105 — Haesan

The march north is made almost entirely in silence. Everyone is still trying to process what on Pachil we faced, and what took place after we thought the battle was over. But we’re too worn down, too tired to think, let alone think and drag our feet at the same time. The exhaustion is palpable, hovering around our ranks like an unwelcome guest who refuses to leave. We had thought the battle was over, that victory was in our grasp, only to be thrust into a nightmare that left us questioning everything.

Despite our weariness, the only decision we all knew for certain was to get as far away from Qapauma as possible. With the infighting occurring in the Pachil capital, the Qantua warriors expressed how they were not certain for whom they should be fighting, or which side to choose. Now, they seem adrift, caught between loyalties and a future they cannot predict. Inuxeq tried her best to assuage their fears about what this all means, but I can tell the warriors were less than convinced by her efforts.

I, too, fear what this signals. We’re hardly a harvest removed from the end of the War of Liberation, and already, there are those seeking to depose the ruler. The uneasy peace we thought we had secured now feels like a fragile dream, shattering at the slightest provocation.

I walk the familiar road, with the Gates of Ipa towering ahead. Their massive stone formations cast long shadows over the surrounding golden fields. I’ve walked this path before — once in desperation, fleeing the chaos of Qapauma, and again with hope, driven by the desire to aid the Qente Waila. Now? I’m uncertain how I feel. However, this time, I’m accompanied by the Qantua and Inuxeq, and I walk with purpose, no longer that scared girl who passed through here before.

Inuxeq strides beside me, her presence a steadying force. As I gaze upon her, my mind tries to comprehend how I was able to make such a daring escape, all thanks to her. How was that possible? Until my encounter with the Eye in the Flame, I felt that all magic vanished once the Eleven sacrificed themselves to vanquish the Timuaq. Now, I don’t know what to believe anymore.

My eyes inspect the coral stone hanging from her neck, the gemstone that sporadically glows. She catches me staring at it, and I do a poor job of pretending I wasn’t gawking at the improvised necklace. Fortunately, she doesn’t appear annoyed or angered, instead looking at me curiously.

“I can’t tell you much about it. The gemstone, that is.” She answers the question I hadn’t asked, but intended to. “One of the Arbiter’s advisors, Xaqilpa, was in possession of it. I assumed it would be best kept in my possession until I can find out what it is, rather than someone with ill intentions happening upon it.”

“Xaqilpa,” I recite the name as if testing it on my tongue. “I recall Achutli speaking to him in the throne room once. He was angry at this Xaqilpa, if my memory serves.”

Inuxeq looks at me as though she’s judging or questioning me, a look she displays often that makes me feel I’m being doubted or scrutinized. Uncertain what she finds issue with, I return her look, expecting her to explain herself. After our wordless stare down, it appears I’m the one to break first, asking her, “what is the look for?”

Judging by her reaction to this, Inuxeq must not have been aware of her expression, looking taken aback by my question. “You appeared upset at something I said,” I explain myself once more. I’m exhausted physically from the conflict in Qapauma, but now I’m mentally exhausted at trying to figure out what is going on between us.

Fortunately, my clarification seems to resonate with her. She says, “you don’t call him by his title? Are you not Tapeu? And… are you not his daughter?”

“It’s… complicated,” I respond. Once again, she makes this face of bewilderment, but I decide that, right now, I don’t have the time — nor patience — to go into my history with the man. Instead, I say, “Personal matters aside, I refuse to honor his title when he only seeks what is in his best interests, not that of Pachil.”

“And that’s why you joined the resistance?” she asks. “To depose your father? Because he is selfish?”

“In a way,” I say hesitantly. “As I said, it’s complicated. However, Achutli cannot even keep his house in order, let alone an entire continent of nine factions. There must be a ruler who wants all of Pachil to prosper, not those that he favors because they have bought his loyalty.”

Inuxeq nods in understanding, seeming to accept this answer. “To be honest, I don’t know what to think about the Arbiter,” she says disheartenedly. “The Tuatiu are taught loyalty and to respect one’s leaders. We are raised to embrace unity and unwavering support for those in command, believing that a cohesive society stands stronger against any adversary.”

“I believe, to receive respect, one must earn respect,” I reply. “Blind loyalty can lead to ruin if the leaders themselves are corrupt. It’s crucial to hold them accountable to truly uphold the values we as a society cherish.”

Inuxeq grunts in acknowledgement. “After what I witnessed in Qapauma, I’m undecided whether he has earned my respect. On the battlefield, he fought valiantly, not backing down from any enemy, as a good leader should. But he sent his advisor, Sianchu, to utilize our warriors for a campaign against the Ulxa, which, I come to discover, is based on misinformation. He shouldn’t be attacking the Ulxa; he should be attacking the Eye in the Flame. Except, he doesn’t seem to care about the distinction, seeking to destroy all whose origin is Ulxa.”

“It’s likely his ear was poisoned by Xaqilpa’s words,” I say. “From my studies of Pachil’s history, the Tapeu and Ulxa have never gotten along. But I believe Achutli was working with the Ulxa councilor for some means of consolidating his power. From what I had overheard, he seemed keenly aware of the Eye in the Flame, yet he wanted them contained, not eliminated.”

Inuxeq scowls at this information. “Working with the cult? I was under the impression of such a possibility, as unlikely as it would seem, but it’s infuriating to find it to be true, especially given…” She appears upset, grimacing at the thought, before completing her statement, “the source who spoke to me of the matter.”

She lets those words hang in the brisk Tapeu air, shaking her head in disbelief. There’s something underlying her comment, but I’m hesitant to press her to tell me more. It appears to be a bitter topic, something that eats away at her, and I sense there are unsettling feelings of shame and regret behind this.

In our silence, I note how, though she’s a relative stranger, I feel a certain confidence that I’ve deduced the situation and her feelings precisely. It’s reminiscent of the sensation I felt at figuring out Onixem’s intentions, or the moment in the throne room when, I believe, I prevented Aluxeqwel and Teqotlo from conducting further gruesome slayings in the name of the twisted version of their god. But was that a result of my influence, or simply my intuition or wishes? Is this some special capability I possess, or is it all purely coincidental?

In that vein, what do I make of Inuxeq? Once again, my thoughts return to this notion of magic — how obsessed over this have I become? Still, there are many questions that need to be answered. And our trek north is long.

I try my best to hide my uncertainty and lack of confidence, but I don’t know how to start this conversation with Inuxeq. Will she find me to be a lunatic? One susceptible to believing in tall tales and legends like a child? Nevertheless, I fill my chest with a deep, calming breath, and dive into the question head-first.

“Inuxeq,” I say, already hearing — and loathing — the nervous tone in my voice. She grunts an acknowledgement, her eyes still surveying the horizon. “Back there, in Qapauma…”

“What about it?” she mutters, her attention not fully on our conversation.

“How did we… How were we able to…” My mouth can’t form the question, as my mind is unable to grasp what even happened.

As though she was stating an obvious, mundane fact, Inuxeq answers, “The disappearing thing.” It’s said as if she mentions how the grass is green, or how water is wet.

“So, you have done this before?” I inquire, curious about this nonchalant manner in which she is speaking about this supernatural phenomenon.

She shrugs. “Not at all.” Due to her seeming indifference with regards to her abilities, this response and how it’s delivered catches me by surprise. She continues, “Upon my arrival, beyond these Gates of Ipa in Qapauma, was the first moment I observed these powers. Or, rather, it was observed by others.”

“You’ve only had experience with this ability for a day?” My remark sounds as though I don’t believe her, but it’s because of how she appears unaffected by this realization that I’m completely caught off guard. To add to this notion, she simply responds to me with her characteristic shrug and grunt in acknowledgement.

“How were you made aware you had the power to…” I can’t determine how, or what, to ask with my follow-up question. What did Inuxeq do? Did she make us disappear and reappear at a destination of her choosing? Were we running invisibly and undetected to the location? Did she stop time for a few heartbeats to have us relocate, and for the action to resume once we were in relative safety? Just what happened when the world went black for that brief moment?

Once again, Inuxeq shrugs, her eyes still fixed to the horizon, as if this conversation doesn’t interest her. “I don’t know what happens. When I did it, several warriors were trapped by the gray creatures of the Eye in the Flame. I wanted to create a diversion, to distract the beasts and give them a chance to escape. They were about to be slaughtered, and after that, the monsters would turn their ire toward us. We were all ill-equipped to handle them, especially in such narrow streets with no room to maneuver. I didn’t know what else to do. In my mind, I saw the place I wanted to go, and I ran for it, thinking I would draw the gray creatures’ attention to me. Instead, I found I was behind them, and they hadn’t noticed me. Those who saw me say I vanished one moment, then reappeared the next.”

Inuxeq pauses for a moment, her attention focused on something out in the amber plains. She momentarily clutches the hilt of the dagger at her hip as her eyes narrow to assess what it is. When she realizes whatever phantom she saw isn’t a threatening presence, she resumes her recounting of events. “Your flooding of the streets helped us gain an opportunity to get into a better defensive position to protect the palace.” She nods, which is perhaps the biggest sign of gratitude she can exude.

I look down at her coral amulet, curious about its significance. “Do you think the gemstone provides your abilities?”

Inuxeq shakes her head. “What happened to me was before I obtained this,” she briefly looks down at the gemstone before returning to attentively looking out for potential threats. “It was on Xaqilpa, that scum of a councilor to the Arbiter. Secured inside a tumi knife. At the time, I believed it was what gave him his powers. I dislodged it with my arrow, and he seemed terrified of that, running away like a coward. I chased him, but then he disappeared at the palace. I think his abilities extended beyond the gemstone.”

“I believe I know what may have happened,” I say, wincing. “There are a series of underground tunnels and secret passageways beneath the palace, leading to various locations throughout the grounds. I don’t know where they all start and end, but I used one to get a group of sorcerers to vacate a location where they could have completely annihilated the palace forces.”

Inuxeq scowls, visibly seething at this realization. She punches a fist into her open palm, shaking her head in frustration. Hoping to distract her and calm her down, I attempt to divert the conversation. “If you obtained abilities without the need of a gemstone, then I wonder if I, too, possess capabilities. Well, I can’t speak confidently that I do.” Hearing the words leave my lips, I immediately feel foolish.

“You can vanish, as well?” She glances at me momentarily. This suddenly piques her interest.

My memory traces back to the throne room and the horrifying rituals, the grizzly scene caused by Aluxeqwel and Teqotlo. “For me, it was during these horrific sacrifices as the two Eye in the Flame sorcerers were slaughtering a slew of nobles in order to perform some dark ritual. I felt this overwhelming desire for them to stop, wanting them to see the disgusting cruelty in their ways. They perked up, as if they were listening to something, and then they… stopped.”

Inuxeq chuckles at this. “You wished them away? It could be happenstance.”

“That’s what I thought,” I say, trying not to sound defensive, because I genuinely am not certain what took place in that room. “But then, when Onixem apprehended me… Yes, she’s the one who killed her parents, those sorcerers. Anyway, I thought it again, wishing she would let me go, repeating over and over in my head how I was not the enemy, pleading with her to not go through with this plan. And just like her parents, she appeared as if she was listening to something, to someone speaking to her. Was it me? I can’t be certain. But I find it coincidental for her to follow through with what I was asking her to do.”

At this, Inuxeq’s eyes narrow, calculating some plan in her mind. I watch her search the clouds above for an answer, mulling over ideas in her head. Suddenly, she turns to me with a determined look. “Alright, Haesan. If you have the ability to influence thoughts or actions, or wish them away or whatever, we need to see it. Let’s start simple.”

Inuxeq points to a group of Qantua warriors, dragging their feet as they march on exhaustedly. They share a stale loaf of bread, likely one of the last remaining food items they’ve brought for the excursion to Qapauma. “Try to get one of those warriors to do something they wouldn’t normally do,” she dares me. “Maybe get one to give you his weapon or share his rations.”

“I don’t think they would give me their weapon,” I say nervously. “They hardly know me.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” Inuxeq responds, looking at me with bafflement. “Look, that group over there? They’re skeptical — they’ve been questioning this mission since we departed Hilaqta — and they’re unlikely to help without reason. Getting one of them to do something out of character would perfectly prove you’re not just willing something to happen; you’re actually affecting someone in the way of your choosing.”

“I’m… not sure how to do this,” I say hesitantly. “Wouldn’t they — “

“Just walk up there, making sure they don’t notice you — if they see you staring at them, they might take pity on you and hand you their bread unprovoked. So walk a little behind them and, I dunno, have them toss the bread over their shoulder to you or something. You’re smart; you’ll figure it out.”

I take a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll try.” I reluctantly approach them, doing as Inuxeq said and making sure they don’t notice my presence. I stare intently at the back of the head of one of the warriors, practically studying every follicle of black hair that lightly traipses his shoulders. Attached to his back is a short obsidian sword, its handle and paddle nicked and scratched from being in numerous battles. In the diffused light, the black obsidian still glimmers, well kept and maintained.

I’m not sure I can do that, asking for a weapon. It feels intrusive, like a betrayal of trust. Yet he doesn’t know me — outside of being someone rescued by Inuxeq, the Qantua warriors are unlikely to know who I am.

I still can’t bring myself to demand his weapon, so instead, I focus on the bread.

Give me the bread, I think, narrowing my eyes as I focus on him. What am I even trying to look at? His mind? His skull? I feel absurd. If anyone was watching me along with Inuxeq, they’d think I have gone mad.

Give me the bread, I say forcefully inside my mind. I feel my mouth contorting, my facial muscles straining as I will him to give me the dried piece of bread. The warriors don’t respond, carrying on with their jovial conversation.

Come on! Now, I’m practically pleading. Just, please! Give me the bread! Even just the heel, something!

Still no reaction. I turn to look at Inuxeq, feeling hopeless. She motions her head as if she’s wordlessly urging me on. Does she think I haven’t been trying? Perhaps I don’t have abilities after all. Perhaps it was all coincidental. Perhaps Onixem, Teqotlo, and Aluxeqwel happened to have a change of heart, realizing the error of their ways on their own.

I replay the events in my mind, hoping something stands out. What did those two occasions have in common? What could it be? What could it be? I remember that, in both instances, I essentially pleaded with them, trying to appeal to them to let me go, or let the nobles go. Perhaps I need to do the same to these warriors. If I can influence just one of them, that should be enough.

I take one more deep breath. Warrior, I say, speaking sweetly with the voice inside my head. I would like for you to give me the bread, please. I’m in desperate need of it, and only you can help me. Please…

I feel my heart genuinely ache at the thought of this effort failing. I hadn’t thought about it, but deep down, I eagerly want this to succeed. I’m more than willing it to happen; I completely desire success with every fiber of my being.

Please…

The warrior holding the bread stops walking. He cuts off his conversation with the others immediately, looking around as though he hears a voice. Is he hearing my voice? Slowly, he turns around, finding me standing before him, draped in an overside black and gold tunic from when Inuxeq had one of the warriors lend me so I can stay warm.

Then, as if the entire situation suddenly makes sense to him, he smiles warmly at me. “Ah, you there,” he says cheerfully, extending his hand that holds the chunk of bread. “You look like you need this more than I do. Here, take it.

My eyes grow wide in surprise. I turn to look at Inuxeq, who, with mouth agape, nods and urges me to accept it. Cautiously, I take the piece of bread, bewilderedly thanking him. The other warriors look at him in disbelief.

“Hey!” they shout. “Why’d you give her our bread? That’s all we have left, you idiot!” They begin striking him in annoyance, yet he continues to gaze at me, unfazed. As he’s being smacked and walloped, he nods, smiling as though we’re longtime friends, like he’s proud to have done such a feat.

Inuxeq sprints over. “Hey, you fools! Knock it off! Here, you animals…” She unties a pouch at her side and pours out pieces of dried figs into her hand before tossing the bag to one of the angered warriors. “Take this, as an expression of my gratitude for your generosity to the poor servant girl.”

Confused, the warriors stare at the pouch curiously, then look back to Inuxeq to make sure this isn’t some trick. She looks at them as though she can’t believe they aren’t grasping the situation, shooing them with her hand and saying, “Okay, then. Run along now. Go!”

The warriors squabble over the dried figs, pulling the other warrior along with them as he finally seems to come to, like awakening from a deep sleep. I hear him inquiring about what happened to the bread they were sharing as they all walk away. I turn to Inuxeq, who is as equally as shocked as I am.

“Alright, I will confess,” she begins, a smile slowly creasing the corners of her mouth, “I did not expect that to actually work. Sun and sky, Haesan! What on Pachil did you do!”

We share a laugh in stunned amazement, giggling like two children realizing they got away with stealing some freshly-made amaranth cakes. What did I do? I, too, can’t believe that worked, astonished that —

“Wait a moment.” This feels like a recent, past experience I’ve shared with her. Realizing this, I ask Inuxeq, “When you saw me being apprehended by the Qente Waila, you said afterwards that you weren’t certain that gambit would work. Were you also unaware of the extent of your abilities?”

She grins coyly. “Well, during a battle I had with Xaqilpa and the two Eye in the Flame sorcerers, I was able to vanish from one place and reappear in another of my choosing, where I focused my attention. All items I possessed — my weapons, my satchel, my empty quiver, this gemstone — everything came with me.”

I gaze upon her warily, wondering where this conversation will go — and largely anticipating an answer with which I’ll be less than thrilled. She continues, “When I saw you being accosted, I tried to look for the best way to escape, to have you get out of there without the need to fight anyone and potentially kill someone, which would cause more unrest. I thought about running in there and dragging you out, hoping I could get you to the Qantua warriors waiting just beyond the walls; they had been wisely backing away from the skirmish as the other two sides came together. So, I put my head down, and…” She makes a poof explosion gesture with her hands, as if that should wordlessly explain everything.

To me, it does not. “So you ran in there on a whim?” I ask, perplexed. “You had no idea if it would work, but you tried it anyway? What if it hadn’t? What if you ran in there and they apprehended you, as well? They could’ve deemed you an accomplice to whatever Onixem claimed I was doing! You could’ve endangered lives by doing that! What — “

Inuxeq shushes me. Curious eyes of the nearby Qantua warriors wander over to us, checking to see what the commotion is about. In a hushed tone, Inuxeq says, “I know it sounds reckless, Haesan, but I assessed the situation quickly, and decided that saving you was worth the risk. I saw the Qantua warriors nearby and knew they would intervene if needed. I didn’t act without thought, okay? I’ve been in countless battles, and I’ve learned to trust my instincts — they’ve kept me alive this long, after all. And in that moment, I trusted that my powers would help us. I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing while you were in danger. If I had hesitated, you might still be in their custody, or worse.”

“Besides,” she continues, “I needed to know if my abilities were reliable in a real situation. Now we both do. And look, it worked, didn’t it? We’re both here, safe, and now we’ve both confirmed something crucial about our abilities.”

I scoff, looking away in exasperation. She stops me, grabbing my shoulders, and her eyes soften as she looks at me. “I would never recklessly endanger anyone intentionally, and I did what I thought was necessary to keep us safe. I’m doing my best to keep us all alive. But if you need more assurances, I’ll be more careful and plan more thoroughly next time.”

I sigh. I know she means well, that she wants to protect those fighting for the right side of history, fighting for Pachil. She’s a warrior through and through, taking on daring challenges head-on. It’s in her nature. Who am I to tell her to go against that?

“I suppose,” I start to confess, unable to meet her eyes as I speak my truth, “I don’t find myself worthy of being saved. Already, I’ve had my life endangered because of my actions, and in all of those instances, I’ve needed someone to rescue me from peril. I feel as though I’m causing more harm than good. I’m not used to someone caring for my safety, especially that of a relative stranger.”

Inuxeq frowns, then rests a consoling hand upon my shoulder. “Listen, Haesan, I don’t know you well, but I can see you have a strong spirit. We’ve all been thrown into this fight, facing dangers we never imagined. You’ve done things none of us thought possible. You saved lives in Qapauma, and that’s not something to dismiss lightly. We all need saving sometimes. That doesn’t make you weak — it makes you human. You’re a part of this because you matter, because you have the strength to make a difference. Don’t doubt that.”

She ducks her head low so that I’m forced to meet her gaze. “We’re now in this together, whether you like it or not,” she says with a smirk, “and we’ll keep each other safe. So, next time you think you’re not worthy of being saved, remember that you already have saved others.”

Inuxeq looks upon me with warmth, giving me a reassuring nod. I eke out a small, partial smile, appreciating the sentiment. To go from not having anyone care for me for nearly all of my life, and now happening upon not only Nuqasiq and Yachaman, but also Inuxeq? Someone whom I just met sees value in me? Reflecting upon this causes me to fight back the lump forming in my throat.

“Alright,” I say through a few sniffles. “We’ve been aimlessly heading north, but we should formulate a plan. We need to figure out what to do about Qapauma, and these Qantua warriors of yours.”

“And the Eye in the Flame,” Inuxeq adds. “And Mexqutli, that double-crossing snake, that — “

“All of it,” I interrupt, before she spirals into a state of fury and frustration.

The dying sun reminds us of how long we’ve journeyed from Qapauma. The cool evening air begins settling into the plains. I start to grow despondent, knowing Nuqasiq and Yachaman remain in the capital city, trapped and at the mercy of the civil war brewing there. There must be something we can do, something that merges the needs of both Inuxeq and myself, so that precious time is not being wasted.

An idea comes to mind. “Okay, so hear me out,” I begin, growing encouraged as the plan slowly forms in my mind’s eye. “We need to track down the Eye in the Flame, making sure they’re vanquished for good. And we need to find this Mexqutli fellow, too. I also would like to ensure Nuqasiq and my dear friend, Yachaman, are safe.”

“With the war heating up between the Achutli loyalists and Jade Hummingbird,” Inuxeq notes, “we won’t be able to walk in there without a huge army behind us. I’m talking some serious numbers, some ‘you have to listen to us’ kind of numbers.”

I nod in agreement. “And we shouldn’t endanger the Qantua warriors needlessly if we can help it. They didn’t join to be a part of some internal Tapeu squabbles.”

“I wouldn’t ask them to, certainly,” Inuxeq says. “They’re here to defeat the Eye in the Flame.”

Now I see the plan, seeing everything falling into place. “If the surviving zealots traveled north, they’ll be in Aimue territory. And I believe the Aimue be inclined to join us. They’ve been oppressed twice over — once by the Timuaq, and through Achutli. Adding the Eye in the Flame into the mix will only encourage them further. If they’ve already suffered at the hands of the cultists, they will be more than inclined to aid us in defeating the evil that plagues our lands. That can be our army!”

Inuxeq winces. “They’ve also been assaulted by the Eye in the Flame. Their numbers have taken a devastating blow. Besides, training a bunch of farmers will take some time.”

My heart aches at the thought of yet more people who have suffered at the hands of these cultists. If their population has been depleted, there may not be enough to accumulate into a large army. Unless…

A new wrinkle to my plan develops. “Fighting against their oppressors should expedite that. If we present it as a fight for their freedom, for their very existence, we can ignite a fire within them. We can show them that they’re not alone in this struggle, that their fight is our fight, too. The Aimue are resourceful and resilient. With proper leadership and training, they could become a formidable force. We need to appeal to their sense of justice and survival.”

Inuxeq considers this. “They have nothing to lose, certainly. And a lot to gain. It’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

“We shall go to Qelantu Loh,” I declare. “There are Qente Waila loyalists there, which makes me uneasy, to say the least. Yet, with your support and that of the Qantua, we may be able to unite the Atima refugees under a common cause.”

Inuxeq raises an eyebrow. “Atima refugees? I didn’t know they still existed. You think they will fight? A bunch of scholars?”

“They have been displaced and oppressed for so long,” I explain. “The Timuaq, as well as many rulers who’ve sat on that throne in Qapauma, have taken so much from them. They have been seeking a chance to restore their honor and place in Pachil. With their knowledge, combined with the strength of the Qantua and the resolve of the Aimue, we can form a formidable alliance.”

Inuxeq nods slowly, considering the plan. “Alright, that could work. If we can convince the Atima refugees and the Aimue to support us, we might have a formidable force. But we need to be strategic about it. And we need to show them we’re capable and serious.”

I nod. “Agreed. We need to ensure we approach the right people and build trust slowly. The Qantua warriors can act as our guardians while we make our case to the leaders of the camp. Once we secure their allegiance, we can march to Aimue and present our united front. The combination of Atima knowledge, Qantua strategy, and Aimue numbers will make us a force to be reckoned with.”

Inuxeq’s skeptical gaze softens slightly. “And you believe they’ll listen to us? As you’ve said, they’ve been oppressed and betrayed before.”

“They will listen,” I assert, “because they’ll see the truth in our cause. We’re not fighting for power or territory; we’re fighting to rid Pachil of malignant forces that threaten us all. The Eye in the Flame must be eradicated, and the Pachil that was fought for in the War of Liberation must be recognized and achieved. And the only way to do that is through unity.”

“So we’re liberators, then?” Inuxeq asks rhetorically. “Fighting for our freedom once again.”

“It’s a tale as old as time itself, sadly,” I say. “But we have to take back our lands and make an earnest effort to restore peace.”

Inuxeq smiles a vulpine grin. “I don’t generally support such idealism and naïve optimism. But maybe your powers are at work here. You’ve convinced me. Let’s regroup in Qelantu Loh and build ourselves an army.”

I smile, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. We march onward, leaving the Gates of Ipa behind and head towards Qelantu Loh. The cool evening air fills my lungs, and for the first time in a while, I feel a glimmer of hope, delicate yet undeniable. The path ahead is laden with obstacles, yet it’s clearer than it has ever been.