Hope Sundered

Keila sat alone in the tiny chamber she’d been given to use as her personal quarters. It was smaller than her old room in her father’s house but cozy, with plenty of furs, food, and a large clay jug of water. It was large enough for her to stow her gear and stretch out, which was all she needed.

With little to do after breakfast, Keila returned to her quarters while Ginica met with her advisors. Having the time to relax felt foreign, and she fought to calm her racing mind. Her instincts warned her difficult times were ahead. She knew she had to conserve her energy.

She surrendered to the sleep her body craved, waking refreshed hours later. The solitary candle was burning low, telling her it was time to meet her mother for another private conversation. Keila was eager to secure Ginica’s agreement to send her warriors to Wyndham, but she understood the woman yearned to know the daughter denied to her these many years.

Against her instincts she left her bow and knives behind and meandered through the twisting corridors toward Ginica’s chamber. She’d become familiar with the layout of the underground caverns. The musty smell of damp earth and the constant sound of dripping water no longer captured her attention.

Many of the Nokri had warmed up to her as well, smiling as they passed her, even if they said little or nothing. It was fair for them to assume she couldn’t understand them, despite her making great strides in learning the language.

Keila came to a halt as she turned the last corner before reaching her destination. Forizu blocked her path, standing with his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was far from welcoming, and nothing resembling respect.

She noticed he was armed and regretted leaving her daggers behind. Instincts were there for a reason! They locked eyes in that tense moment. Forizu leaned in and whispered three words, simple enough for her to translate: I’m watching you.

Forizu held the stare for another heartbeat before brushing past her. His footfalls left no sound as he disappeared into the cold darkness. A hunter herself, she could identify the traits which portrayed his lethal precision, and she shuddered.

Releasing a deep breath seemed to free her feet from their fixed position, and she finished the walk to her mother’s room. As she entered, Ginica smiled and approached with arms outstretched.

Keila accepted the hug, despite the awkward sensation of trying to hug a stranger like a beloved family member. Colbi was also there, and Sekka, who was reclining against the wall.

“Hello, Sekka,” she said in her limited Nokri. “How are you?”

He smiled. “I am well. You are speaking better.” He used simple words for her sake, though his voice held no condescension.

“Thank you,” she said while clasping her hands together. Ginica had told her it was a customary gesture of gratitude. Keila wanted to tell Sekka of her encounter with Forizu—she knew he’d believe her—but she couldn’t find the words. She literally didn’t know them.

Sekka could see she wanted to say something, knew she was struggling to articulate it. His brow furrowed with concern. “It’s ok,” he offered. “More words will come with time.”

Keila thanked him with a weak smile, but it was far from a solution. He needed to know one of his trusted hunters had threatened her. He needed to know Forizu could be one of the spies Ginica had talked about.

“You’re uncomfortable,” Ginica said in Avelirian. “What’s wrong?”

“Forizu stopped me in the corridor moments ago,” Keila answered, unable to hold back. She didn’t want to cause trouble, but she decided she wasn’t willing to risk her life over embarrassment. “I think he threatened me.”

Ginica considered her daughter’s words before responding. “Are you certain it was Forizu?”

“Yes.”

Ginica sighed. “That’s unfortunate.” She conveyed to Sekka what Keila said and bade him to find Forizu. He nodded and hurried out. To Keila she said, “Forizu was once a Moesa spy. He claimed to come from one of the scattered Eja tribes to learn more about Yajuel, but he turned out to be an assassin sent to kill Sekka.”

Keila’s eyes widened. “Why?”

“Sekka always had a curious mind and an open heart. As he grew, he chose to believe the teachings about Yajuel, though he kept it a secret from the Moesa. The day he took the throne after my father’s passing, he denounced the shamans and rejected their authority, calling for the Moesa to accept Yajuel. It was very brave of him, but reckless.”

From a clay pitcher she poured two cups of what appeared to be juice and handed one to Keila before continuing.

“As you might imagine, his father and the shamans were outraged. Another terrible civil war broke out; the bloodiest in recent history, in fact. Sekka and I came here to hide and recover.”

Keila took a tentative sip. “What is this?”

“We call it misra. It’s made from qayis berries that grow along the river.”

“It’s delicious!”

Ginica grinned. “I’m glad you like it, though I’m not surprised. It’s my favorite beverage.”

Keila drained her cup and asked for more. Ginica responded with a refill. “If Forizu was sent to kill Sekka, why was he allowed to roam free?” she asked.

“Sekka believed they’d become close friends and was devastated when he learned the truth. They fought, and Sekka was victorious. He not only spared Forizu’s life, but forgave him, calling him akaí. It can translate as brother, but carries a more intimate meaning of trust and loyalty. Sekka honored him for his skill and bravery and offered him a place among his ranks.

“Forizu didn’t accept at first; he begged Sekka to kill him since it’s shameful for a Moesa warrior to suffer defeat at the hands of an enemy and live, but Sekka refused. His continued respect and empathy eventually won Forizu over. We all believed he’d changed. Perhaps he’d not surrendered some of his old ways, and your arrival resurrected his true self.”

Ginica’s hardened expression softened at the sight of her agitated daughter. “I’m so sorry. I know this is all so difficult for you. There’s much to learn, much to accept. On top of all that, it seems you’ve walked out of one war and stumbled into another. Please know you’re not alone, and this will get easier in time.”

“But I don’t have time,” Keila said. “I can’t just stay here while the Azrahterans destroy my homeland! I may be part Nokri, but the Avelirians are my people too!”

“Of course,” Ginica agreed, despite the sadness in her eyes. “The elders are discussing your request as we speak, but while we’re waiting for their deliberation, I’d love for you to tell me everything about your life with Losi—unless you’re uncomfortable. Is it too soon to speak of him?”

Keila could see the eagerness in Ginica’s foreign eyes, the longing to have a piece of the life she’d been denied. Keila understood the sentiment all too well.

“He was a wonderful father,” she began, her voice shaky at first, but growing stronger with each fond memory. “He taught me how to fish, how to hunt, how to ride, how to plant and harvest. He’d sing to me nearly every night before putting me to bed.”

Ginica blushed. “He did have a lovely voice. He was quite the charmer. I once told him he should’ve been a musician.”

“He was Chastin’s governor for most of my life, almost fifteen years.”

Ginica’s delicate eyebrows arched. “Apparently you’ve been royalty all along.”

Keila chuckled and shook her head. “It doesn’t work like that in Chastin. He was elected to serve as the town’s leader. It’s only a three-year term, but everyone loved him and trusted him, so they kept re-electing him. Eventually people stopped running against him.”

She faltered and her face grew dark. “He warned everyone of the coming danger. We saw the Azrahterans camped in the valley ourselves. We had plenty of time. He warned them and they didn’t believe him! Why didn’t they believe him?”

She grew more agitated with each word. “Everyone would still be alive if they’d only trusted him like they said they did! They lied! He’d still be with me but they killed him! Their fear and ignorance killed my father!”

She had no idea she was screaming, but Ginica sat still and let her vent. Keila fought to calm herself and wiped her eyes for what felt like the thousandth time. Her temples pounded, her throat burned, and her swollen eyes stung. She realized how much she hated crying. It had to stop. Tears wouldn’t resurrect her father, and she had a mission to complete.

“If I know Losi, he did everything possible to save as many as he could, regardless of what people believed,” Ginica offered. “I know his first priority would’ve been your survival, but I also know he wouldn’t abandon anyone else to death if he thought he could save them as well, even if it cost him the chance to escape with you.”

It amazed Keila how well this woman knew her father despite being apart for so long. Her intimate knowledge of him made Keila feel she’d been there the entire time. But if she had, would she have been slain on the beach beside him? Would he have insisted she join Keila in the boat, or would Ginica have fought by his side to save their daughter?

“Chastin sounds like a lovely place,” Ginica continued.

Keila wiped her cheek. “It was. We were secluded and safe, surrounded by miles of forest. The lake is so large you can’t see the other side. Days of endless adventures. Many friends and a wonderful fiancé. I didn’t have a care in the world.”

“So you don’t remember Craeda’s Hill?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t. We must’ve moved shortly after…”

“After I left?”

Keila looked away, embarrassed. “I didn’t want to say it like that.”

“It doesn’t reflect my heart, but it’s the truth.” Ginica sighed out her own frustration. “It does seem to define our people, though. Even when we win, we lose.”

Keila took her mother’s hand in her own. “Not anymore.” Her voice was resolute. “First, we’ll deal with the Azrahterans, and then put an end to the Moesa faction once and for all. We’ll no longer be victims, Mother. We’ll fight them together!”

Ginica smiled and her eyes glistened.

“What?” Keila asked, afraid she’d further upset this woman, this Nokri queen with whom she so desperately needed to forge an alliance.

“You called me Mother,” Ginica answered, her soft voice catching. “Thank you.”

Keila bit back her own fresh tears. The word emerged by accident—but perhaps not. In truth it felt as natural as it sounded. Was this genuine acceptance? Were they actually connecting?

This woman was indeed her mother. She could no longer deny it. They were not only similar in appearance, but character and personality as well. And if nothing else, the intimate knowledge they shared of Losigalender bonded them as only family could.

They’d never reminisce about Keila’s first words, or the first time she climbed a tree, or the countless other beautiful moments she’d shared with her father, but they could build new memories with the precious time they had left.

Ginica smiled and squeezed Keila’s hand. “Together then.”