging. “I think he might be useful to find a solution, however.” those same, intense eyes followed the disgruntled handyman's finger. “Right. Good talk, then, I guess.” her body language suggested she wanted to say something else, but after pursing her lips and holding out her hand to no avail, she turned around. “See you later, Maki.” she shot the kid a wink before scurrying off as fast as she could without breaking into a sprint.
Maki's eyes darted from Zarina to his father and back again. He waved sheepishly. Then, Zarina was on her own. She didn't know this place. The distance towards the town center fell away almost effortlessly, but she could not run at full speed. She simply wasn't able to - at least not yet.
It was four minutes before she reached the large house that Malaki had built - or had built. She did not see Lumi out front or through the windows. She did not see Emel or Laya, for they were long gone. She continued, winding up the hill in the direction where the agha's son and daughter had gone.
The house was, in some ways, a mockery of opulence. Built as if transposed cleanly from an estate in Virang, it roosted on the top of a small hill, a large gate out front, a dozen or so local workers toiling in its fields, and copious amounts of white paint and marble trying valiantly to resist the encroachments of local vines and creepers. If it was somewhat smaller than the grand plantations back home, it mimicked them as perfectly as one might in a foreign nation where the necessary resources were not as easy to come by.
At the gatehouse, she found nobody in attendance and the gate opened. A brief inspection revealed that this had been done with, perhaps, some degree of violence. The carriageway stretched on towards the manor house itself. A handful of workers looked up from their labour and, out of a pair some ways closer to the house, one peeled off and began heading for the door.
As Zarina braved the path to the mansion after passing through the damaged gate, she considered arming herself for what may come. Gardening tools, sticks, anything that caught her eye was evaluated. But, as she got to the thematic mismatch of a mansion, she had decided against it. If magic was at play, it would be pointless, she determined. A worker had moved that way as well and she expected some sort of greeting, ranging from warm to hostile. Pokerfaced, she had to keep her thoughts and feelings close to the vest for now.
The worker, however, merely glanced back at her and redoubled his pace, slipping through the door without pausing. The road ahead stretched out wide and dusty, puddles glistening in the sunken areas where the sugarcane sprouted, row upon verdant green row.
Zarina's eyebrows furrowed. An outdoor worker entering a lord's home so swiftly was unusual to be sure. Enough so to have the intruding foreigner act cautious, for once. Instead of simply entering, she hugged the pearly white walls and peeked into any opening or window, starting with the door to search for any potential breathing from a potential ambusher. She was, frankly, on edge now.
There came the indistinct sound of voice from inside, but no clear sign of an ambush. Then, it was about twenty seconds more before purposeful footsteps sounded and İnşirah could be seen approaching.
With the coast clear, Zarina sighed and placed herself before the entrance before politely knocking. She waited by the door, occasionally peering into the nearest window for anything out of the ordinary.
The door opened more or less the moment that she touched it, İnşirah appearing behind on the other side before stepping through. She did not waste time with greetings. "They are in an uproar," she said simply. "Swear to me now, in Dami's name, that your words are true."
Zarina blinked, surprised. “Erm.” the hesitation was more than evident, but her answer came swiftly. “Yes, I solemnly swear,” she internally winced at the seriousness of it all. “on Dami's name, that I speak the truth.” with that, she stared down the one standing between her and the interior.. “What's going on?”
İnşirah slipped outside and, in fact, closed the door behind her. "The chieftain's daughter burst into our house with the news and my brother is now in a state of chaos." She regarded Zarina, up and down. "I say this not to be rude, but because it may be important and I hope to find an ally." There was a brief pause. "Who are you and why are you here?"
Zarina took in the information and the second-worst case scenario had occurred. To be expected, but still a headache. It was her fault. She wasn't going to say it was without it being a necessity, however. “Special inquisitor Zarina Al-Nader.” she answered, her good arm behind her back and her voice as solemn as her vow. “I'm not sure the title holds after what occurred, but that's my last known post.”
İnşirah studied her a moment and then released a breath that, perhaps, she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Then you are with us. Finally, someone I can rely on in this Ipce-forsaken hellhole." She rubbed at the bridge of her nose and managed a tired smile. "Your friend there, Emel..." İnşirah trailed off. "She does not strike me as an inquisitor."
Zarina clenched her fist behind her back upon being recognized as an ally. She was very much of two minds here and with few that would actually side with her, she believed. “She isn't.” she clarified, once again peering into any nearby window in the hopes of assessing anything at all. “She a lady from Ceboyan. An invitee of the Royal Palace ball. I tried to get her out,” a slightly vacant look could be found in Zarina's eyes. “but I'm not sure what happened after.”
"And so you have the Gift?" İnşirah asked, though it was not truly a question.
Zarina pursed her lips and peered down for a second. The silence and gestures said it all.
“For good reason.”
"They've fed you the oil?" She released her breath in a hiss. "Then it is safe to assume that they left you here for a reason." There was not yet suspicion in her voice - merely curiosity. "Have you any idea?"
Zarina shrugged. “My best guess is to see what's unfolding here.” she folded her arms in anticipation of some pushback. “And maybe have a part in the outcome. I assume, since I'm alive, they're interested in seeing what I'll do.”
The Agha's daughter cracked a hint of a smile. "Well, that was their first mistake." She shook her head. "A blessed one for you, and for us, for I do not know you and am glad, still, that those savages did not do worse." She offered something like a supportive look. "They are chaotic and incorrigible, like children." She shook her head again, "and my brother is no better, I fear." She shrugged. "He has been that way ever since the academy."
She paused, and the workers toiled in the fields and the cicadas hummed and the roof of the great verandah protected Zarina from the glare of the afternoon sun. "Sister, we must get them to sign the papers before news of the killings down south reaches here, or they will be emboldened and it will be our corpses hanging from those trees just there." She motioned in the direction of the banyan trees that lined one part of the road. "Can I rely on you in this?" Her gaze was not quite pleading, but it was searching. She saw, in the form of Zarina and, perhaps, Emel, hope.
Zarina stepped to the side and distributed her gaze between the fields, the house and the agha's daughter, Insirah. “The people here nursed me back to health.” the mere thought of her chest and shoulder prompted a little rotation of the joint. “Well, as much as they could without the gift. They're quite distinct from those I've had to deal with down south.”
"But do you not feel how little they know?" İnşirah shook her head. "How much they might benefit from being guided towards civilization?" She scowled and shrugged. "As they are, they will not make it there on their own. They will need us. They will need a push."
Zarina inhaled. “They can benefit from your help and guidance, yes.” she admitted, but a big 'but' was inevitable with the tone she used. “The question is, how are you going to do that? How did you go about this so far?”
İnşirah arched an eyebrow. Was doubt creeping back in as to where Zarina's loyalties lay? "We provide them with a port and a market for their goods and responsible rule." She blinked. "What else is there at this stage? Rule of law and some measure of discipline? My brother's strength so they might be defended in times of crisis?" She shrugged. "Anything further will have to wait, and first we must weather this storm, nice though it is to dream."
Zarina listened, her gaze evaluative. Once she had her answer, she nodded. “Thank you for answering. When I return to Virang, I have the intention of sharing the modern practices of our company. To the Sultan, more specifically.” she stated, her hand reaching for the close door beside them. “Maybe a discussion is in order, one I can try to arbitrate?” she smiled. “I can promise you that my intention remain in the interest of our home, my lady.”
The agha's daughter put a shoulder gently into Zarina as she demonstrated her impatience. "Be wary of your tone around Şirmerd," she warned, voice barely above a whisper, "He is prickly, and there is a skill to managing him."
Zarina nodded in understanding. “I'll be considerate and follow your lead.”
Meanwhile, Manalo did not look happy, and he was stalking towards the group. "What are you doing here?" Laya murmured at Zarina and Emel as she brushed past. Her target seemed to be her uncle. Şirmerd's eyes and those of the tall man who Zarina might've guessed was Tevhid followed her, though the former's flicked back towards the two new women.
“Enchanted.” spoke a not-so-impressed and mildly sarcastic Zarina upon taking in his radiance's back-handed greeting. “Zarina Al-Nader. And this is Lady Emel. It truly is an honour to be in you and your wife's presence.” she smiled at the dull man.
Laya then came with her inquiry and was met with a nonchalant shrug. “I wanted to go for a walk, and found my friend.” her hand canted to the side Emel was at. “I was curious, too.” she added with a murmur that matched the educated local's.
Her attention returned to the heirs apparent. “Best of luck on your business endeavours. We hope Marawan may prosper ever more.” she smiled again like she would have with a Zenobucks customer. Her gaze shifted to Laya and Manalo, where her interest lied more.
Şirmerd seemed flabbergasted. "Y-you don't work for..." He trailed off. Perhaps his mistake had dawned on him. Lady Emel worked to cover a wicked smile and was largely successful.
The woman on the other horse, however, narrowed her eyes. "I am lord Şirmerd's sister, İnşirah." Her eyes flicked to Emel, who curtsied immediately, with great deference. 'But you already knew that,' they seemed to say. "Any concerns you have that you do not wish to trouble him with, you may bring to me and I shall attempt to address them in good faith." Those large dark eyes of hers - like pools of oil - studied Emel and Zarina, flicking over to the approaching Manalo.
Şirmerd shrugged, casting a look his sister's way. "Ah, well, looks like you wanna keep living this way," he snorted. "You'll be cooking under leaves and eating grubs next." He waved them off dismissively. "Bother her when you inevitably come crying to me for help."
The portly local man, who must've been Malaki, scowled deeply at that, and he, İnşirah, and the tall Virangishman exchanged glances. The latter finally found his voice.
The tall man, meanwhile, finally found his voice. "If I may, my lord, there is -"
"You may not, Tepid."
The tall man stiffened and bowed his head in apology.
"He only means to remind us that we have dinner waiting, brother," came İnşirah's smooth voice. Şirmerd glared Manalo's way, turned on the spot, and mounted his horse in a single smooth motion, as if it was a profoundly natural thing he had been doing his entire life. "Yes, yes. I know. I'm just playing around with your betrothed, sister." He sniffed. "Now, let's see some of those local delicacies..." He settled himself and furrowed his brow, having forgotten Malaki's name. "Malady's so eager -"
"It is Malaki," interrupted Laya, with a stiff bow of her head. "That is my father's name." Malaki's eyes widened, but he glanced from her to Şirmerd and nodded, as if in confirmation. the tall Virangishman with the glasses - Tevhid - nodded as well. "Oh," replied the would-be agha of Marawan, "so it is."
"I know it is not so easy for visitors from afar to remember," Malaki said quickly, gently motioning the party onward and beginning to move, himself. "Now, warm food is often better than cold, no?"
İnşirah nodded and bowed her head in thanks. She spurred her horse on and began moving. Şirmerd was about to do the same, when another voice cut in. "It is a very easy name to remember," said Manalo, his brother interposed between him and the mounted Virangish pair. "And to pronounce."
Şirmerd wheeled his horse about and regarded the new arrival with an equal mixture of surprise and contempt. Manalo had a pack full of fishing supplies and a machete strapped to his belt. "You stand on my land and insult my brother. Apologize and get off it," he demanded, in broken Virangish.
There were things that Zarina remembered from this interaction of which she made herself a discreet audience.
The first was that the sister, not the wife, was the one with her head between her shoulders. She had earned a proper nod from Zarina, although she did not feel right giving curtsy in her current get-up.
The second was that the Agha-to-be was an oaf. Potentially of the vicious kind. The mean-spirited pronunciation of names, of which Zazzy had tto shamefully stifle chuckles for, were clearly purposeful. The first was fair game, given it was his own flock, the second ...
The third was that one of these relevant people of the village wasn't going to take shit anymore. Zarina's amber gaze was transfixed on the man who talked back to the master. She swallowed and cast a quick glance toward Emel before leaning slightly into her.
“I'm plushtailed.” she whispered. “If things get messy, I'm going to need a little help.” she said just before taking a step forward and tentatively stepping into the conflict, though she withheld any words for now.
"They're not really gonna fight!" Emel whispered back urgently, :Are they?"
There was no way of knowing the future, however. Agha Şirmerd steadied his horse and, for a moment, regarded this local pest with the utmost contempt. Then, perhaps emboldened by Zarina's gesture and an urgent look from İnşirah, the company man - Tevhid - stepped neutrally into the middle. Malaki grimaced and did the same.
"I say again: this my land," Manalo repeated, and there was the sense of him drawing. In response, Şirmerd drew, and it was a mighty draw. Nominally, Zarina's capacity was probably similar to his, but she was nowhere close to her best and it hit her like a sledgehammer. Emel stumbled and feel backwards. Malaki staggered under its energetic weight and was caught and held up by his daughter. Tevhid sputtered and clutched at his temples, wobbling. İnşirah grimaced and looked distinctly uncomfortable. Manalo was brought nearly to one knee, but sheer stubborn pride kept him on his feet where his brother would've faltered but for Laya.
Instinct made Zarina immediately look toward Makisig when the pressure brought her to her knees. No big RAS for her, in fact she hardly had any in her state with only buried yet ever present bestial tenacity keeping her from fully faltering. The boy was, overall, fine given he had been told to stay back. Her next welfare check was on Emel and the nearby goat. Yet, even the simple minded mattered.
Cunts everywhere I go. Shune-fucking-horseshit. Both of Zarina's palms hit the dirt for added stability. The position really put strain on that wound, which would bleed through her sleeve in not too long. She looked up and found Laya. There was no speaking to be done, due to both the asphyxiating presence Şirmerd had, but also to avoid added fuel to this pyre she felt incompetent in handling. She noticed that the educated local had not been brought to her knees. The Virangish's look urged Laya to do something before this rapidly inflating balloon popped right into their faces. Gods, it sucked to be this powerless.
Laya seemed to have had enough. She left her father the moment he was steady and went to Manalo. "This my land. No your land!" the Palaparese rasped, face red and breath ragged. She placed a hand on his chest and leaned into him. "Pakiusap, tito, huwag," she whispered pleadingly. "Kakayanin ko. Pakiusap."
Manalo breathed heavily, his veins bulging, leaning forward onto her hand and Laya began to falter. Her eyes flicked to her father's, Tevhid's, and İnşirah's. Then, all at once, Şirmerd snorted and straightened. He turned his horse about. "For now," he belatedly addressed the local firebrand's bold assertion over his shoulder, "but most people are smarter than you, thankfully."
Tevhid glanced between the two parties, relieved and pained in equal measure. İnşirah rolled her eyes, but shot a little nod of thanks Laya's way. Malaki followed suit, flashed his daughter a tight smile, and hustled after the Agha. Makisig came running up moments later. "Tatay!" he called. "Tatay, okay ka lang?" Manalo now stood at his full height, ripples of long black hair cascading down his back, tattoos earned in his youth covering his deeply tanned skin. He breathed steadily and glared after Şirmerd and his party. Was there a hint of a smirk? For just a split second?
Once the pressure relented, Zarina released all the air she had been storing in her lungs in a single, loud exhale. Her face was red but she was left without a scratch. “What a dick.” she said openly in the middle of her ascension back to her feet when the horseback party was far enough out of range. “Guys like that, we make fun of them back home.” with a quick arching of her back, a singular pop confirmed a successful stretch.
Zarina joined Laya and her uncle with Maki also joining the fold. She kept some distance, of course, but was keen on involving herself. “So,” she opened up with hands on her hips and hair disheveled. “it's looking like not everyone's on the same page regarding a deal.” the tall Virangish girl up-nodded the educated girl in particular. “You seem to know your stuff, what's your take on this, now that you don't need to arbitrate tempers.”
"Laya." Her uncle addressed her before she could reply to Zarina, his eyes darting with wariness but not hostility in her direction. "Sino itong dayuhang babae na nagbibihis tulad namin at nakikipag-usap sa iyo bilang isang kaibigan?"
Laya nodded at him and then turned to Zarina and, by extension, Emel. "He asks who you are and why you dress like us and speak like a priend."
"I understand you," Manalo added. He pointed emphatically in the direction the Agha and his part had left in. "He is bad man. We no freedom ip we..." he struggled for his next word and trailed off, waving it away in frustration.
“I like to cozy up to people who go out of their way to help me.” a confident grin, teetering close to overconfidence, reigned on Zarina's expression as she shrugged. “I'm Zarina, by the way.” she looked Manalo in the eye, her expression staying the same with her eyes partially lidded. “It's nice to meet you, Laya's uncle, Manalo. And I dress like this because I've nothing else to wear.”
The manaless teen looked back to the group of riders now further away. “He's definitely a case. Bad? I dunno. He seems more stupid than evil. That said-” she eyed both adults after shooting Maki a wink if he ever decided to integrate himself. “I'm not very familiar with the situation. At all. But I so happen to have worked with the company for a while, and have my own business.” her gestures were open and free flowing, body language relaxed unless her shoulder was too engaged, which prompted a light wince. Her hands finished by knitting together. “I'm grateful to you folks for taking care of me. So, maybe I could offer you a hand?”
Zazzy looked back toward Emel. “I'm sure my friend would love to help out too.” she shot a foxy smile at the young noblewoman.
Manalo's face quickly scrunched up as he tried to understand, but she was talking quickly and informally and it bordered on the mocking, he thought. Laya had to step in and quickly translate the finer points to smooth things over. She might've said more, and Zarina thought she heard a 'Pirang' in there somewhere, but she went quickly and Makisig interjected a few times. When it was all over, and Manalo replied, he shrugged and placed a large hand on Makisig's shoulder.
"He not trust you!" the boy teased, "But not hate you. He say show me you no bad person."
Laya, meanwhile, evaluated Emel. She sighed. "Do you really want to be part of this?" she asked the noblewoman skeptically, to which Emel pondered for a moment before shrugging. "Do I really have much choice?" she replied, "It appears to be all around me whether I like it or not."
"Your people bring it here," Manalo interjected, able to catch some of the conversational thread. He shook his head and crossed his arms. "I am not want enemy, but these company man lie lie lie and make a trap to us."
Laya twisted sympathetically towards her uncle. "Tito, please..." she trailed off. "I know. I think she knows. She says she wants to help." She switched to Palaparese. "Susubukin ko siya. Huwag kang mag-alala."
Manalo nodded, patting her fondly on the shoulder, and Maki grinned like a little monkey. "Mother and pather are at the big house that the Agha is having built. You can come to ours. We can talk there. Don't mind Grandma Lumi. You met her already, I think." She made a little gesture at Maki and he returned it. then, she twisted on the spot and regarded her two guests and let out a relieved breath. "You ready?"
“I do want to help.” confirmed Zarina, her posture straightened as she crossed her arms. “If only to repay you. And to mess with that guy a little.” the faintest hint of a smirk took form on her expression.
Zarina shot a glance toward Emel, assessing how she felt about it all in spite of having just commandeered her. If anything, she would have pulled a favour from the noblewoman, but being an inconsiderate jerk was only a superficial game with Zaz. “Ready as I'll ever be. And by that I mean we probably need to treat the wound again.” her arm unfolded to show droplets of blood that had made it to her palm. The injury had opened and the bandage faltered from the recent show of force.
Lady Emel's eyes trailed after the departing group until they were well and truly gone. Manalo and Makisig were next to depart. "Do not spare her feelings," said the former in Palaparese. "Tell her the whole truth and, if she can't handle it, you come to me."
Laya replied with assurances and then there were three of them. Emel shrugged good-naturedly at Zarina's visual query. "truly," she suggested, "you and I should take some time, later, to catch up in earnest."
The local's eyes flicked briefly between the two and then she led on. "Grandma will be mad at you for getting up," she warned, with a hint of a smile, turning on the spot and shaking her head. "But, for now, I have skipped a meal to go translate... creatively for that horse's ass." She rolled her eyes. "There will be food at home."
Left unsaid was the fact that she was not translating up at the Agha's estate. Someone else would be doing that - perhaps Tevhid. The purpose of that meeting, whatever it was, remained inscrutable.
So, they walked. It was sweltering, especially with only sporadic tree cover from the few banyans, bananas, and palms lining the roadsides. Dust and the hum of insects hung in the air and puffy white clouds languished around the distant summits of the interior. Some semblance of normalcy had returned to the town after the day's earlier excitement, with a few boats out on the ocean, workers returning to fields, and old women chatting with each other outside of their houses. Thin grey streamers of smoke unraveled into the near-motionless air from a half-dozen houses and animals - including one stubborn goat that had been coaxed back by Makisig - shuffled idly around their pastures.
The house that Malaki had built (or, rather, had paid carpenters to build) was sizable but not to the point of opulence - removed somewhat from the village, but not entirely, not separate and above. Surrounded by a great covered verandah, it sat on a small hill overlooking a good many rows of terraced fields. Most of his crop was sugarcane, with a handful of fruit trees and some experimental spratz plants that did not seem to be thriving. A simple bamboo fence surrounded it and there was no true gate to speak of, save for an opening at the front. A series of chickens wandered about on the front lawn and smoke curled merrily out of its chimney. Well off to the side and somewhat behind, was a smaller, humbler structure that was little more than a thatched-roof hut. "Here's home," Laya announced with a certain fondness, gesturing at the greater of the two structures. "Well, the new home," she amended.
“We should.” Zarina conferred a reassuring smile at her fellow countrywoman. They were off on a pleasant walk under the zenith of midday made tolerable by the sea air and occasional fruit trees along the way. “My mother invested a lot in me learning things, including languages. Those stuck the most, mostly because I got to actually use them.” she offhandedly mentioned, indulging in some pleasant chit-chat and chuckles for the sake of socializing and opening herself to a potential friend.
They had arrived at Laya's family's residence, a nicer home compared to the rest. And just when she had gotten used to the coziness of the simpler life. It did reminder Zarina of her home - one on a small hill with fields around it, although hardly for any agricultural purposes. The chickens did earn a prolonged glance. “You better not be preparing one of these pretties for us.” she warned, her voice both playful and deliberate, as a reminder as to who her guests were.
“Ahhh~” the tall Virangish girl was quick to find a seat once inside. She had been expertly hiding the pain, but the walking under the heat made her crave reprieve without even asking for permission. “Hey, Laya,” Zarina called out, her gaze focused on a bowl filled with fresh fruits from the orchard. Pensive. “was the boy right? Are they actually fleecing you after being,” she cleared her throat. “'generous' to you and your family?”
Zarina had just begun speaking when Grandma Lumi appeared. She raced in and pressed a hand against Zarina's forehead and forbade her to move. "Bakit ka bumangon sa kama? Kailangan mo ang iyong pahinga! Ngayon, tingnan kung ano ang nangyari. She tutted and scowled and, after a moment, hustled Zarina off to a spare bedroom where she gave the girl a thorough scolding and a squeeze on the shoulder and fresh disinfecting and bandages. It was a non-negotiable half-hour interruption to the young Virangishwoman's information gathering.
Zarina was drawn back into the main room by the smell of fresh cooking. There was a whole platter of local foods, along with some Virangish ones, carefully prepared and presented. Lady Emel fluttered about the kitchen under Laya's direction and, presently, the latter deposited the last few items onto a platter and set it on the dining room tabletop. Lumi shooed the younger people to the table and, plucking a few pastries from a plate with a wicked little grin, set about cleaning. She would not hear their protests.
Laya smiled and shrugged helplessly. "There will be more to do later," she promised. "For now, it gives her a sense of purpose, so let us eat." They did not eat in silence, however, for she had not forgotten Zarina's initial question and, at some length, she began to explain the situation as she saw it.
"For a great many years," Laya began, "we have lived along this coast and fished in its waters and raised our plants and animals on its land." She shrugged, taking a bite. "That is simply the way of things and, while some years were bountiful, others were sparse. We kept our Gods and our ways and we managed." She paused to take a sip of mango juice and continued. "When you Virangish first came to these shores, we were far enough away from the major cities and the best farmland for coffee that we were mostly left to our own devices."
"I confess," Lady Emel allowed, "That I knew nothing of the northeast coast until I found myself here." She shrugged ruefully. "I further confess that I still feel I know precious little."
Laya smiled in response, setting her glass down to continue. "In the days of my grandmother and my father, some goods would make their way to us, and some news and some ideas." Her words and expression were neutral. "Six years ago, a few days after my eighteenth birthday, a large ship with triangular sails anchored offshore. I remember it well. It was before we had the port and its crew needed to land in small boats like the ones we used."
Grandmother Lumi came and sat by the table. Perhaps she didn't understand the words, but she must've had some inkling of what was being discussed, given the context and the friendly graveness of her granddaughter's tone. "It was a party from the Royal Palapar Trading Company, and many of us were excited." She tore into her meat and it was a moment before she would speak again. "Some were afraid." She dabbed at her lips. "There proved no reason to be. A man named Ilkhan, who said he was a 'development agent' through his translator, promised to build a port here because it was the best natural harbour for a while. He said it was for their ships to use to sell things in this region, but that we were welcome to use it as well. He spoke at some length with my father and uncle and most of the other respected men in Marawan and remarked that, with larger ships able to visit, we were fortunate, for we might sell much as well, and become wealthy."
Lumi's face became grave as she looked at the three younger women. She excused herself to go and tend to something that she was cooking.
Zarina uttered not a word when Lumi took her in and doused the guest with motherly concern and scorn. The whole time the teen had a smile, like a child that knew it had done something wrong and had to face the music, but didn't regret it. Until, of course, the pain came. It served her right, really.
When came time to eat, Zarina with her fresh bandages found a comfortable sitting position before indulging. Vegetables before the meat - she had a complicated relationship with the latter. On the one hand, her bleeding heart made her feel like a hypocrite, but on the other this was merely Oraff's cycle of life. Tentatively, she took a first bite before deciding she liked it. Especially with the mushrooms.
“That makes sense.” spoke the tall Virangish as food approached her lips. After a bit of munching, she continued. “They get to use your coast, you get to benefit from their docks.” the food was downed with the mango juice, to which a high pitched 'mmm' manifested her utter delight for it. “Ipte's grace, I really need to find a way to grow mangos.”
The air of the dining room became a little more grim. Laya's disposition was one hint, but Lumi's arrival, brief stay, and departure with solemn expression that differed from her doting demeanour. “And now here we are, they aren't just content with a port - they want your home.” she gestured with her cup in hand like she would have with vintage, a habit of her mother's. “How'd that happen?”
Laya shrugged, and it was neither a happy nor a carefree gesture. "Ilkhan was an older man. Some people called him Lolo Ilkhan." She shook her head, a wistful smile losing out to a frown. "I don't think he ever really wanted to go through with it. I think he came here to escape, or maybe he found his escape in Marawan. He was almost like one of us." She nodded slowly. "Almost."
Grandma Lumi emerged with a tray, shuffling around to a preparation surface and taking a knife out. She began chopping loudly behind the trio.
"During his time here, most all of us - my father first, and then the others once they saw his newfound wealth - switched from growing the food that we eat to growing sugarcane and other crops for money. We became used to it. We depended on it, and life seemed good, in most ways. We could not feed ourselves, but for my uncle, but we could always purchase what we needed." She shrugged. "I have heard some people fall this 'civilization'."
Outside, a dog barked at one of the chickens that was trying to straggle through the front gate. A few pairs of eyes went there before returning. Laya picked back up, changing gears. "Lolo's replacement, Tevhid - who you met - has been here for a few months. He was introduced to us and enjoyed our feast and made... friendships in our community." There was a momentary pause. Lumi had stopped her chopping upon hearing Tevhid's name, but she quickly resumed. Laya glanced away.
"Then,' she snorted, "he told us that the port was expensive and that, after the first five years, it needed maintenance." She shook her head in disgust. "We would either need to start paying fees to use it that were..." She leaned back and crossed her arms. "Well, let's just say that we may be a bit backward here, but we're not stupid. We know how much maintenance should cost and that wasn't it."
"I will confess to not knowing how much a port should cost," Emel observed, trying to inject a bit of levity.
Laya nodded, pressing her lips together in a thin line that had some commonalities with a smile and sitting upright again. "He didn't leave us totally without options, however," she added with false cheer. She tilted her head, taking another bite of her food and chewing for a second. "There was an Agha - Şemseddin - who was willing to pay, but then the port would naturally be his and for the use of himself, his businesses, and his subjects." She nodded slowly, fiddling with her knife for a moment. "We depend on that port and the money it brings, so this is the choice before us."
She put it down and looked up. "Uncle has always been against it and believes that we should fight the Virangish and throw them out, hence his... cool reception of you. He feels more vindicated than ever." She shook her head. "Father was the first one for it and now must be for it regardless of his current feelings." She drummed nervously on the tabletop with her fingers. "Grandma is torn between the two. They have always loved each other, as brothers should, but it has long been... complicated."
Zarina leaned back to listen, leaving her meal to cool without being touched for a time. It felt like a business discussion almost, where her scrutiny was necessary, but she lacked the Marci to propose a strategy to bite back. Out of habit, she looked over at Emel to see if she was as keen to work the case.
“I see.” was the Al-Nader's first response to the story. It stayed that way until she finished her first bite in a few minutes. “So, they've basically - pardon my Perrench - fucked you. Get you dependent on that port, and now they want to take it away lest you suck up to them.” once again, she leaned back with her utensils left on her plate, arms crossed and pensive. “If you want my full honesty, the easiest and more surefire solution is just taking it.” she confessed, her voice solemn yet still somewhat casual like it was any other business dinner. An addition to the grim air already present.
But then she sighed and her body language made it clear she wasn't finished. “But, we're not losers, now are we? The deal's only going to get worse anyway when one side has this much power. So-” now she leaned forward as she engaged with the other side of the issue. “First off, as adamant as your uncle is, his idea sucks too. It'll take too long for you guys to be self-sufficient again and you won't have much to trade with. Plus, the company isn't quick to forget when it gets screwed.” he fingers drummed over the table as she paused for a moment to think. “What we need is to get some negotiation power. The Agha, in the end, is wealthy and cozy no matter what. They won't desperately cling onto this if it gets too rowdy. So, knowing that, who has the most to gain - and to lose - when it comes to this deal? On the company's side, I mean.”
Laya considered for a moment, but it was only a moment. It was Emel, however, who spoke. She was not Marceline, though she had nearly ended up as lame as the tethered, but she had a cleverness of her own, now that circumstance was forcing her to demonstrate it.
"It's Tevhid, isn't it?" she ventured, though there was a certain bedrock underlying the skin-deep uncertainty of her tone.
Laya's eyes shot her way as Lumi shuffled unceremoniously in with a platter covered in... snails. It was a welcome distraction as they either ate or recoiled.
After a short time had passed, however, Laya looked up from behind a fist-sized snail shell and nodded very slightly. "He is a man caught between duty and his moral compass," she allowed, returning to her meal after the statement, but Emel's eyes had a glimmer of something in them. There was more and she could sense it. She waited, unflinching, and Laya exhaled loudly from her nose. "He will be betrothed to Lady İnşirah should he complete the deal successfully, and he will be hated forever by the people here." She took a drink to hide her face, but spoke quickly, before either of them could fill the brief silence. "My father does as well," she admitted. "He was the first to take advantage of the port, and it is the source of our current riches."
Lady Emel's expression made clear her opinion that 'riches' was a ferociously relative term in this case. Regardless, Laya continued. "It has made him a leader here, and I know that he and the Agha's kin are discussing, this very moment, how he might remain a leader under a new arrangement." She shook her head. "He feels like he has let us down. He feels as if people know or at least suspect this. He is a good talker, a good negotiator. I think he believes that he can yet pull a victory out of this."
Emel, who was listening intently, managed to spill her drink at that very moment with a careless elbow. She yelped and jumped back from the table, and Lumi was there with scolding words and a rag immediately. Still, some had ended up on the noblewoman's dress, and she hurried off to a washbasin, shooting Zarina a look. It took Laya a second to follow as well. "Hay más sobre Tevhid que ella no dice." she whispered quickly, before their escort caught up. "Estoy seguro de lo."
Zarina was content with being an audience here, between Emel's and Laya's insight, a picture could be drawn. She could conclude the painting with the addition that, given the man's stature and position of inferiority toward those on horseback, he was seeking to climb. An ambition, or rather a pressure, she was not unfamiliar with. In fact, it made her all the more keen on understanding the situation.
The snails were not particularly off-putting. A Perrench classic, albeit bigger than what she was used to, but typical gastronomy of the elites were something she had grown more used to in her teens.
Her fellow Darhannic had made a questionably accidental mess and had to excuse herself in a manner not too dissimilar to how girls needed to freshen up in the middle of a date. “Ah la la, she might need some help with that kind of stain.”
Zaz found Emel and leaned her shoulder against a wall. “Claro.” she said in her second language. “¿Qué voy a hacer? Je ne sais pas.” she chuckled half-heartedly. “The guy's into the village's princess, right?”
Emel nodded. "Oh, and it's mutual, though she won't admit it... or maybe doesn't know it. She's here," she added quickly at the end. "Be helping me with this stain."
Laya hurried after them and was, indeed, there just as Emel finished up. She regarded the pair and, if she was suspicious, she hid it well. "So, I've spilled all of my side of things..." she trailed off.
“I suppose that's an advantage for us, if we want to give them a hand.” said Zarina with a slightly tired sigh. “May as well, given what they've done for us, right?” she searched for Emel's eyes, intent on determining her position in all of this.
Then came Laya and Zarina had since gotten into position to 'help'. She scrubbed a few stains that could've been chemical magic'd away. “M'hm.” she replied as turned her head to acknowledge the native. “And you're trusting your plight to strangers. Do you know what happened to us?” she peered at Emel. “Did you tell them?”
The courtly lady's eyes flashed a warning. "I remember very little, to be honest," she lied. "Going to a gala down in Ceboyan, drinking, dancing, a duel between two men..." She shook her head. "Precious little after that." She regarded Zarina with a hint of steady apology. "Perhaps you might help me recall, for I believe you were there, in that great big clanking suit of yours."
"So it is true," Laya remarked. "You made it here from Ceboyan." She shook her head in wonderment."You could not be much further, at least not within the mainland. Might you remember any more?"
Zarina cocked her brows at the revelation of a convenient wave of amnesia hitting Emel. Both seemed relatively ignorant of the happenings, if they were truthful, and so the one that actually remembered spoke. “I do.” she leaned more into her good shoulder, arms crossed tightly as she spoke with a grim voice that matched Laya's during dinner. “Many non-combatants were massacred, including children, by rebels during that night. You got shot.” she up-nodded Emel. “And couldn't walk. I'm glad they actually fixed you.”
Careful attention was given to Laya's reaction. “I was shot too.” her hand moved to hover over her wounded chest. “With my own friend standing against me alongside those killers.” she sighed. “Now here I am, without magic, armor and my boss. I've no idea how it all ended after passing out.” she shrugged.
Laya's face was not of the expressive variety, and her reactions were far from emphatic and demonstrative. Nonetheless, she must've gone through close to a dozen of them as Zarina spoke. "So," she murmured, "The rebels are not all killed..." She trailed off. "Where was this party?" There was some urgency to her voice. "Where in the capital?"
Zarina looked at Emel again before answering flatly. “The Royal Palace. A ball happened. There were, indeed, more rebels.”
Laya made her way quickly to a large wooden chair with some cushions and sat herself on it, and Emel found another and settled there amid a poignant absence of self. To what extent she was acting, it was difficult to say. "We were told there was a rebellion, down in the south," the former admitted, and her face still held a species of skepticism at bay, as if some part of her would've preferred this had all been some misunderstanding or exaggeration. "But those happen every so often and there is not much that we can do one way or another." She shrugged. "Oh, they hung some men in Kalubay for sedition against the Queen and told us it was crushed and not to entertain any ideas like that ourselves." Laya's eyes were windows into a racing soul. "Agha Şirmerd delivered it from his horse and it came on the mouths of sailors shortly after - and a traveling yasoi. She was hard to forget..."
She trailed off before abruptly twisting. "Lola!" she called. "Lola Lumi!" The old woman peered over before shuffling across the floor. There was a quick exchange of words in Palaparese that neither of their visitors could hope to understand, after which Laya turned back to face them. "Sorry, I was just explaining to her what had happened." She shook her head slowly. Lumi, for her part, turned partway around and was still for a long moment before heading back to the kitchen and taking up her knife and cutting board again. "And the queen," Laya entreated. "Does the Queen live?" She stumbled over her words. "Piyale Karga? Ertan Kashani? Ren Baykara?" There was a pause and her eyes continued to churn. "So many lives..." she added, covering her hands with her mouth.
Zarina was the last to sit, finding it difficult to find comfort when she had a hole on her chest constantly aching. Her arms remained crossed and she watched Laya carefully. The thoughts were not on the deaths but rather the rebellion itself. Glances were shot toward Emel when Lumi was informed and taking the young Palapere's attention. Glances that manifested growing concern.
“Karga wasn't there, neither was Ren. So I don't know.” she stated, leaning forward and knitting her hands over her knee. “The Queen was there but I passed out before I could find her.” she took a deep breath. “As for Kashani ...” her quarter-lidded eyes locked with Laya's. “I saved his life. I saw him escape.”
"And they just..." she trailed off. "They just started killing?" She swallowed, gaze intense, and shifted so that she was leaning forward, hands clasped. "This is..." She took a steadying breath. "And they hurt you." Her eyes went Zarina's way for a moment, and then Emel's, who had absently traced a line across her waist with the back of her hand. "We... we thought it was finished," Laya explained, "that the fighting could never reach us..." She shook her head and swallowed again, twisting on the spot to regard her grandmother. The old woman's eyes were wide and her movements automatic. She nodded, face tight with urgency, and Laya rose and smoothed out her dress, full of frantic energy. "I... I'm sorry," she declared. "What that must've been like..." She began walking, faster, and then still more. "Hang tight over here," she called. "I'll be back soon." She was in the doorway, and Emel's eyes followed every step in her path. "Kung alam ni tito ang tungkol dito..." She trailed off and was gone, breaking into a Gift-enhanced run.
"Huwag kang mag-alala, anak, pumunta ka lang! Pumunta!" It was Lumi, and her eyes went back to the pair and then quickly and awkwardly elsewhere.
Perhaps Zarina was about to run after Laya, or perhaps not. However, before she could take any action, it was interrupted by a series of pinches behind one of her ears. It was Emel. <She. Lie. We. Need. Go. Agha. Now.>
Zarina sighed, partially embarrassed that attention was being put into what befell her, but also exasperated that she had to be the one to break the news to these folks. It hadn't crossed her mind that word didn't spread so quickly, and it still didn't hit her that it could cause trouble. Before she could get a word in, however, Laya had began her departure. There was a will to chase, but the body was not so apt.
She winced and almost wanted to sit back down. Emel, however, had the same idea and communicated her concern. Zarina concurred. “Numb me.” ordered the tallest of the two. “I think I fucked up.” this time she cast aside the ache and marched with purpose. No running, not until she either had the adrenaline running or Emel gave her a boost.
Lumi scrambled after them, calling in Palaparese. Emel seemed in a hurry, however. "She is not on our side," she told Zarina, hustling towards the door and shoving her feet into her shoes.
"Teka!" cried grandma Lumi. "Kung pupunta ka doon, nagpapalala lang ito."
They stood there in the doorway, but neither could see Laya, nor could they hear her. Wherever she had gone, she was well ahead of the pair.
“I don't think we should see it as 'sides' just yet.” remarked Zarina as she slipped on her sandals in a couple of swift motions. “We owe the benefit of the doubt.” she regarded Emel with a stern and solemn look.
Lumi was protesting and Zarina did not have the heart to ignore her. “I'm sorry.” hands together, she bowed her head multiple times apologetically and in quick succession. “It is important. But thank you.” with that, she stepped outside with Emel.
“She's either at uncle's or at the Agha's. I vote the latter.”
Emel held up where she stood, face screwing itself up anxiously. "I would say that we split," she admitted, "but I wouldn't want to be anywhere near him alone."
“Right.” Zarina raised her hand by her temple as she thought. “I'll just ... Fine, I'll go handle the uncle. No magic, but hey, tall.” she shrugged, oozing of faux-confidence.
Zarina found him chopping wood in his yard with a large axe. A pipe was clenched in the corner of his mouth, and he stopped, mid-swing, to regard Zarina with eyes that flashed warily, though not with hostility - just as before. "Why you here?" Manalo asked, setting his tool partially down, hand still lightly on the end of the shaft while the head rested on the ground beside his food. "Why you no eat my mother house?" There seemed to be something almost... accusatory about it.
She didn't have much of a plan, but there was an opportunity here should Laya be nowhere to be found. Zarina's jog came to a stop, her hand on her aching shoulder. “Looking for Laya.” she answered simply, slightly out of breath. “She left and I wanted to talk to her. Also,” she tapped her belly. “your mom knows how to feed guests. I thought I'd walk some of it off.” he demeanour remained, overall, friendly if a tad awkward.
"You lie bad," he replied, deadpan, or perhaps that was merely his lack of ability in Virangish. He mimicked wiping sweat off of his brow. "Where you friend?"
Maki, for what it was worth, was nowhere to be seen. Presently, the boy's father went back to chopping wood.
Zarina shrugged. “I am actually looking for her.” the awkwardness left, making place for a more down-to-earth demeanour. “My friend went to the Agha's residence.” she crossed her arms, adopting a visibly more defensive position. “I suppose Laya isn't here, then.” lips pursed, she kind of stood there and watch the wood get chopped. “For what it's worth, I don't like what they're doing to your village either.”
He tried not to look like he was focusing on her words to understand them. Perhaps it bothered him. A lot of things must've bothered Manalo, for he could not seem to settle simply for being a respected man about town, a father to his children, a handyman, and a fisherman. He was of the type who strove to do more, who distrusted naturally, and who perceived fights to be won. He was, in short, a younger sibling who had grown up in the shadow of an older one, bound by familial love but always - secretly - believing himself the more competent of the two.
"What you do about?" he questioned after a moment, pausing in his crusade against the logs. He tried to look casual, but there was always an intensity to Manalo.
Zarina threw her hands at about shoulder level. “I don't know yet.” she confessed while finding a spot to sit, whether it'd be a tree stump or a rock. “I haven't really talked to the agha's people yet. Or anyone else for that matter.”
For a moment she was quiet, silently finding the guts to confront. “What about you? What will you do about it, Manalo?”
He slung his axe over his shoulder, and he really was quite a large man for these islands where most people trended small. "I will fight for me people, like always." He narrowed his eyes, and Makisig could be spotted, now, peering out from the back of a shed in the distance. "Maybe you is different other Virangish. Maybe you think you different." He tapped his temple with a fingertip. "I read. I know. I am born free. No agha tell me what I do. My son, who is hide." There was a hint of a smirk as he shook his head. "I want him free. We farm food before. We fish before. We was no rich. We work all with us: all people. We live okay. We no need your money, your ship, your soo-gar, your lie. We can do again."
Manalo glanced back as the boy rolled his eyes and came striding over across the grass. "Maybe you can be good person," he admitted, "but you Virangish think only number, only 'best practice', no thinking right thing, no understand live with fear, no understanding other man own you like a dog. I see me brother in South. I see hurt in he's eyes." Makisig's eyes went from his father to Zarina and back again, inscrutable. "One time, Virangish tell he 'write your name on paper, welcome our agha, you can use our thing. Now he is dog." He scowled deeply - almost angrily. "Not me. Not me family. Never. I die first. I die now, so he can live free." He squeezed his son's shoulder. "and his son, and his son and his son after."
“You can't go back.” stated Zarina just as Manalo had finished his train of thought and concluded with the future of his son. She shifted her gaze the same way Makisig did as to not forget she wasn't just dealing with a massive and intense man. “You're too deep in the system. Too long to make food, too little to sell to. It's part of the trap.” both her hands rested on her opened knees, peering down as she laid out the truth as she saw it. “You have to fight, but you must also work with what you have. Tehvid can help fix this if he truly cares, and the situation isn't as unbalanced as you may think.” she raised her chin to meet Manalo's gaze again.
The sun was strong and the lack of magic really made Zarina realize how much she crutched on it when conditions weren't very comfortable. “You folks helped me. I'll help you. I know things they don't. But, I need you to promise you won't do anything crazy. Okay?” she looked at him with pleading eyes.
Manalo did his best to listen and to understand, but at the mention of Tevhid's name, he snorted and waved dismissively. "You think Tevhid is good man?" He shook his head. "He come here for get money. Only money and marry Agha daughter. He smile. He lie." A coldness entered Manalo's voice. "I think you need go now." He pointed vaguely in the direction of the hilltop where the Agha's residence was.
Zarina was quick to retort. “No.” her gaze was more challenging. “I think he might be useful to find a solution, however.” those same, intense eyes followed the disgruntled handyman's finger. “Right. Good talk, then, I guess.” her body language suggested she wanted to say something else, but after pursing her lips and holding out her hand to no avail, she turned around. “See you later, Maki.” she shot the kid a wink before scurrying off as fast as she could without breaking into a sprint.
Maki's eyes darted from Zarina to his father and back again. He waved sheepishly. Then, Zarina was on her own. She didn't know this place. The distance towards the town center fell away almost effortlessly, but she could not run at full speed. She simply wasn't able to - at least not yet.
It was four minutes before she reached the large house that Malaki had built - or had built. She did not see Lumi out front or through the windows. She did not see Emel or Laya, for they were long gone. She continued, winding up the hill in the direction where the agha's son and daughter had gone.
The house was, in some ways, a mockery of opulence. Built as if transposed cleanly from an estate in Virang, it roosted on the top of a small hill, a large gate out front, a dozen or so local workers toiling in its fields, and copious amounts of white paint and marble trying valiantly to resist the encroachments of local vines and creepers. If it was somewhat smaller than the grand plantations back home, it mimicked them as perfectly as one might in a foreign nation where the necessary resources were not as easy to come by.
At the gatehouse, she found nobody in attendance and the gate opened. A brief inspection revealed that this had been done with, perhaps, some degree of violence. The carriageway stretched on towards the manor house itself. A handful of workers looked up from their labour and, out of a pair some ways closer to the house, one peeled off and began heading for the door.
As Zarina braved the path to the mansion after passing through the damaged gate, she considered arming herself for what may come. Gardening tools, sticks, anything that caught her eye was evaluated. But, as she got to the thematic mismatch of a mansion, she had decided against it. If magic was at play, it would be pointless, she determined. A worker had moved that way as well and she expected some sort of greeting, ranging from warm to hostile. Pokerfaced, she had to keep her thoughts and feelings close to the vest for now.
The worker, however, merely glanced back at her and redoubled his pace, slipping through the door without pausing. The road ahead stretched out wide and dusty, puddles glistening in the sunken areas where the sugarcane sprouted, row upon verdant green row.
Zarina's eyebrows furrowed. An outdoor worker entering a lord's home so swiftly was unusual to be sure. Enough so to have the intruding foreigner act cautious, for once. Instead of simply entering, she hugged the pearly white walls and peeked into any opening or window, starting with the door to search for any potential breathing from a potential ambusher. She was, frankly, on edge now.
There came the indistinct sound of voice from inside, but no clear sign of an ambush. Then, it was about twenty seconds more before purposeful footsteps sounded and İnşirah could be seen approaching.
With the coast clear, Zarina sighed and placed herself before the entrance before politely knocking. She waited by the door, occasionally peering into the nearest window for anything out of the ordinary.
The door opened more or less the moment that she touched it, İnşirah appearing behind on the other side before stepping through. She did not waste time with greetings. "They are in an uproar," she said simply. "Swear to me now, in Dami's name, that your words are true."
Zarina blinked, surprised. “Erm.” the hesitation was more than evident, but her answer came swiftly. “Yes, I solemnly swear,” she internally winced at the seriousness of it all. “on Dami's name, that I speak the truth.” with that, she stared down the one standing between her and the interior.. “What's going on?”
İnşirah slipped outside and, in fact, closed the door behind her. "The chieftain's daughter burst into our house with the news and my brother is now in a state of chaos." She regarded Zarina, up and down. "I say this not to be rude, but because it may be important and I hope to find an ally." There was a brief pause. "Who are you and why are you here?"
Zarina took in the information and the second-worst case scenario had occurred. To be expected, but still a headache. It was her fault. She wasn't going to say it was without it being a necessity, however. “Special inquisitor Zarina Al-Nader.” she answered, her good arm behind her back and her voice as solemn as her vow. “I'm not sure the title holds after what occurred, but that's my last known post.”
İnşirah studied her a moment and then released a breath that, perhaps, she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Then you are with us. Finally, someone I can rely on in this Ipce-forsaken hellhole." She rubbed at the bridge of her nose and managed a tired smile. "Your friend there, Emel..." İnşirah trailed off. "She does not strike me as an inquisitor."
Zarina clenched her fist behind her back upon being recognized as an ally. She was very much of two minds here and with few that would actually side with her, she believed. “She isn't.” she clarified, once again peering into any nearby window in the hopes of assessing anything at all. “She a lady from Ceboyan. An invitee of the Royal Palace ball. I tried to get her out,” a slightly vacant look could be found in Zarina's eyes. “but I'm not sure what happened after.”
"And so you have the Gift?" İnşirah asked, though it was not truly a question.
Zarina pursed her lips and peered down for a second. The silence and gestures said it all.
“For good reason.”
"They've fed you the oil?" She released her breath in a hiss. "Then it is safe to assume that they left you here for a reason." There was not yet suspicion in her voice - merely curiosity. "Have you any idea?"
Zarina shrugged. “My best guess is to see what's unfolding here.” she folded her arms in anticipation of some pushback. “And maybe have a part in the outcome. I assume, since I'm alive, they're interested in seeing what I'll do.”
The Agha's daughter cracked a hint of a smile. "Well, that was their first mistake." She shook her head. "A blessed one for you, and for us, for I do not know you and am glad, still, that those savages did not do worse." She offered something like a supportive look. "They are chaotic and incorrigible, like children." She shook her head again, "and my brother is no better, I fear." She shrugged. "He has been that way ever since the academy."
She paused, and the workers toiled in the fields and the cicadas hummed and the roof of the great verandah protected Zarina from the glare of the afternoon sun. "Sister, we must get them to sign the papers before news of the killings down south reaches here, or they will be emboldened and it will be our corpses hanging from those trees just there." She motioned in the direction of the banyan trees that lined one part of the road. "Can I rely on you in this?" Her gaze was not quite pleading, but it was searching. She saw, in the form of Zarina and, perhaps, Emel, hope.
Zarina stepped to the side and distributed her gaze between the fields, the house and the agha's daughter, Insirah. “The people here nursed me back to health.” the mere thought of her chest and shoulder prompted a little rotation of the joint. “Well, as much as they could without the gift. They're quite distinct from those I've had to deal with down south.”
"But do you not feel how little they know?" İnşirah shook her head. "How much they might benefit from being guided towards civilization?" She scowled and shrugged. "As they are, they will not make it there on their own. They will need us. They will need a push."
Zarina inhaled. “They can benefit from your help and guidance, yes.” she admitted, but a big 'but' was inevitable with the tone she used. “The question is, how are you going to do that? How did you go about this so far?”
İnşirah arched an eyebrow. Was doubt creeping back in as to where Zarina's loyalties lay? "We provide them with a port and a market for their goods and responsible rule." She blinked. "What else is there at this stage? Rule of law and some measure of discipline? My brother's strength so they might be defended in times of crisis?" She shrugged. "Anything further will have to wait, and first we must weather this storm, nice though it is to dream."
Zarina listened, her gaze evaluative. Once she had her answer, she nodded. “Thank you for answering. When I return to Virang, I have the intention of sharing the modern practices of our company. To the Sultan, more specifically.” she stated, her hand reaching for the close door beside them. “Maybe a discussion is in order, one I can try to arbitrate?” she smiled. “I can promise you that my intention remain in the interest of our home, my lady.”
The agha's daughter put a shoulder gently into Zarina as she demonstrated her impatience. "Be wary of your tone around Şirmerd," she warned, voice barely above a whisper, "He is prickly, and there is a skill to managing him."
Zarina nodded in understanding. “I'll be considerate and follow your lead.”
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