Hope Sundered

The Jitsa delegation encountered no trouble during their trek east through the Southern Wilds. Keila grew more fluent in the Nokri language with each passing mile. Sekka taught her how to survive off the land when it appeared to be unyielding, while Forizu continued to develop her understanding of Nokri combat. Despite the lingering threat of a Moesa ambush, she enjoyed their time together.

The Eja community looked very similar to Sekka’s camp, though much larger. “With respect, my queen, I will lead,” Sekka told Keila as they approached. “I believe things will go smoother if they don’t know you’re our mother’s daughter.”

Keila returned Sekka’s gaze, hurt feelings evident in her eyes. “I’m not ashamed of my heritage.”

Sekka’s offered an understanding and apologetic smile. “Nor am I, my queen, but we must assume there are Moesa spies among the Eja as well.”

Keila looked down, embarrassed. He was right, and once again she’d been quick to take a defensive posture. “Of course, my brother,” she said, clasping her hands. “I apologize.”

Sekka expressed his gratitude with a solemn nod, and together they entered the Eja camp with Forizu and Ekard. Tovu, the leader of the Eja, was waiting for them in the center of the camp, along with a retinue of half a dozen armed warriors.

Keila shuddered with the realization it would be impossible to tell any of the factions apart were she to encounter them in the wilds. One would embrace her as family, one would ignore her, and one wouldn’t hesitate to take her life.

Tovu crossed his arms over his chest and frowned upon seeking Sekka. “If you’re here to persuade us to accept your god, Son of Ginica, you’ve wasted your journey. My answer is the same as my father’s, which was the same as his mother’s. We have no tolerance for hypocrites.”

Sekka clasped his hands and bowed. “We’re not here to discuss religion, Malko Tovu.” He shot a quick glance at Keila to calm the storm already brewing in her tight features. “Though for what it’s worth, I’m deeply ashamed of my own contribution to the legacy of violence among our people. I’ve had years to reflect on my actions, and I regret them.”

“What do you want, Son of Ginica?”

Still bowed, Sekka answered, “I ask for your help in dealing with a great danger that threatens us all.”

Tovu raised a hand. “I’m already aware of the war among the kokitu.”

Sekka hesitated before saying, “Then you must know how important—”

“I heard Lord Halbek has already sent every able-bodied man in Seagate to deal with the invaders.”

“Seagate’s forces won’t be enough,” Keila said, unable to remain silent any longer.

“Who are you?” Tovu demanded.

Sekka winced. Keila apologized to him with her eyes before she clasped her hands and bowed. “Forgive me, Malko Tovu. My name is Keila. I’m from Chastin, a small village to the west of Wyndham. The Azrahterans destroyed it.”

Tovu raised a curious eyebrow. “A kokitu who speaks our tongue?”

“I’ve seen this enemy first-hand,” Keila continued, ignoring his interest to avoid becoming the focus of the meeting. “Their army is massive. Even with help from Seagate and Dioria, Wyndham will be outnumbered two to one.”

Tovu waved away her concerns. “It’s still a kokitu problem. Let them handle it.”

“I thought you were allies with the Segatians,” Keila said, growing irritated by his apathy.

“Allies?” Tovu balked. “We trade with the Segatians to survive.” He pointed a condemning finger at Sekka. “The ridiculous holy war between the Jitsa and the Moesa has left us with no other choice.”

“And what choice will you have once all the Avelirians have been annihilated?” Keila fired back. “Who will you trade with then? What will you do when the Azrahterans come to enslave you?”

Tovu’s frown was taut with conflict. “It’s a kokitu war. What makes you think—”

“Because the Azrahterans conquer others for the sake of conquest. They don’t care who’s kokitu and who’s Nokri. They’ll come and take what little you have, because they can. If we’re to have any hope of saving our people, we must help the Avelirians drive these demons back across the mountains.”

“Our people?” Tovu took a closer look at her features.

Sekka sighed and Forizu muttered something under his breath.

“I’m…half Nokri,” she confessed with another apologetic glance at Sekka. Several onlookers gasped and murmurs began to circulate. “With respect, it’s a tale for another time, but please understand this crisis is bigger than all of us. The Segatians have been kind to you. Show them your gratitude by fighting alongside them now. And Wyndham will forgive the past crimes of our people if you help them during their darkest hour.”

“How can you make such a promise?” Tovu asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I was the governor of Chastin,” she answered before thinking better of it. It wasn’t a lie since her father left her in charge. Wyndham’s patriarch didn’t know that, of course, but desperate times called for desperate gambles. Sorting out the details would be tomorrow’s problem, assuming she made it that far.

“If Wyndham sees the Nokri at my side when I arrive,” she continued, “they’ll know your remorse is genuine. You’ll no longer be trapped by the past.”

She looked around at all who were assembled, not as a victim with a personal vendetta, but a citizen of two cultures, with an unbridled desire to save both. “Today there is no Jitsa, no Eja, no Moesa, and no kokitu. We must stand united as one against the Azrahterans, or tomorrow there’ll be no homeland for any of us. So, Malko Tovu, what do you say?”