Mahal Agha
"I wasn't expecting you. Truthfully, I thought maybe a hegelan had happened across the cabin and took shelter."
The Palaparese Revolution: Chapter 3
Location: Palapar
Familiar Faces in the Snow
Mahal's wrapped hand pressed into her brow and shielded her vision from the snow. She squinted hard enough to make out the cabin's faint silhouette. Soon, she'd be sitting by a fire and warming her frozen bones. The thought drove her onward. Her foot lifted and trudged through the thick snow as she tried to spot Sikuaq roosting nearby.
No sharp chirp of excitement greeted her or flurry of wings clashed with her skin. This absence of greeting caused Mahal to frown. Her eyes looked closer at the cabin. She then noticed the faint signs of smoke trailing from the chimney.
She adjusted her sack across her shoulder, trying to recall who else knew about this place. Nothing came to mind. It didn't surprised her since the last few days had become a blur over all.
With a heavy sigh, Mahal pushed onward. She'd let the stranger wait out the mild storm before chasing them off her property. Then she would set out to find her snow wyvern and bring her back here, apologizing in the form of jerky treats. Her mitt slammed into the wood as it knocked away the white strips plastered on it.
"Whoever you are, open up. I can see someone's in there."
The man within looked to the door, he was the only one in at the moment. He heaved a sigh and stood up from his stool. Looking to his companion within the cabin and chuckling as he threw a piece of his jerky to the dragon.
While it would be expected ot be those with him in this hidden place, many were moving right now and preparing for what was to come. Yet he was here just spending some time thinking how things needed to go.
He began to stand and walk towards the door, as he opened he greeted the gracious host with, "Well hello, there, long time no see".
There stood Black King, the volti who met Mahal no more than a few days ago.
He took a light side step to the side as he gestured in, "Come in, come in. It is warm inside".
Sikuaq's head snapped up the offered jerky as she gobbled it down greedily. Her clawed wing tip pinning the morsel down while her beak ripped into smaller pieces. She had allowed this human, with offerings of meat, to exist in her domain. Her feathered head perked up when she heard the door creak open.
Mahal's dark eyes widened when she came face to face with a familiar man. She cursed her forgetfulness as he spoke, gesturing her inside. How could she forget she had given him this location? Knowing her regret changed nothing, the woman's expression relaxed and she stepped inside. The warmth of the interior melted the icy pricking in her lungs causing her to be grateful to be out of the snow and cold.
"I wasn't expecting you. Truthfully, I thought maybe a hegelan had happened across the cabin and took shelter."
Her gaze turned to the Snow Wyvern who chirped at her. It didn't take her long to notice the small, dried chunks of meat smeared across the beak. "Makes sense now how she let you get close.. Are you the only one here?"
Black King chuckled at Mahal's surprise to see him, "Well I hope this one is more welcomed than a random passerby".
He began to sit as he lightly nodded and threw another piece to the Snow Wyvern as he nodded to Mahal's question, "For now I am, yes".
His gaze then turned to Mahal, "And you?"
"I'm not sure this cramped place can hold that many at once. I'll have to figure out how to expand the room and patch up the cracks." She tried not to cringe at the thought of it, realizing the place needed a lot of improvements. That was a problem for another time as she considered his choices of subject.
"Did you expect it to?" Mahal scoffed a bit, her hand reached out and tenderly brushed alongside Sikauq's neck feathers, " If Lunara wasn't there, I'm sure it would be worse."
Her hand pulled back and rubbed the inside of her other. "Some times it surprises me how I'm still alive. I think it is because I'm afraid to die or maybe that my ancestors refuse to take me.... Not that it matters. That aside, I'm sure the elite will forget about you and the rebellion before too long. It wouldn't surprise me if they think it all failed like others."
He chuckled slightly, Black King shook his head as he said, "Living is the hardest task the gods task us to do-"
His gaze turned to the fire as he continued, "-yet it is something we all wish to do. Somewhere deep down".
He looked back to Mahal as he continued, "Yes, I'm sure they will think of us as nothing more than some wanna-be revolutionists who got sick and died in the forest"
He shook his head as he continued, "Either way, I must thank you again for this location. While not idealic in weather, it works to our advantage. As few would dare venture here without cause and purpose".
He looked to Mahal once more, "Do you regret it? Joining in this fight?"
"Yes, not many islanders enjoy the cold." Mahal shifted her body to the right. She reached into her pouch and withdrew two jerky strips. Sikuaq sniffed and puffed out, recognizing the scent. She stared hard at the meat with an expecting look. With a sigh, Mahal tossed the greedy creature one of her pieces while she took a bite of her own. "You act like I don't feed you pounds of meat whenever I come up here, Sikuaq." She chided between chews.
After finishing it, she grabbed another and offered it to him. "Even if I did, it changes nothing. I'm in it for better or worse. Looking back with regret doesn't solve problems, but creates hesitation. I rarely think of what's to come because what happens now matters the most to me."
Her right hand turned over as her left hand's thumb traced the palm. Despite its pristine appearance, she had memories of it being severed from her arm. The image remained fresh in her mind. She recalled from the way the skin twitched down to the dulling color. She barely recalled what she stole, but she knew the reason.
Black nodded, "I understand that. What needs to be done in the now is often times as hard as to think what is to come, sometimes too daunting for many".
He looked to the hungry dragon as he continued. "Some are cursed with minds that think too hard on 'what-ifs' as if they are what will come. Things can change, it just takes those who are willing to do what is needed now".
He took a moment as grabbed some jerky from his bag. Throwing the piece to the dragon as he looked to Mahal, "I've been curious, has anything happened where you are during this time? I assume not as there hasn't been any reports".
Her eyes met his, a sign of respect, while she paused to think.
"Things have been going back to normal mostly. However, Lunara has been determined to make changes in the elite circles. I don't see her much difference with individuals like my father and Virang in charge."
She leaned back against the wall as the cold contrasted against the cabin's warmth. "I heard my father talking with one of his associates. Rumors about Baykara heading back to Virang and a banquet at the Queen's palace. It's in honor of 'peace'." Mahal's lip curled at the very word.
Black King began to nod his head, "Ah, yes, a banquet of peace. Peace among Virang and who Virang put upon a pedestal".
He chuckled a moment as he continued, "However, their proclivity for decadence will be an opportunity for us".
Mahal found herself agreeing with the masked man. Most of the elite fell into this area, but a few broke the tradition and her half-sister seemed like one. Her right eyebrow arched at the man's chuckle before she spoke. "How so?"
Curiosity filtered out in her tone causing her to draw it back. Her hands had started to rub her arms, the friction warming her chilled skin. After gulping down her last chunk of meat, Sikuaq fluttered up into the rafter. Her weight caused the wood to creak as she tucked her slender head beneath her wing. Despite her act, one of her eyes still remained semi open to observe them causing the woman to shake her head.
Black King chuckled slightly at Mahal's curiosity seeming to get the best of her. He decided to satiate it, "Well so many of those who need to be done away with will be there. I suppose it would be a good time to do it".
While hints of darkness could be heard. It was not as if his tone changed all that much. After all, killing was something that had to happen. If this was to be a bloodless revolution, it would have never needed to come as far as it had.
"It might, or make it worse." Mahal's eyes turned down, finding the floor. A seriousness fell over her as it contrasted with his dark humor. "Lunara wants to change things her way, using more passive ways. I doubt it will work. When it doesn't, she's not the type to apply violence when needed."
She watched a small wall of mist form from her breath. " Someone has to do it for her. And that someone will have to be me... As much as I hate to admit it."
Black King nodded his head, "Yes, some wish to do things with complete moral goodness".
He nodded some more as he turned to the fire, "Yet you are right. Someone must perform what must be done. For that is our role. To pave the way, so someone may do it 'the right way'".
He chuckled at the last part. Right and wrong seem all to muddied. Especially during their time.
"I wonder, what would you wish to become. Once everything is over".
The question wasn't one Mahal expected so she had no real answer for it. All her life she had been taught by her own father she was worthless and weak. If the Black King had asked her before she came to Ersand'Enise, she'd scoffed then walked away. Never giving the question any deeper thought.
Now...
"Truthfully, I was told I was weak and worthless. Nothing I did changed it." Her thoughts turned to the nights she stared up in the stars, cold and hungry. "I never gave it thought until now. It's hard to know what is possible."
Black King allowed a moment to pass after he listened to Mahal's words. He turned to her and lightly gave a response, "Think on it then. After all, this work is not just for Palapar. It is for you as well. This is going to pave a path for a future for you to see and live in. Not just for others".
Black King began to stand and walked towards the door, "Remember that, and give some thought on what you want to be. As the future is the 2nd hardest thing the Gods ask of us to strive towards".
He then turned to Mahal, "I'll be heading out to gather some supplies. You said you wished to make some improvements to the cabin. With you just arriving to the cabin from the cold, I'll head out and secure the materials while you warm up".
He placed his hand over his chest and gave a light bow as he opened the door. The cold white outside made him cut a striking figure. His black clothing being all too easily seen. Yet after stepping out, the colors blended so quickly. His once striking figure disappeared into the white nothing as if he was never there. After which, the door closed, by something hard to say was ever there.
No sharp chirp of excitement greeted her or flurry of wings clashed with her skin. This absence of greeting caused Mahal to frown. Her eyes looked closer at the cabin. She then noticed the faint signs of smoke trailing from the chimney.
She adjusted her sack across her shoulder, trying to recall who else knew about this place. Nothing came to mind. It didn't surprised her since the last few days had become a blur over all.
With a heavy sigh, Mahal pushed onward. She'd let the stranger wait out the mild storm before chasing them off her property. Then she would set out to find her snow wyvern and bring her back here, apologizing in the form of jerky treats. Her mitt slammed into the wood as it knocked away the white strips plastered on it.
"Whoever you are, open up. I can see someone's in there."
The man within looked to the door, he was the only one in at the moment. He heaved a sigh and stood up from his stool. Looking to his companion within the cabin and chuckling as he threw a piece of his jerky to the dragon.
While it would be expected ot be those with him in this hidden place, many were moving right now and preparing for what was to come. Yet he was here just spending some time thinking how things needed to go.
He began to stand and walk towards the door, as he opened he greeted the gracious host with, "Well hello, there, long time no see".
There stood Black King, the volti who met Mahal no more than a few days ago.
He took a light side step to the side as he gestured in, "Come in, come in. It is warm inside".
Sikuaq's head snapped up the offered jerky as she gobbled it down greedily. Her clawed wing tip pinning the morsel down while her beak ripped into smaller pieces. She had allowed this human, with offerings of meat, to exist in her domain. Her feathered head perked up when she heard the door creak open.
Mahal's dark eyes widened when she came face to face with a familiar man. She cursed her forgetfulness as he spoke, gesturing her inside. How could she forget she had given him this location? Knowing her regret changed nothing, the woman's expression relaxed and she stepped inside. The warmth of the interior melted the icy pricking in her lungs causing her to be grateful to be out of the snow and cold.
"I wasn't expecting you. Truthfully, I thought maybe a hegelan had happened across the cabin and took shelter."
Her gaze turned to the Snow Wyvern who chirped at her. It didn't take her long to notice the small, dried chunks of meat smeared across the beak. "Makes sense now how she let you get close.. Are you the only one here?"
Black King chuckled at Mahal's surprise to see him, "Well I hope this one is more welcomed than a random passerby".
He began to sit as he lightly nodded and threw another piece to the Snow Wyvern as he nodded to Mahal's question, "For now I am, yes".
His gaze then turned to Mahal, "And you?"
"I'm not sure this cramped place can hold that many at once. I'll have to figure out how to expand the room and patch up the cracks." She tried not to cringe at the thought of it, realizing the place needed a lot of improvements. That was a problem for another time as she considered his choices of subject.
"Did you expect it to?" Mahal scoffed a bit, her hand reached out and tenderly brushed alongside Sikauq's neck feathers, " If Lunara wasn't there, I'm sure it would be worse."
Her hand pulled back and rubbed the inside of her other. "Some times it surprises me how I'm still alive. I think it is because I'm afraid to die or maybe that my ancestors refuse to take me.... Not that it matters. That aside, I'm sure the elite will forget about you and the rebellion before too long. It wouldn't surprise me if they think it all failed like others."
He chuckled slightly, Black King shook his head as he said, "Living is the hardest task the gods task us to do-"
His gaze turned to the fire as he continued, "-yet it is something we all wish to do. Somewhere deep down".
He looked back to Mahal as he continued, "Yes, I'm sure they will think of us as nothing more than some wanna-be revolutionists who got sick and died in the forest"
He shook his head as he continued, "Either way, I must thank you again for this location. While not idealic in weather, it works to our advantage. As few would dare venture here without cause and purpose".
He looked to Mahal once more, "Do you regret it? Joining in this fight?"
"Yes, not many islanders enjoy the cold." Mahal shifted her body to the right. She reached into her pouch and withdrew two jerky strips. Sikuaq sniffed and puffed out, recognizing the scent. She stared hard at the meat with an expecting look. With a sigh, Mahal tossed the greedy creature one of her pieces while she took a bite of her own. "You act like I don't feed you pounds of meat whenever I come up here, Sikuaq." She chided between chews.
After finishing it, she grabbed another and offered it to him. "Even if I did, it changes nothing. I'm in it for better or worse. Looking back with regret doesn't solve problems, but creates hesitation. I rarely think of what's to come because what happens now matters the most to me."
Her right hand turned over as her left hand's thumb traced the palm. Despite its pristine appearance, she had memories of it being severed from her arm. The image remained fresh in her mind. She recalled from the way the skin twitched down to the dulling color. She barely recalled what she stole, but she knew the reason.
Black nodded, "I understand that. What needs to be done in the now is often times as hard as to think what is to come, sometimes too daunting for many".
He looked to the hungry dragon as he continued. "Some are cursed with minds that think too hard on 'what-ifs' as if they are what will come. Things can change, it just takes those who are willing to do what is needed now".
He took a moment as grabbed some jerky from his bag. Throwing the piece to the dragon as he looked to Mahal, "I've been curious, has anything happened where you are during this time? I assume not as there hasn't been any reports".
Her eyes met his, a sign of respect, while she paused to think.
"Things have been going back to normal mostly. However, Lunara has been determined to make changes in the elite circles. I don't see her much difference with individuals like my father and Virang in charge."
She leaned back against the wall as the cold contrasted against the cabin's warmth. "I heard my father talking with one of his associates. Rumors about Baykara heading back to Virang and a banquet at the Queen's palace. It's in honor of 'peace'." Mahal's lip curled at the very word.
Black King began to nod his head, "Ah, yes, a banquet of peace. Peace among Virang and who Virang put upon a pedestal".
He chuckled a moment as he continued, "However, their proclivity for decadence will be an opportunity for us".
Mahal found herself agreeing with the masked man. Most of the elite fell into this area, but a few broke the tradition and her half-sister seemed like one. Her right eyebrow arched at the man's chuckle before she spoke. "How so?"
Curiosity filtered out in her tone causing her to draw it back. Her hands had started to rub her arms, the friction warming her chilled skin. After gulping down her last chunk of meat, Sikuaq fluttered up into the rafter. Her weight caused the wood to creak as she tucked her slender head beneath her wing. Despite her act, one of her eyes still remained semi open to observe them causing the woman to shake her head.
Black King chuckled slightly at Mahal's curiosity seeming to get the best of her. He decided to satiate it, "Well so many of those who need to be done away with will be there. I suppose it would be a good time to do it".
While hints of darkness could be heard. It was not as if his tone changed all that much. After all, killing was something that had to happen. If this was to be a bloodless revolution, it would have never needed to come as far as it had.
"It might, or make it worse." Mahal's eyes turned down, finding the floor. A seriousness fell over her as it contrasted with his dark humor. "Lunara wants to change things her way, using more passive ways. I doubt it will work. When it doesn't, she's not the type to apply violence when needed."
She watched a small wall of mist form from her breath. " Someone has to do it for her. And that someone will have to be me... As much as I hate to admit it."
Black King nodded his head, "Yes, some wish to do things with complete moral goodness".
He nodded some more as he turned to the fire, "Yet you are right. Someone must perform what must be done. For that is our role. To pave the way, so someone may do it 'the right way'".
He chuckled at the last part. Right and wrong seem all to muddied. Especially during their time.
"I wonder, what would you wish to become. Once everything is over".
The question wasn't one Mahal expected so she had no real answer for it. All her life she had been taught by her own father she was worthless and weak. If the Black King had asked her before she came to Ersand'Enise, she'd scoffed then walked away. Never giving the question any deeper thought.
Now...
"Truthfully, I was told I was weak and worthless. Nothing I did changed it." Her thoughts turned to the nights she stared up in the stars, cold and hungry. "I never gave it thought until now. It's hard to know what is possible."
Black King allowed a moment to pass after he listened to Mahal's words. He turned to her and lightly gave a response, "Think on it then. After all, this work is not just for Palapar. It is for you as well. This is going to pave a path for a future for you to see and live in. Not just for others".
Black King began to stand and walked towards the door, "Remember that, and give some thought on what you want to be. As the future is the 2nd hardest thing the Gods ask of us to strive towards".
He then turned to Mahal, "I'll be heading out to gather some supplies. You said you wished to make some improvements to the cabin. With you just arriving to the cabin from the cold, I'll head out and secure the materials while you warm up".
He placed his hand over his chest and gave a light bow as he opened the door. The cold white outside made him cut a striking figure. His black clothing being all too easily seen. Yet after stepping out, the colors blended so quickly. His once striking figure disappeared into the white nothing as if he was never there. After which, the door closed, by something hard to say was ever there.
Exile's End
The decision had been a hotly contested one. Some maintained at the time - and continued to - that Kalingnan was a vital position at the heart of the island's southern half, that they ought to have held it at all costs, to pressure the capital and continue to draw more recruits to their cause. Some maintained that leaving it had been a mistake that would see them crushed. These called upon their brethren to see to their moral duty. They could not allow their brothers in arms in the capital and its nearby environs to perish at the hands of their Virangish oppressors. They could not allow the tyranny continue for so much as a moment longer.
Others understood the nature of regime change somewhat better. Others, had further irons in the fire: irons that they were eager to use but that they best knew were applied with patience, just as they had been heated and shaped. Beneath its apparently cooling surface, Palapar bubbled. Palapar seethed. Perhaps, in the past, Ren Baykara's show of brutality, at the behest of Piyale Karga and Ertan Kashani (though the latter would never admit to it), might've been enough to cow them. This was the case no longer and, so, as those in the capital prepared for a celebration in two days' time, as most (though not all) began to relax, they trickled in towards the city: that swelling number of rebels from the countryside.
Some were discontented tenant farmers or freeholders, dockworkers, bandits, remnants of broken families. Others had heard of the twin massacres at San Sameno: how two brave Revidians had stood up to Virangish tyranny alongside their own, and how dozens had been killed for the simple crime of commemorating the dead and wishing, themselves, to live on.
Literacy was not very high in Palapar, for it was not to the benefit of those in charge that those beneath them should be able to read. Yet, through scratchings and crude paintings on walls, by word of mouth and secret message, news of the atrocities spread, as did the notion that they had somehow been both too much and not enough, as did - further - that Ren Baykara had scampered off to Virang to celebrate his victory and move onto his next heinous act against more familiar peoples.
They toasted each other in their hilltop mansions. Their ships, plundered less than a month prior, grew fat with riches in Arangal harbour. They even prepared a banquet in the queen's palace, in honour of the 'peace'. Oh, certainly, Lunara Agha had come to the capital, a firebrand, but one could not undo so much inertia in mere weeks, and particularly when it appeared that brutality had paid dividends. Was the queen with the Virangish or against them? That was a question that weighed on many minds across the country, though particularly on those of the men and women who had committed themselves to overthrowing their unwelcome overlords. Of course... there were a handful who knew the answer...
After the cabin encounter, Mahal witnessed her sister's push for change among the elites. While Lunara held out hope, Mahal's cynical nature knew better. It came as no surprise when nothing seemed to happened. Their father knew the outcome and did nothing to aid, but he left Lunara to learn the cold truth. Nothing changes in Palapar.
Not until now.
While her sister wanted to avoid violence, Mahal saw it as the only way to open the eyes of the ignorant. She just had to ensure Lunara or her loved ones didn't become victims of it.
Her opportunity came when her father planned a trip to the capital. She merely tagged along on the condition she remained out of sight and mind. That seemed easy enough depending if her role allowed it.
Two days before the celebrations, Mahal took a nightly stroll into the city. Her hands gripped the ledge of her window as she silently plummeted to the ground. Upon hitting the flagstones, her hounds rushed to her side and together they melted into the shadows. Lamp lighter and individuals seemed to stalk along the paths causing her to get lost not once, but three times. When Mahal finally reached her destination, she leaned against the filthy wall and rested. Someone was suppose to meet her here. Who, she didn't know... but the why was obvious. Her role in this coming event needed to be clear.
A taller figure appeared from the shadows and rest against the wall. Still masked in shadows the voice of a woman cut the silence. Her accent was different to what would be heard in Palapar, the woman had a very thick Perrench accent.
"Good evening", the woman spoke with a cheerful voice.
She allowed a moment of pleasantries before she continued, "So I assume you already know what is happening?"
Mahal tensed when she heard the woman's voice. Supok and Puno bristled at the unfamiliar voice as their lips pulled back and fangs flashed. Her hand held, commanding them to stay. Obediently, their haunches curled and they sat. However, their eyes never strayed from the voice's source.
Her eyes squinted into the darkness, but saw nothing. A moment passed before she broke the silence. "Evening. And some of it, but not everything. Maybe you could help fill in what I'm missing?"
She wasn't sure if this woman was the one she was suppose to meet or not. So she kept her words close to her chest, treading lightly in the conversation.
The woman coo'd at Supok and Puno, "What beauties' you have!"
She chuckled slightly as she got back onto topic, "Perfect, so we don't have to dally on the basics. Your job is actually quite simple. Before the party starts, your job will be to get 'guests' in".
The woman nodded to herself as she continued, "After that you will just be having a good time, talk to VIPs, ensure they have a good time. After which before the fun begins, ensure that you can move them away from the dance floor. Such as your sister and mother and a few other note worthy persons. It will get crowded quickly and some people are better than taking on such a hectic dance".
She slightly chuckled, seeming quite chuffed with herself as she lightly handed a piece of paper to Mahal, "As the boss says, some people are better dance partners in the court than outside of it. However some are more agreeable when they witness both".
Though she should've felt on edge, a sense of pride filled Mahal at the comment of her hounds. She continued to listen to the woman as she took the list, tucking the paper somewhere safe. Without using magic, which risked drawing attention, she couldn't read it in the dark.
"Sounds simple enough. What happens if some of them... refuse to be led off the dance floor or jump back into? I doubt all of them will listen to me and I don't think using force will look good." She knew her sister would be one of the few who would try to save someone caught in the bloodbath.
The woman thought for a moment as she lightly tapped her face with her finger. After a bit of time of her thinking she finally answered, "Well most of the other dancers don't care who they find as partners. So I think you will be having to be doing the escorting alone. However I think most will find it hard to want to compete with some of the dancers once it gets started".
"Ugh. Not exactly what I wanted to hear, but I'm not surprised." Mahal grumbled. She pulled back and peaked out from the alley toward either of the connected paths. The only signs of light was someone with a torch, climbing to light the posts that had been snuffed out. They seemed still a fair distance away causing her to exhale with relief.
Her attention turned back to the woman. "I hope so. People can be unwise at the worst of times. Is there a signal when the dance starts or is it happening at a certain time?"
The woman chuckled slightly as she said slyly, "Oh you'll know when it'll happen. The big man always loves making a flashy entrance. Do be warned though, you might feel weak in the knees when it happens. You should already be out of there before it really gets to you for what its worth".
"It won't be the first or the last I'll have to endure that sensation." Mahal knew too well what it felt like be helpless at the feet of someone powerful. A flicker of memories entered her head, but she shrugged it away. No matter what, she always managed to survive somehow. Reaching down to rub Supok's head, she then added. "I'll try, but some times what we want and what happens are two different things. I suppose that's all I need to know then unless you forgot to mention something?"
The woman tossed her head side to side for a moment before she said, "Nope, nothing else the boss wants to pass along. You got everything for the job, so I'll be taking my leave". The woman sat in the shadows as she gave a light nod and a wave before she sank deeper into them. Seeming to disappear entirely.
Mahal rubbed Supok's ear a bit more before she took her own leave. With a soft whistle, the two hounds perked up and darted after her. The three shadowy figures moved down the alley and into the street, reaching her current home quickly. Her thoughts focused on the short goals, but she forgot the possible consequences. A flaw she'd reap the rewards of sooner than later.
Others understood the nature of regime change somewhat better. Others, had further irons in the fire: irons that they were eager to use but that they best knew were applied with patience, just as they had been heated and shaped. Beneath its apparently cooling surface, Palapar bubbled. Palapar seethed. Perhaps, in the past, Ren Baykara's show of brutality, at the behest of Piyale Karga and Ertan Kashani (though the latter would never admit to it), might've been enough to cow them. This was the case no longer and, so, as those in the capital prepared for a celebration in two days' time, as most (though not all) began to relax, they trickled in towards the city: that swelling number of rebels from the countryside.
Some were discontented tenant farmers or freeholders, dockworkers, bandits, remnants of broken families. Others had heard of the twin massacres at San Sameno: how two brave Revidians had stood up to Virangish tyranny alongside their own, and how dozens had been killed for the simple crime of commemorating the dead and wishing, themselves, to live on.
Literacy was not very high in Palapar, for it was not to the benefit of those in charge that those beneath them should be able to read. Yet, through scratchings and crude paintings on walls, by word of mouth and secret message, news of the atrocities spread, as did the notion that they had somehow been both too much and not enough, as did - further - that Ren Baykara had scampered off to Virang to celebrate his victory and move onto his next heinous act against more familiar peoples.
They toasted each other in their hilltop mansions. Their ships, plundered less than a month prior, grew fat with riches in Arangal harbour. They even prepared a banquet in the queen's palace, in honour of the 'peace'. Oh, certainly, Lunara Agha had come to the capital, a firebrand, but one could not undo so much inertia in mere weeks, and particularly when it appeared that brutality had paid dividends. Was the queen with the Virangish or against them? That was a question that weighed on many minds across the country, though particularly on those of the men and women who had committed themselves to overthrowing their unwelcome overlords. Of course... there were a handful who knew the answer...
After the cabin encounter, Mahal witnessed her sister's push for change among the elites. While Lunara held out hope, Mahal's cynical nature knew better. It came as no surprise when nothing seemed to happened. Their father knew the outcome and did nothing to aid, but he left Lunara to learn the cold truth. Nothing changes in Palapar.
Not until now.
While her sister wanted to avoid violence, Mahal saw it as the only way to open the eyes of the ignorant. She just had to ensure Lunara or her loved ones didn't become victims of it.
Her opportunity came when her father planned a trip to the capital. She merely tagged along on the condition she remained out of sight and mind. That seemed easy enough depending if her role allowed it.
Two days before the celebrations, Mahal took a nightly stroll into the city. Her hands gripped the ledge of her window as she silently plummeted to the ground. Upon hitting the flagstones, her hounds rushed to her side and together they melted into the shadows. Lamp lighter and individuals seemed to stalk along the paths causing her to get lost not once, but three times. When Mahal finally reached her destination, she leaned against the filthy wall and rested. Someone was suppose to meet her here. Who, she didn't know... but the why was obvious. Her role in this coming event needed to be clear.
A taller figure appeared from the shadows and rest against the wall. Still masked in shadows the voice of a woman cut the silence. Her accent was different to what would be heard in Palapar, the woman had a very thick Perrench accent.
"Good evening", the woman spoke with a cheerful voice.
She allowed a moment of pleasantries before she continued, "So I assume you already know what is happening?"
Mahal tensed when she heard the woman's voice. Supok and Puno bristled at the unfamiliar voice as their lips pulled back and fangs flashed. Her hand held, commanding them to stay. Obediently, their haunches curled and they sat. However, their eyes never strayed from the voice's source.
Her eyes squinted into the darkness, but saw nothing. A moment passed before she broke the silence. "Evening. And some of it, but not everything. Maybe you could help fill in what I'm missing?"
She wasn't sure if this woman was the one she was suppose to meet or not. So she kept her words close to her chest, treading lightly in the conversation.
The woman coo'd at Supok and Puno, "What beauties' you have!"
She chuckled slightly as she got back onto topic, "Perfect, so we don't have to dally on the basics. Your job is actually quite simple. Before the party starts, your job will be to get 'guests' in".
The woman nodded to herself as she continued, "After that you will just be having a good time, talk to VIPs, ensure they have a good time. After which before the fun begins, ensure that you can move them away from the dance floor. Such as your sister and mother and a few other note worthy persons. It will get crowded quickly and some people are better than taking on such a hectic dance".
She slightly chuckled, seeming quite chuffed with herself as she lightly handed a piece of paper to Mahal, "As the boss says, some people are better dance partners in the court than outside of it. However some are more agreeable when they witness both".
Though she should've felt on edge, a sense of pride filled Mahal at the comment of her hounds. She continued to listen to the woman as she took the list, tucking the paper somewhere safe. Without using magic, which risked drawing attention, she couldn't read it in the dark.
"Sounds simple enough. What happens if some of them... refuse to be led off the dance floor or jump back into? I doubt all of them will listen to me and I don't think using force will look good." She knew her sister would be one of the few who would try to save someone caught in the bloodbath.
The woman thought for a moment as she lightly tapped her face with her finger. After a bit of time of her thinking she finally answered, "Well most of the other dancers don't care who they find as partners. So I think you will be having to be doing the escorting alone. However I think most will find it hard to want to compete with some of the dancers once it gets started".
"Ugh. Not exactly what I wanted to hear, but I'm not surprised." Mahal grumbled. She pulled back and peaked out from the alley toward either of the connected paths. The only signs of light was someone with a torch, climbing to light the posts that had been snuffed out. They seemed still a fair distance away causing her to exhale with relief.
Her attention turned back to the woman. "I hope so. People can be unwise at the worst of times. Is there a signal when the dance starts or is it happening at a certain time?"
The woman chuckled slightly as she said slyly, "Oh you'll know when it'll happen. The big man always loves making a flashy entrance. Do be warned though, you might feel weak in the knees when it happens. You should already be out of there before it really gets to you for what its worth".
"It won't be the first or the last I'll have to endure that sensation." Mahal knew too well what it felt like be helpless at the feet of someone powerful. A flicker of memories entered her head, but she shrugged it away. No matter what, she always managed to survive somehow. Reaching down to rub Supok's head, she then added. "I'll try, but some times what we want and what happens are two different things. I suppose that's all I need to know then unless you forgot to mention something?"
The woman tossed her head side to side for a moment before she said, "Nope, nothing else the boss wants to pass along. You got everything for the job, so I'll be taking my leave". The woman sat in the shadows as she gave a light nod and a wave before she sank deeper into them. Seeming to disappear entirely.
Mahal rubbed Supok's ear a bit more before she took her own leave. With a soft whistle, the two hounds perked up and darted after her. The three shadowy figures moved down the alley and into the street, reaching her current home quickly. Her thoughts focused on the short goals, but she forgot the possible consequences. A flaw she'd reap the rewards of sooner than later.
Night of Short Knives: Palace
As agreed upon, Mahal stood off to one side of her family and avoided attention. She took in the gala's extravagant scene bit by bit. Guests stood in groups, their conversations fade in and out of the background music. Drinks tinged while gossip spread on loose lips. Underfoot, a few unruly gomas darted among the legs as they chased each other in circles. Eventually one chased the other up a tree display where they lounged among the foliage. Servers, burdened with trays, drifted between the guests offering them various delicacies.
A sense of isolation washed over her causing her anxieties to build. It danced on her skin until...
Her eyes found her father's glare. She lowered her eyes and moved out of sight, parting the crowd along the way. After plucking a glass from a passing tray, she pressed her back into a wall. It became obvious she didn't belong here.
Supok whined drawing Mahal's head to tilt down. Her gaze softened at the antsy pup causing her to gentle scratch the canine's ear. Taking a moment to center herself, Mahal inhaled and pushed down the apprehension. She sipped on the wine and let the familiar tingle bubble in the back of her mind. It wouldn't last long as she began to locate her targets.
Once their introductions ended, Ruslan offered his arm to his first wife, Dalma. Her slender arms looped into his as she kept pace with him. While guiding her through the crowds, he caught sight of Ceren on the outer edges. A warning glare sent her slithering into the crowds without a trace.
"Do you think they will show?" Dalma asked.
"Focus on the gala."
"Very well,"Dalma then spotted a friend and her husband. With a gentle tug, she pulled him closer and fell into conversation. A look exchanged between the men while they stood politely nearby. Half listening, Ruslan sampled a stuffed kicker snail from a tray.
Halah frowned at the girl in armor. "That's not fit for the gala. Is this some type of joke or tradition?"
Raffaella's introduction interrupted their conversation as all head turned toward her.
"Of course she would be here." The woman said, gesturing her glass toward the pink haired girl.
"You know her?" Ruslan broke his silence at last.
"Based on rumors, nothing more. Some sort of prophet or something. Personally, I wouldn't pay it much mind. I think she's some poor girl who's managed to gain some attention. It will fade with time."
"Curious. That cat is the largest I've seen. I wonder what breed it is. It's certain not a goma." Dalma commented while her eyes studied the large feline.
"With any luck, it might eat her." Halah jested as she sipped on her wine.
Another noble spoke, "Justice is a fine word, my lady, but the cost of such upheavel is high. You can't expect the economy to survive such generosity."
Lunara matching his dismissive tone with conviction, "And what cost will the next uprising bring? How long will your estates, your businesses, remain intact if the embers of this rebellion reignite, and worse, fueled by broken promises?"
A third noble asked, "You believe they'll return?"
"I know they will." Lunara nodded, "They left the Agha estate because they were willing to give us a chance at a peaceful resolution. Their trust will only extend so far before its fragility cracks and their ignored voices raise to battle cries."
"What would you propose?"
Lunara softened her tone, "Fair wages for their labor. Reasonable working hours. The chance to own land after years of servitude. These aren't radical demands; let us offer them a seat at the table, rather than see them tear the table apart."
"It is a calculated risk, stability through reform rather than suppression-an approach we've never tried."
Vizier Karga scoffed, "And who will enforce these changes? Who will bear the burden of convincing the courts?"
Lunara met his gaze with quiet intenisty, "I will. I've already begun. But I need allies-people of influence like yourselves to stand with me. Together, we can avert the next conflict before it begins."
The nobles who at this point surrounded the conversation, captivated by the topic had broke into chatter. The risks, consequences, benefits, interests, values, and the future of Palapar were all being laid out. A microcosm of beliefs battling to see who would side with her view and who would remain apart of the status quo.
Mahal knew time was ticking down as her eyes sought out her half-sister, Lunara. A familiar numbness washed over her and she detached from the scene around her. The party turned into a blur of colors, poor shapes, and sounds drifting from her attention. Where are you, Lunara? Her teeth gritted before she set the wine glass down on another tray. She needed a better position to survey the room.
An elder man stepped into her way. He continued to idly chat with two ladies, their eye batting back in a flirtatious manner. With a deep breath, Mahal flowed around him like water around an annoying rock. It was then she noticed a porter moving quickly through the party. Her eyes trailed ahead before her heart dropped. Lunara was near the vizier. With a quick whistle for Supok to follow, Mahal picked up her pace and pushed past the crowd. Catching sight of her, the porter fell back to let her handle this.
Upon reaching her half-sister, Mahal gently tapped her on the shoulder. "Sorry to interrupt, but Lunara, may I have a word with you... alone?"
Supok flipped about and pressed into Mahal's leg. Her head tilted to catch sight of her father watching them. Not good... Likely disliking what he saw, he sent Dalma to wait for him at the dance floor and then moved in to investigate. Things just got harder for her.
Lunara flicked her hair to the side as the crowd continued to chatter amongst themselves. Their waning and waxing on the issue was 'good'. It meant there was traction, and hope. As she was about to again readdress the issue to emphasize the need to act immediately her attention was tugged on by her dear sister Mahal.
"My dear sister what is it?" Lunara's eyebrows raised.
Mahal's eyes shifted to the elite's idle chit chat, their ranks divided. The progress was deceptive as they fluttered from one subject to another. In their eyes, the notion was easily entertained, but in practice harmful for them. She doubted it would progress past tonight's conversation. "I'm very anxious and I'm getting a bad feeling. We need to... leave."
By the time the words slipped from her mouth, their father loomed behind her. "Ceren..."
The mention of her name seemed harmless on the surface, but Mahal knew it was a warning. A warning to behave or suffer the consequences later. Instinctively, her eyes turned to face him and her voice burned against his icy words. "Father."
"You remember what we discussed, don't you? About not becoming a nuisance to Lunara?"
Or drawing attention to myself, Mahal added feeling trapped now.
The opulence of the gala drowned out any sense of grounded reality. It was difficult to see if any of what would be done here tonight wouldn't fall into some sort of 'dream' category. Elites waking up tomorrow, only to have been entertained by the gossip, whispers, and idle chat to keep them distracted from their real priority: managing their wealth.
The mixture of laughter, music, and glasses clinking kicked out much of Mahal's warning, 'something something, anxious, bad feeling.' Lunara asked, "What did you say?" Leaning in closer to Mahal, except for Ruslan as Ruslan did, interrupted. The two exchanged nothing close to pleasantries.
Lunara stepped forward as Ruslan wrapped up his command to Mahal, "Mahal isn’t a nuisance, Father. She’s family, and her presence is welcome." She held a firm gaze. "You, however, may go. I can manage without another reminder of my own capability."
Ruslan stiffened, then inclined his head slightly, his voice curt, "Very well. Do as you will, but tread carefully, Lunara." He turned and strode off.
Lunara turning back to Mahal, "What were you saying?"
Before Mahal could answer, a young woman emerged beside Lunara, "Lady Lunara?"
"And why, Lady Akamai, do you concern yourself with the plight of Palaparese laborers? Surely your own people have little stake in this reformation."
Maelea closed the gap more, lowering her voice, "Because justice is not confined by borders, Lady Lunara. Oppression anywhere fuels unrest everywhere. And because I know what it means to see others struggle while others revel in power and wealth." She stepped back and opened her arms to drive the point home that this gala was living proof of her words.
"You speak the truth. Perhaps you understand more than most here. If your intentions are true, your support could make all the difference. But know this Lady Akamai-I fight in favor of lives and justice. If you stand with me, you stand for that cause alone, not favor or position."
Maelea smiling warmly, "Then I stand with you, my lady." Some others spotted Lunara speaking with what appeared to be a noble. Their secret conversation intrigued the other nobles as they drew closer to Lunara and Mahal before Maelea slipped away back into the crowd. The others wanted to know about Lunara's plans, if she received support what would they get in return, and more.
Her stomach churned and she inhaled sharply. The price of her ignorance hit her hard. She wasn't the only one shook by her sudden disconnect with her magic. Supok, usually excitable and friendly, whimpered in discomfort. The canine pressed against her leg with a tremble. It was too late. As if to prove her point, a scream sliced through the party's atmosphere. It triggered an outright panic as people moved like animals fleeing a predator.
"Go, now!" Mahal commanded, pushing her sister ahead of her. Her next words turned to the firehound. "Supok, on me."
The firehound bristled and woofed. She rushed alongside the pair as they moved.
In the throes of a promising relationship to reformation, only to be punched out by the screeching of fearful people. The room went celebration to terror. Panic beset into the hearts of those preyed upon by the snakes in the room. Lunara's hand snatched by her sister and pushed ahead and commanded to "go!"
She saw her father turn toward those transforming the Gala into a massacre. The assaulters were strong in number and willing to cut anyone in their way. But how could Lunara leave when family remained behind? "No!" Lunara pushed Mahal back. "We need to get our father." The flood of people trying to escape divided Lunara and Mahal across from where Ruslan stood. Pushing through would be a fight in it of itself.
Mahal dug in her heels at her sister's resistance. Her teeth gritted and anger glared back. This wasn't the time to fight her! She glanced back to where their father disappeared among the stampede of people. She drew closer once more. "We're not getting to him that way. Father can handle himself. Trust me, right now, I need to get you somewhere safe first."
Iron flashed in Mahal's peripheral causing her to shove Lunara away from her. "Go, NOW!" She growled, turning to face the attacker. It was an elderly man, his hand tightened about a machete, then raised it again to strike. Mahal screamed. "GET OUTSIDE, NOW! I'll get father."
"Oh, he's so adorable." Dalma cooed as she spied the young boy hiding behind his mother's skirts. His thumb found its way into his mouth while he continued to size her up silently. "I remember when Lunara was that age. I miss those times."
"Yes, our little Ahkeem is growing up well. He's starting to look more like his father by the day." Daria said as she placed her hand on his head. "By the way, I heard your daughter was stirring up things in the capitol. And where is Ruslan? Did he not come?"
"He's here, but he's off doing something else. Told me to meet him by the dance floor." Her eyes turned to the crowd as if expecting him to surface shortly.
A scream erupted across the party followed by a clatter of a tray falling to the ground. Daria stepped forward causing her son to jump. She coughed then blinked in shock. Stiffening, she tightened her jaw in discomfort.
"Daria?" Dalma asked seeing the odd behavior.
"Aye tink she's a lil' busy dyin' rite noaw." Came a gruff, delighted voice behind Daria.
Without thinking, Daria shoved Ahkeem toward her friend. A quiet plead to save him before she collapsed. Behind her, the man straightened upright with a stained knife in hand. The tray he had been carrying earlier had been tossed upon the ground. "Yor turn, bitch..."
He then stepped forward as Dalma fled with the crying boy.
Irritated by Lunara's words, Ruslan wandered off to find Dalma. He knew the higher his daughter soared in her ideals, the farther she'd fall. It was only a matter of time. He plucked a wine glass from a nearby tray as his eyes scanned the crowd. Where had his wife gotten to...
A scream jerked Ruslan from his thoughts. His eyes moved to the direction, spotting Lady Merut a distance away. She clenched her chest then crumble to the floor. A dark stain began to spread across the fabrics of her blouse. The server held the cause, a bloodied blade. Screams erupted as staff drew hidden weapons and lashed out at the nearest noble. Man, woman or child all became wheat underneath the blade.
He reached out to his Gift. All he felt were odd tingles and faint traces, but nothing close to the raw power he knew. What was happening? He didn't have time to ponder when a server drew a knife then rushed at him. Adrenaline kicked into the elite's veins causing him to slide along the table's edge. Unable to stop, his attacker's blade scored the wooden surface behind him. The man cried out in surprise.
Ruslan slammed his hand on the wrist and pinned it there. Meanwhile, his other shattered the glass on the table's edge. He whipped it at the man's throat. Glass buried into flesh causing blood to gush freely. Clenching his neck frantically, the old man gurgled. He crumbled across Ruslan's path, twitching away the remains of his life.
Unbothered by the violence, Rulsan stepped over the corpse. He paused long enough to grab the blade. Now he wouldn't be so helpless.
"You son of a bitch. You're gonna to die for that!" Another man screamed as a blade sliced at Ruslan's chest.
Being faster, the elite twisted to the side then countered. His blade hit home. It cut through the fabric and into the flesh, leaving behind a shallow wound. "No, but you will." Ruslan hissed.
Ruslan stabbed the blade deep into the man's arm. Blood flowed freely down the forearm as he yanked it free, his attacker forced to drop his own weapon. Clenching the wound, he glared at the elite then retreated into the crowd. Ruslan took a breath of relief. A few slashes upon his clothing reveal shallow wounds underneath, but nothing dangerous. Keeping the knife close, his eyes scanned the carnage for his wife and heir.
A few feet away, Alad stood in one place. The sounds and sights rushed around him, threatening to drown him in their chaos. His fists pressed hard into his ears while he bounced on the balls of his feet. A weak attempt to sooth himself. Too much noise. It hurts, he thought feeling a hole growing in his stomach.
"Dalma, Lunara!"
Upon hearing Ruslan shout, his eyes came to rest on the man. Fear gave away to anger and before Alad knew it, his hand tightened on the knife's handle. He rushed in. A furious scream erupted from his lungs. One hand gripped about the Ruslan's throat and shoved him against a wall. Fingers tightened about the windpipe as the blade came down toward the chest. It stopped short when the elite's arm snapped upward, blocking it.
Not willing to be bested by a whelp, he roared. "Get off me!"
His foot slipped in between their bodies and kicked at Alad's stomach. With honed reflexes, his knife whipped up and caught his attacker's chest. Alad stumbled back as Ruslan fell to one knee, gasping for breath. With his Gift missing, he lacked the means to match the boy's strength.
The sisters were at loggerheads, their goals the same but focused on different people. It lay bare, in some respects, their priorities. Behind them, the rumble of the taiko faded as the musicians fled. Gunshots snapped and screams filled the air. From somewhere, a trained nose could smell smoke.
Their mother had gone one way and their father the other. To one side, across what had become a killing field, lay the colonnades and the gardens, where they might seek cover and find an escape. Perhaps their parents had rushed that way. To the other lay the lavatories and the entrance atrium: a funnel into which people were streaming and being killed on an almost-industrial scale.
Then, closer to them were three men, holding down a Virangishman and hacking him up with machetes as his resistance broke down. his finely-dress wife, her clothes covered in blood, was doing her best to scramble away. One of the men, presently, turned his attention to the two girls, already searching for his next prey.
Chaos reigned in Palapar. Men and women crippled by the cleaving of savage blades. Children were toppled and stampeded over as those who gasped for air in wider spaces crushed everything to reach safety. The scene descended from opulence to grotesque. The mixture of wine, bites, and corpses filled the Gala as screams and smoke drove the fearful mad. All this death for a cause lost on the one's being delivered the message.
Lunara ripped her hand from her sister's grasp, "We're not leaving without mother and father!" As she fought her sister, she too fought the crowd of people she tried to pass. Her sights were on Ruslan, but he was lost in the stream of shoulders that bashed her side to side. Even if she could not see him, her goals remained, get to her family, get them to safety, and regroup.
Of course, hope and reality rarely met in the middle.
Mahal had grown up with violence, both verbal and physical. However, this was a whole new level for her. When Lunara jerked her arm from her grip, Mahal pursed her lips. She should've expected this, but she had hoped to get her sister out before then. "Father will be fine. We need to find Dalma."
Supok flashed her fangs followed by a rumbling growl. She held her ground near the two girls as if waiting for something. Mahal's eyes snapped to the man eyeing them. "If I was you, I would not try it. A Firehound's bite isn't worth the trouble and can be really nasty."
Her eyes scanned for Dalma's whereabouts.
The men watched the dog, eyes flicking at the girls. The dog was focused on the men. They circled, brandishing their weapons, and a few made probing moves inward, but never far enough, never close enough.
It was moments before he was upon them that Mahal saw the fourth assailant. A small man - barely older than the sisters if at all - sprung forward with a net and a short harpoon.
Lunara firmly stepped forward as three men circled, "Stand down! You don't need to do this. Whatever cause you're fighting for, this isn't the way to achieve it!" Her pain poured into each word, she hoped these men would come to reason, at least hesitate in their advance.
Mahal cursed herself for not trying to sneak in a weapon or Diyablos, but there was no time for regret. Noticing a few broken glasses and debris, she considered tossing them at the circling men. That's when she spied movement from behind them. Quickly, Mahal twisted then kicked the glass into his direction. She then cut the distance in hopes to stop him from using the net. "I don't think they are in the mood to listen, Lunara."
It shattered on impact, shards of glass spraying across the area, and a couple embedded themselves in him.
It wasn't enough.
He lunged for her. Her dog lunged for him, and out came the net. The other three bolted forward, surprisingly coordinated, and snagged it. Supok thrashed and snarled and they started to tighten the net. It took two of them, leaving Mahal and Lunara even with the others.
For a moment, they didn't even bother to respond to Lunara. Hers were just more appeals of their oppressors finally laid low, trying everything that they could to worm out of their comeuppance. All that she got was a dismissive, "Shut up, girl. Less of you means more for us."
"Honeyed words don't mean much when your magic and your laws aren't here to let you fuck us anymore."
The bigger of the two lunged, at that moment, a meat cleaver in his hand.
Lunara felt the anger spit at her like venom. Anger beget anger, and Lunara's couldn't let her's rise. The short-sightedness of these men boiled her blood but it would not disrupt her will. She focused as she did when her home was attacked by the same short-sightedness that risked her family. Words would not work this time. The bigger attacker lunged with the cleaver, Lunara sidestepped and would try to use the attacker's momentum against him, trip him, and send him toward the other attacker who was behind them.
"Supok!" Mahal hollered as her hound was netted then pinned down. A conflict surfaced: leave her sister or her dog. Impulse overrode her logic as she rushed forward, lashing out with a punch at the nearest man's head that held down her dog.
It would've worked. It should've. He grabbed her, though, instead of simply blowing past. He grabbed her and he spun and he threw her into the ground, where she landed at the edge of the net, just beside the whining thrashing snarling Supok. Mahal fared little better. The man slipped her punch and took one of his hands off of the net to deliver his own. It took the girl square on the temple and sent her stumbling backwards, dazed and reeling. She tripped on the near-prone Lunara and crashed down beside her.
Hazily, through the chaos, the shouting, and the stars in her vision, she could see Supok whining and trying to break free, no more than a couple of feet from her. She also thought that she'd sighted a face she knew, a handful of yards away, walking with purpose toward some other spot: the small man with the deep voice, one of the rebel leaders.
Lunara gritted her teeth, the impact driving a gasp from her lungs as she hit the ground beside Supok. Her anger flared momentarily, but she bit it back, forcing herself to focus once more. She saw Mahal stumble and fall beside her, and the sight of her sister's dazed state snapped her back into action.
Through the blur of chaos, Lunara caught sight of a familiar face - a rebel leader.
Lunara shouted to catch his attention, "Is this your justice? Killing unarmed women and a dog? Help, or is this rebellion just for you?"
Whether her message fell on deaf ears or not, her hand reached for the net as a contingency.
For a moment, he continued, and her hand closed around the net. Then, the man paused. He turned on the spot, looking around. He didn't see them. Somewhere, out in front of him, there seemed to be a commotion.
It was just as she started to pull that he took a final glance and his eyes seized on them. "You!" he shouted. "Lunti! Mabini!"
They did not hear him. "Lunti!" he roared, taking a step their way, "Mabini!" They twisted, one just after the other. "You were told: two girls with a dog! You leave them alone!" He stalked forward. "They aren't enemies."
"The dog, Lakan."
"I have told you: don't call me that."
"Right. Sorry, but the dog! We went for them because it was a danger. It was going to attack our people."
Supok scrabbled and howled and whined.
"Well, now you have the dog. You don't need these girls who aren't our enemies."
The other two men who Dani hadn't named regarded him apprehensively. "Go!" he demanded, "Go do what we came here for! You have real fights to fight." He shook his head. "Tie the animal, leave it, and go!"
Lunara's hand tightened around the net, her body poised to spring into action. She glanced as Mahal, her sister's wide-eyed apprehension slowly giving way to determination. This was a chance-perhaps their only chance.
This Lakan, seemed to command authority, his words carrying their weight even among those who initially resisted. His rebuke rippled the group, forcing the assailants to reassess their actions.
Appealing to this authority, Lunara straightened slightly, her voice calm but firm, "Listen to him. We're not your enemies; this chaos only adds to the bloodshed you claim to oppose. Let us go and end this slaughter."
"No, girl. Blood demands blood." The leader - Dani, if she recalled correctly from before - shook his head tightly. "You have seen it yourself now that you've tried. There are those who will never change, those who will never let us go."
The other men were at pains to protest Mahal's words, and he raised a hand to quiet them. "They do not know you and had no reason to trust your word. You both appeared and behaved like an enemy to them."
He was taking a step back. "Tonight will be painful - I take no pleasure that it is happening this way - but a new Palapar shall be born: one where its people are no longer slaves on its own land. No longer lied to. No longer prey. To do this, we must show that we have teeth of our own, claws of our own. If you cannot understand this, then we will not speak again."
Now, he started to move. "Go to the Southeast Tower, by the colonnades, be safe."
Lunara sized the man up and down. She remembered him from the estate. As she believed, the rebellion was never over, only adjusting focus.
"Your teeth and claws are obvious. After tonight, it will be your sense that will be in question. If doubt spurs of those in higher seats, if they conclude you cannot come to reason... I fear all of this... will end in vain. I hope this path does not end there."
She turned to Mahal, "Let's go find Dalma."
"No, you need to take Supok and leave. I'll look for Dalma." Mahal managed to stand straight as the pain gradually dulled. She would feel it later, but thankfully her adrenaline delayed it.
Whether or not he heard her remained unknown. He disappeared into the chaos and the sisters were left to their own devices... and their own opinions, it would appear.
"I need?"Lunara tilted her head, "did you not witness what I did here?" She stepped toward where she thought Dalma would be, "you think if it were just you in this situation that you'd have come out alive?" Lunara took another step, "I'm going to find Dalma."
Mahal gritted her teeth as she grabbed her sister's arm to stop her from walking away. "Yes, but I also recall neither of us have magic. If we run into trouble again, we'll both die. Unlike you, I'm of little importance. You... you're different. Now, will you just trust me?"
Lunara paused and turned to wrap her hand around her sister's skull, "And if something were to happen to you and Dalma? How could I live with that?"
"You don't think I feel the same? However, I'm not the heir. If I die, I'll still be with you." Impulsively, Mahal pressed her forehead against her sister then sighed. She knew her sister couldn't be reasoned with and she had become tired of fighting. "We're wasting time. Since you won't trust me, stay close."
She pulled past her sister and called Supok to follow.
Lunara pressed back, "It isn't about trust, it's about us keeping our family safe... together." She kept close to Mahal as they searched for Dalma.
Lunara spotted Dalma! Her back to the Grand Hall as she evaded the slaughterhouse by slipping into the lavatories.
"Mahal! The lavatories." Lunara started off toward Dalma.
"Shhh, hush. You need to be brave or they will find us." Dalma gently wiped away the boy's tears as she soothed his crying. She settled him in the nearest corner before scanning the chamber pots. Finding a mostly empty one, she kicked it over and emptied it. Hauling it toward the shutter, she tossed it at the only viable exit. It hit once, merely denting them. Cursing, she tried it again causing it to farther crack the thin barrier between her and the outside.
When she heard footsteps approach, her head whipped back to the door and she snatched up the machete. She fought the trembling as she held it with both hands.
"Mother?"Lunara cut through the entrance of the lavatories. Dalma stood ready and bloodied?
"It's Lunara and Mahal, are you okay?" She rushed over to her mother to see if her mother was indeed hurt.
She checked and it was not Dalma's.
"I am fine, we need to get out of here." Dalma stated. Lunara questioned, "What about father?"
"He can fend for himself, he is capable."
Lunara wasn't convinced but she heeded her mother's call for help. They did need to get out of here, or at least, help Dalma and the little one evacuate.
As they busted the shutter, Dalma gave Akeem to Lunara, "take him first." Lunara argued, "No you first." Dalma pushed into Lunara harder, "No, as your mother I must know all of you are out safely. I will be right behind you."
Lunara took Akeem and she went first. Mahal and Supoke followed. But as Dalma was about to crawl through, she felt a force pull her back.
Heavy hands worn down by hard labor grabbed Dalma's dress from behind. Her strength was no match to keep her moving forward, and as the rough hands of the stranger tossed her to the ground, Dalma screamed.
Her fear called out but without an answer from hope. Dalma's shoulder hit the ground, sliding to the wall. A second man kicked the machete from her hand before she could raise it.
Dazed and confused, she was propped up, "What're you doing rattin' around?" Dalma's head was pounding, her body aching. She wouldn't answer, only try to buy her family time.
She hurled herself at one of them, a feral scream tearing from her throat. Her fingers clawed into his face, digging deep into the soft flesh of his eyes. He howled—a guttural, panicked cry—as his hands flailed, trying to rip her off. She clung with desperate, primal strength, a strength born of sheer will, the kind only a mother fighting for her family could summon.
“Get her off me!” he shouted, his voice cracking with pain and fear. The second man lunged, his hand catching her by the hair and yanking her backward with brutal force. She hit the wall with a sickening thud, the impact stealing her breath.
Before she could recover, he moved with a reflex honed by violence. The blade found her stomach, plunging deep. Her gasp turned to a choked whimper as the steel tore through flesh. She collapsed to her knees, clutching at the hilt, her trembling fingers slick with her own blood.
“Bitch,” the first spat, still rubbing at his ruined eye, his voice dripping with venom. He managed to pry one eye open, the other streaming crimson down his cheek.
The two men backed away, their boots echoing in the chaos as they disappeared, leaving her slumped in a pool of her own blood. Dalma’s breath came in shallow, shuddering gasps. Tears mingled with the blood seeping from her wound, streaking her pale face as her vision blurred. She pressed a hand to her stomach, her life spilling out between her fingers.
Were they safe?
A sense of isolation washed over her causing her anxieties to build. It danced on her skin until...
Her eyes found her father's glare. She lowered her eyes and moved out of sight, parting the crowd along the way. After plucking a glass from a passing tray, she pressed her back into a wall. It became obvious she didn't belong here.
Supok whined drawing Mahal's head to tilt down. Her gaze softened at the antsy pup causing her to gentle scratch the canine's ear. Taking a moment to center herself, Mahal inhaled and pushed down the apprehension. She sipped on the wine and let the familiar tingle bubble in the back of her mind. It wouldn't last long as she began to locate her targets.
Once their introductions ended, Ruslan offered his arm to his first wife, Dalma. Her slender arms looped into his as she kept pace with him. While guiding her through the crowds, he caught sight of Ceren on the outer edges. A warning glare sent her slithering into the crowds without a trace.
"Do you think they will show?" Dalma asked.
"Focus on the gala."
"Very well,"Dalma then spotted a friend and her husband. With a gentle tug, she pulled him closer and fell into conversation. A look exchanged between the men while they stood politely nearby. Half listening, Ruslan sampled a stuffed kicker snail from a tray.
Halah frowned at the girl in armor. "That's not fit for the gala. Is this some type of joke or tradition?"
Raffaella's introduction interrupted their conversation as all head turned toward her.
"Of course she would be here." The woman said, gesturing her glass toward the pink haired girl.
"You know her?" Ruslan broke his silence at last.
"Based on rumors, nothing more. Some sort of prophet or something. Personally, I wouldn't pay it much mind. I think she's some poor girl who's managed to gain some attention. It will fade with time."
"Curious. That cat is the largest I've seen. I wonder what breed it is. It's certain not a goma." Dalma commented while her eyes studied the large feline.
"With any luck, it might eat her." Halah jested as she sipped on her wine.
Another noble spoke, "Justice is a fine word, my lady, but the cost of such upheavel is high. You can't expect the economy to survive such generosity."
Lunara matching his dismissive tone with conviction, "And what cost will the next uprising bring? How long will your estates, your businesses, remain intact if the embers of this rebellion reignite, and worse, fueled by broken promises?"
A third noble asked, "You believe they'll return?"
"I know they will." Lunara nodded, "They left the Agha estate because they were willing to give us a chance at a peaceful resolution. Their trust will only extend so far before its fragility cracks and their ignored voices raise to battle cries."
"What would you propose?"
Lunara softened her tone, "Fair wages for their labor. Reasonable working hours. The chance to own land after years of servitude. These aren't radical demands; let us offer them a seat at the table, rather than see them tear the table apart."
"It is a calculated risk, stability through reform rather than suppression-an approach we've never tried."
Vizier Karga scoffed, "And who will enforce these changes? Who will bear the burden of convincing the courts?"
Lunara met his gaze with quiet intenisty, "I will. I've already begun. But I need allies-people of influence like yourselves to stand with me. Together, we can avert the next conflict before it begins."
The nobles who at this point surrounded the conversation, captivated by the topic had broke into chatter. The risks, consequences, benefits, interests, values, and the future of Palapar were all being laid out. A microcosm of beliefs battling to see who would side with her view and who would remain apart of the status quo.
Mahal knew time was ticking down as her eyes sought out her half-sister, Lunara. A familiar numbness washed over her and she detached from the scene around her. The party turned into a blur of colors, poor shapes, and sounds drifting from her attention. Where are you, Lunara? Her teeth gritted before she set the wine glass down on another tray. She needed a better position to survey the room.
An elder man stepped into her way. He continued to idly chat with two ladies, their eye batting back in a flirtatious manner. With a deep breath, Mahal flowed around him like water around an annoying rock. It was then she noticed a porter moving quickly through the party. Her eyes trailed ahead before her heart dropped. Lunara was near the vizier. With a quick whistle for Supok to follow, Mahal picked up her pace and pushed past the crowd. Catching sight of her, the porter fell back to let her handle this.
Upon reaching her half-sister, Mahal gently tapped her on the shoulder. "Sorry to interrupt, but Lunara, may I have a word with you... alone?"
Supok flipped about and pressed into Mahal's leg. Her head tilted to catch sight of her father watching them. Not good... Likely disliking what he saw, he sent Dalma to wait for him at the dance floor and then moved in to investigate. Things just got harder for her.
Lunara flicked her hair to the side as the crowd continued to chatter amongst themselves. Their waning and waxing on the issue was 'good'. It meant there was traction, and hope. As she was about to again readdress the issue to emphasize the need to act immediately her attention was tugged on by her dear sister Mahal.
"My dear sister what is it?" Lunara's eyebrows raised.
Mahal's eyes shifted to the elite's idle chit chat, their ranks divided. The progress was deceptive as they fluttered from one subject to another. In their eyes, the notion was easily entertained, but in practice harmful for them. She doubted it would progress past tonight's conversation. "I'm very anxious and I'm getting a bad feeling. We need to... leave."
By the time the words slipped from her mouth, their father loomed behind her. "Ceren..."
The mention of her name seemed harmless on the surface, but Mahal knew it was a warning. A warning to behave or suffer the consequences later. Instinctively, her eyes turned to face him and her voice burned against his icy words. "Father."
"You remember what we discussed, don't you? About not becoming a nuisance to Lunara?"
Or drawing attention to myself, Mahal added feeling trapped now.
The opulence of the gala drowned out any sense of grounded reality. It was difficult to see if any of what would be done here tonight wouldn't fall into some sort of 'dream' category. Elites waking up tomorrow, only to have been entertained by the gossip, whispers, and idle chat to keep them distracted from their real priority: managing their wealth.
The mixture of laughter, music, and glasses clinking kicked out much of Mahal's warning, 'something something, anxious, bad feeling.' Lunara asked, "What did you say?" Leaning in closer to Mahal, except for Ruslan as Ruslan did, interrupted. The two exchanged nothing close to pleasantries.
Lunara stepped forward as Ruslan wrapped up his command to Mahal, "Mahal isn’t a nuisance, Father. She’s family, and her presence is welcome." She held a firm gaze. "You, however, may go. I can manage without another reminder of my own capability."
Ruslan stiffened, then inclined his head slightly, his voice curt, "Very well. Do as you will, but tread carefully, Lunara." He turned and strode off.
Lunara turning back to Mahal, "What were you saying?"
Before Mahal could answer, a young woman emerged beside Lunara, "Lady Lunara?"
"And why, Lady Akamai, do you concern yourself with the plight of Palaparese laborers? Surely your own people have little stake in this reformation."
Maelea closed the gap more, lowering her voice, "Because justice is not confined by borders, Lady Lunara. Oppression anywhere fuels unrest everywhere. And because I know what it means to see others struggle while others revel in power and wealth." She stepped back and opened her arms to drive the point home that this gala was living proof of her words.
"You speak the truth. Perhaps you understand more than most here. If your intentions are true, your support could make all the difference. But know this Lady Akamai-I fight in favor of lives and justice. If you stand with me, you stand for that cause alone, not favor or position."
Maelea smiling warmly, "Then I stand with you, my lady." Some others spotted Lunara speaking with what appeared to be a noble. Their secret conversation intrigued the other nobles as they drew closer to Lunara and Mahal before Maelea slipped away back into the crowd. The others wanted to know about Lunara's plans, if she received support what would they get in return, and more.
Her stomach churned and she inhaled sharply. The price of her ignorance hit her hard. She wasn't the only one shook by her sudden disconnect with her magic. Supok, usually excitable and friendly, whimpered in discomfort. The canine pressed against her leg with a tremble. It was too late. As if to prove her point, a scream sliced through the party's atmosphere. It triggered an outright panic as people moved like animals fleeing a predator.
"Go, now!" Mahal commanded, pushing her sister ahead of her. Her next words turned to the firehound. "Supok, on me."
The firehound bristled and woofed. She rushed alongside the pair as they moved.
In the throes of a promising relationship to reformation, only to be punched out by the screeching of fearful people. The room went celebration to terror. Panic beset into the hearts of those preyed upon by the snakes in the room. Lunara's hand snatched by her sister and pushed ahead and commanded to "go!"
She saw her father turn toward those transforming the Gala into a massacre. The assaulters were strong in number and willing to cut anyone in their way. But how could Lunara leave when family remained behind? "No!" Lunara pushed Mahal back. "We need to get our father." The flood of people trying to escape divided Lunara and Mahal across from where Ruslan stood. Pushing through would be a fight in it of itself.
Mahal dug in her heels at her sister's resistance. Her teeth gritted and anger glared back. This wasn't the time to fight her! She glanced back to where their father disappeared among the stampede of people. She drew closer once more. "We're not getting to him that way. Father can handle himself. Trust me, right now, I need to get you somewhere safe first."
Iron flashed in Mahal's peripheral causing her to shove Lunara away from her. "Go, NOW!" She growled, turning to face the attacker. It was an elderly man, his hand tightened about a machete, then raised it again to strike. Mahal screamed. "GET OUTSIDE, NOW! I'll get father."
Bloody Interruption
"Oh, he's so adorable." Dalma cooed as she spied the young boy hiding behind his mother's skirts. His thumb found its way into his mouth while he continued to size her up silently. "I remember when Lunara was that age. I miss those times."
"Yes, our little Ahkeem is growing up well. He's starting to look more like his father by the day." Daria said as she placed her hand on his head. "By the way, I heard your daughter was stirring up things in the capitol. And where is Ruslan? Did he not come?"
"He's here, but he's off doing something else. Told me to meet him by the dance floor." Her eyes turned to the crowd as if expecting him to surface shortly.
A scream erupted across the party followed by a clatter of a tray falling to the ground. Daria stepped forward causing her son to jump. She coughed then blinked in shock. Stiffening, she tightened her jaw in discomfort.
"Daria?" Dalma asked seeing the odd behavior.
"Aye tink she's a lil' busy dyin' rite noaw." Came a gruff, delighted voice behind Daria.
Without thinking, Daria shoved Ahkeem toward her friend. A quiet plead to save him before she collapsed. Behind her, the man straightened upright with a stained knife in hand. The tray he had been carrying earlier had been tossed upon the ground. "Yor turn, bitch..."
He then stepped forward as Dalma fled with the crying boy.
Far from Easy Prey
Irritated by Lunara's words, Ruslan wandered off to find Dalma. He knew the higher his daughter soared in her ideals, the farther she'd fall. It was only a matter of time. He plucked a wine glass from a nearby tray as his eyes scanned the crowd. Where had his wife gotten to...
A scream jerked Ruslan from his thoughts. His eyes moved to the direction, spotting Lady Merut a distance away. She clenched her chest then crumble to the floor. A dark stain began to spread across the fabrics of her blouse. The server held the cause, a bloodied blade. Screams erupted as staff drew hidden weapons and lashed out at the nearest noble. Man, woman or child all became wheat underneath the blade.
He reached out to his Gift. All he felt were odd tingles and faint traces, but nothing close to the raw power he knew. What was happening? He didn't have time to ponder when a server drew a knife then rushed at him. Adrenaline kicked into the elite's veins causing him to slide along the table's edge. Unable to stop, his attacker's blade scored the wooden surface behind him. The man cried out in surprise.
Ruslan slammed his hand on the wrist and pinned it there. Meanwhile, his other shattered the glass on the table's edge. He whipped it at the man's throat. Glass buried into flesh causing blood to gush freely. Clenching his neck frantically, the old man gurgled. He crumbled across Ruslan's path, twitching away the remains of his life.
Unbothered by the violence, Rulsan stepped over the corpse. He paused long enough to grab the blade. Now he wouldn't be so helpless.
"You son of a bitch. You're gonna to die for that!" Another man screamed as a blade sliced at Ruslan's chest.
Being faster, the elite twisted to the side then countered. His blade hit home. It cut through the fabric and into the flesh, leaving behind a shallow wound. "No, but you will." Ruslan hissed.
Ruslan stabbed the blade deep into the man's arm. Blood flowed freely down the forearm as he yanked it free, his attacker forced to drop his own weapon. Clenching the wound, he glared at the elite then retreated into the crowd. Ruslan took a breath of relief. A few slashes upon his clothing reveal shallow wounds underneath, but nothing dangerous. Keeping the knife close, his eyes scanned the carnage for his wife and heir.
A few feet away, Alad stood in one place. The sounds and sights rushed around him, threatening to drown him in their chaos. His fists pressed hard into his ears while he bounced on the balls of his feet. A weak attempt to sooth himself. Too much noise. It hurts, he thought feeling a hole growing in his stomach.
"Dalma, Lunara!"
Upon hearing Ruslan shout, his eyes came to rest on the man. Fear gave away to anger and before Alad knew it, his hand tightened on the knife's handle. He rushed in. A furious scream erupted from his lungs. One hand gripped about the Ruslan's throat and shoved him against a wall. Fingers tightened about the windpipe as the blade came down toward the chest. It stopped short when the elite's arm snapped upward, blocking it.
Not willing to be bested by a whelp, he roared. "Get off me!"
His foot slipped in between their bodies and kicked at Alad's stomach. With honed reflexes, his knife whipped up and caught his attacker's chest. Alad stumbled back as Ruslan fell to one knee, gasping for breath. With his Gift missing, he lacked the means to match the boy's strength.
The sisters were at loggerheads, their goals the same but focused on different people. It lay bare, in some respects, their priorities. Behind them, the rumble of the taiko faded as the musicians fled. Gunshots snapped and screams filled the air. From somewhere, a trained nose could smell smoke.
Their mother had gone one way and their father the other. To one side, across what had become a killing field, lay the colonnades and the gardens, where they might seek cover and find an escape. Perhaps their parents had rushed that way. To the other lay the lavatories and the entrance atrium: a funnel into which people were streaming and being killed on an almost-industrial scale.
Then, closer to them were three men, holding down a Virangishman and hacking him up with machetes as his resistance broke down. his finely-dress wife, her clothes covered in blood, was doing her best to scramble away. One of the men, presently, turned his attention to the two girls, already searching for his next prey.
Chaos reigned in Palapar. Men and women crippled by the cleaving of savage blades. Children were toppled and stampeded over as those who gasped for air in wider spaces crushed everything to reach safety. The scene descended from opulence to grotesque. The mixture of wine, bites, and corpses filled the Gala as screams and smoke drove the fearful mad. All this death for a cause lost on the one's being delivered the message.
Lunara ripped her hand from her sister's grasp, "We're not leaving without mother and father!" As she fought her sister, she too fought the crowd of people she tried to pass. Her sights were on Ruslan, but he was lost in the stream of shoulders that bashed her side to side. Even if she could not see him, her goals remained, get to her family, get them to safety, and regroup.
Of course, hope and reality rarely met in the middle.
Mahal had grown up with violence, both verbal and physical. However, this was a whole new level for her. When Lunara jerked her arm from her grip, Mahal pursed her lips. She should've expected this, but she had hoped to get her sister out before then. "Father will be fine. We need to find Dalma."
Supok flashed her fangs followed by a rumbling growl. She held her ground near the two girls as if waiting for something. Mahal's eyes snapped to the man eyeing them. "If I was you, I would not try it. A Firehound's bite isn't worth the trouble and can be really nasty."
Her eyes scanned for Dalma's whereabouts.
The men watched the dog, eyes flicking at the girls. The dog was focused on the men. They circled, brandishing their weapons, and a few made probing moves inward, but never far enough, never close enough.
It was moments before he was upon them that Mahal saw the fourth assailant. A small man - barely older than the sisters if at all - sprung forward with a net and a short harpoon.
Lunara firmly stepped forward as three men circled, "Stand down! You don't need to do this. Whatever cause you're fighting for, this isn't the way to achieve it!" Her pain poured into each word, she hoped these men would come to reason, at least hesitate in their advance.
Mahal cursed herself for not trying to sneak in a weapon or Diyablos, but there was no time for regret. Noticing a few broken glasses and debris, she considered tossing them at the circling men. That's when she spied movement from behind them. Quickly, Mahal twisted then kicked the glass into his direction. She then cut the distance in hopes to stop him from using the net. "I don't think they are in the mood to listen, Lunara."
It shattered on impact, shards of glass spraying across the area, and a couple embedded themselves in him.
It wasn't enough.
He lunged for her. Her dog lunged for him, and out came the net. The other three bolted forward, surprisingly coordinated, and snagged it. Supok thrashed and snarled and they started to tighten the net. It took two of them, leaving Mahal and Lunara even with the others.
For a moment, they didn't even bother to respond to Lunara. Hers were just more appeals of their oppressors finally laid low, trying everything that they could to worm out of their comeuppance. All that she got was a dismissive, "Shut up, girl. Less of you means more for us."
"Honeyed words don't mean much when your magic and your laws aren't here to let you fuck us anymore."
The bigger of the two lunged, at that moment, a meat cleaver in his hand.
Lunara felt the anger spit at her like venom. Anger beget anger, and Lunara's couldn't let her's rise. The short-sightedness of these men boiled her blood but it would not disrupt her will. She focused as she did when her home was attacked by the same short-sightedness that risked her family. Words would not work this time. The bigger attacker lunged with the cleaver, Lunara sidestepped and would try to use the attacker's momentum against him, trip him, and send him toward the other attacker who was behind them.
"Supok!" Mahal hollered as her hound was netted then pinned down. A conflict surfaced: leave her sister or her dog. Impulse overrode her logic as she rushed forward, lashing out with a punch at the nearest man's head that held down her dog.
It would've worked. It should've. He grabbed her, though, instead of simply blowing past. He grabbed her and he spun and he threw her into the ground, where she landed at the edge of the net, just beside the whining thrashing snarling Supok. Mahal fared little better. The man slipped her punch and took one of his hands off of the net to deliver his own. It took the girl square on the temple and sent her stumbling backwards, dazed and reeling. She tripped on the near-prone Lunara and crashed down beside her.
Hazily, through the chaos, the shouting, and the stars in her vision, she could see Supok whining and trying to break free, no more than a couple of feet from her. She also thought that she'd sighted a face she knew, a handful of yards away, walking with purpose toward some other spot: the small man with the deep voice, one of the rebel leaders.
Lunara gritted her teeth, the impact driving a gasp from her lungs as she hit the ground beside Supok. Her anger flared momentarily, but she bit it back, forcing herself to focus once more. She saw Mahal stumble and fall beside her, and the sight of her sister's dazed state snapped her back into action.
Through the blur of chaos, Lunara caught sight of a familiar face - a rebel leader.
Lunara shouted to catch his attention, "Is this your justice? Killing unarmed women and a dog? Help, or is this rebellion just for you?"
Whether her message fell on deaf ears or not, her hand reached for the net as a contingency.
For a moment, he continued, and her hand closed around the net. Then, the man paused. He turned on the spot, looking around. He didn't see them. Somewhere, out in front of him, there seemed to be a commotion.
It was just as she started to pull that he took a final glance and his eyes seized on them. "You!" he shouted. "Lunti! Mabini!"
They did not hear him. "Lunti!" he roared, taking a step their way, "Mabini!" They twisted, one just after the other. "You were told: two girls with a dog! You leave them alone!" He stalked forward. "They aren't enemies."
"The dog, Lakan."
"I have told you: don't call me that."
"Right. Sorry, but the dog! We went for them because it was a danger. It was going to attack our people."
Supok scrabbled and howled and whined.
"Well, now you have the dog. You don't need these girls who aren't our enemies."
The other two men who Dani hadn't named regarded him apprehensively. "Go!" he demanded, "Go do what we came here for! You have real fights to fight." He shook his head. "Tie the animal, leave it, and go!"
Lunara's hand tightened around the net, her body poised to spring into action. She glanced as Mahal, her sister's wide-eyed apprehension slowly giving way to determination. This was a chance-perhaps their only chance.
This Lakan, seemed to command authority, his words carrying their weight even among those who initially resisted. His rebuke rippled the group, forcing the assailants to reassess their actions.
Appealing to this authority, Lunara straightened slightly, her voice calm but firm, "Listen to him. We're not your enemies; this chaos only adds to the bloodshed you claim to oppose. Let us go and end this slaughter."
"No, girl. Blood demands blood." The leader - Dani, if she recalled correctly from before - shook his head tightly. "You have seen it yourself now that you've tried. There are those who will never change, those who will never let us go."
The other men were at pains to protest Mahal's words, and he raised a hand to quiet them. "They do not know you and had no reason to trust your word. You both appeared and behaved like an enemy to them."
He was taking a step back. "Tonight will be painful - I take no pleasure that it is happening this way - but a new Palapar shall be born: one where its people are no longer slaves on its own land. No longer lied to. No longer prey. To do this, we must show that we have teeth of our own, claws of our own. If you cannot understand this, then we will not speak again."
Now, he started to move. "Go to the Southeast Tower, by the colonnades, be safe."
Lunara sized the man up and down. She remembered him from the estate. As she believed, the rebellion was never over, only adjusting focus.
"Your teeth and claws are obvious. After tonight, it will be your sense that will be in question. If doubt spurs of those in higher seats, if they conclude you cannot come to reason... I fear all of this... will end in vain. I hope this path does not end there."
She turned to Mahal, "Let's go find Dalma."
"No, you need to take Supok and leave. I'll look for Dalma." Mahal managed to stand straight as the pain gradually dulled. She would feel it later, but thankfully her adrenaline delayed it.
Whether or not he heard her remained unknown. He disappeared into the chaos and the sisters were left to their own devices... and their own opinions, it would appear.
"I need?"Lunara tilted her head, "did you not witness what I did here?" She stepped toward where she thought Dalma would be, "you think if it were just you in this situation that you'd have come out alive?" Lunara took another step, "I'm going to find Dalma."
Mahal gritted her teeth as she grabbed her sister's arm to stop her from walking away. "Yes, but I also recall neither of us have magic. If we run into trouble again, we'll both die. Unlike you, I'm of little importance. You... you're different. Now, will you just trust me?"
Lunara paused and turned to wrap her hand around her sister's skull, "And if something were to happen to you and Dalma? How could I live with that?"
"You don't think I feel the same? However, I'm not the heir. If I die, I'll still be with you." Impulsively, Mahal pressed her forehead against her sister then sighed. She knew her sister couldn't be reasoned with and she had become tired of fighting. "We're wasting time. Since you won't trust me, stay close."
She pulled past her sister and called Supok to follow.
Lunara pressed back, "It isn't about trust, it's about us keeping our family safe... together." She kept close to Mahal as they searched for Dalma.
Lunara spotted Dalma! Her back to the Grand Hall as she evaded the slaughterhouse by slipping into the lavatories.
"Mahal! The lavatories." Lunara started off toward Dalma.
"Shhh, hush. You need to be brave or they will find us." Dalma gently wiped away the boy's tears as she soothed his crying. She settled him in the nearest corner before scanning the chamber pots. Finding a mostly empty one, she kicked it over and emptied it. Hauling it toward the shutter, she tossed it at the only viable exit. It hit once, merely denting them. Cursing, she tried it again causing it to farther crack the thin barrier between her and the outside.
When she heard footsteps approach, her head whipped back to the door and she snatched up the machete. She fought the trembling as she held it with both hands.
"Mother?"Lunara cut through the entrance of the lavatories. Dalma stood ready and bloodied?
"It's Lunara and Mahal, are you okay?" She rushed over to her mother to see if her mother was indeed hurt.
She checked and it was not Dalma's.
"I am fine, we need to get out of here." Dalma stated. Lunara questioned, "What about father?"
"He can fend for himself, he is capable."
Lunara wasn't convinced but she heeded her mother's call for help. They did need to get out of here, or at least, help Dalma and the little one evacuate.
As they busted the shutter, Dalma gave Akeem to Lunara, "take him first." Lunara argued, "No you first." Dalma pushed into Lunara harder, "No, as your mother I must know all of you are out safely. I will be right behind you."
Lunara took Akeem and she went first. Mahal and Supoke followed. But as Dalma was about to crawl through, she felt a force pull her back.
Heavy hands worn down by hard labor grabbed Dalma's dress from behind. Her strength was no match to keep her moving forward, and as the rough hands of the stranger tossed her to the ground, Dalma screamed.
Her fear called out but without an answer from hope. Dalma's shoulder hit the ground, sliding to the wall. A second man kicked the machete from her hand before she could raise it.
Dazed and confused, she was propped up, "What're you doing rattin' around?" Dalma's head was pounding, her body aching. She wouldn't answer, only try to buy her family time.
She hurled herself at one of them, a feral scream tearing from her throat. Her fingers clawed into his face, digging deep into the soft flesh of his eyes. He howled—a guttural, panicked cry—as his hands flailed, trying to rip her off. She clung with desperate, primal strength, a strength born of sheer will, the kind only a mother fighting for her family could summon.
“Get her off me!” he shouted, his voice cracking with pain and fear. The second man lunged, his hand catching her by the hair and yanking her backward with brutal force. She hit the wall with a sickening thud, the impact stealing her breath.
Before she could recover, he moved with a reflex honed by violence. The blade found her stomach, plunging deep. Her gasp turned to a choked whimper as the steel tore through flesh. She collapsed to her knees, clutching at the hilt, her trembling fingers slick with her own blood.
“Bitch,” the first spat, still rubbing at his ruined eye, his voice dripping with venom. He managed to pry one eye open, the other streaming crimson down his cheek.
The two men backed away, their boots echoing in the chaos as they disappeared, leaving her slumped in a pool of her own blood. Dalma’s breath came in shallow, shuddering gasps. Tears mingled with the blood seeping from her wound, streaking her pale face as her vision blurred. She pressed a hand to her stomach, her life spilling out between her fingers.
Were they safe?
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