Sunset of the Wandering Souls

Innin had to read me the letter, my knowledge of the alphabet still locked somewhere in my amnesiac brain. He told me he was going to read it phonetically, only then did it dawn on me it was a cipher, if not something close to it. The Interior’s eastern border was fraught with instability, it made sense we’d try to encode our letters. I listened quietly, processing the words of my mother not written by her hand. Innin and I went to Luyun as emissaries of my mother, Innin shedding the role of legal king and instead taking on his role as my retainer; Pili came along to speak for the Aeces.

Luyun appeared worse than he had in the morning. His left arm was thrown uselessly across his lap, head leaning heavy in his right palm, elbow dangerously close to a bowl of what looked like rice placed on a small wooden table. He had shed his jacket, one marvelous wing feathered white and black, brown markings splotched throughout. He kept his eyes closed when he asked us, assuming we were Tani, if we’d gotten more of his medicine. He opened his eyes when Innin spoke. Luyun didn’t bother covering his wing as I sat on my knees in front of him to relay the message Innin so clearly wanted me to relay. We hadn’t gone over what I should’ve said, what I was supposed to say, I only knew what my mother had written in the letter. I only knew the way I was supposed to act as an emissary from what Innin briefly told me. I put my head to the floor, resting it on the back of my hands as I exposed my clipped wings. A symbol of power could just as easily be taken as submission, Innin had said. Without our wings, the Reissu were nothing.

I swallowed, closed my eyes, told myself I could relay the information. I could do my diplomatic duty. I stumbled over my words telling him I wasn’t to allow the Interior, the Reissu to lead a military effort into former Qotut. Unnecessary bloodshed, unnecessary killing was not something we could consciously allow. I felt his eyes move from me, and I continued on, reminding myself to talk slow. “I will lend troops,” I said, “if there is to be a campaign. We will give our support, but we will not start the war.” My bandaged fingers dug into the matted floor. “If you wish for diplomacy, I will send diplomats and emissaries in the name of the Qriacin.” I had picked my head up then to see Luyun’s eyes on Innin. “But I will not start a war.”

I held no power to him. My words as Crown Prince meant nothing when Innin was present. I was just a child with no understanding of how the world worked. Luyun narrowed yellowy-orange, bird-like eyes at Innin, stretching his remaining wing before folding it again. He looked ready to pounce on prey. Innin took his challenge, staring him down, but kept his wings mercifully tucked away. Even if Innin had lost a wing, they were much larger than Luyun’s. Vying for dominance with a Reissu would end badly for him, I figured. “And you, Innin?” Luyun asked, voice weak.

“If a war is to start,” he said, never taking his eyes off Luyun, “it will not be by Reissu hands.”

“Are you afraid? Of what?” Luyun closed his eyes, sitting up straighter through flinches of pain. “Queen Mirgen? The Accords?”

Innin stretched his back, trying his best to keep his wings tucked. “Of nothing. I will respect my s—Queen Mirgen’s decision.” He let out a cough as his ire rose.

“The Accords strangled the Reissu, and you’ll let those scoundrels do the same with the Qriacin?”

“They did nothing of the sort!” Innin hit the floor hard with his hand, letting out a torrent of coughing from raising his voice. “We agreed to them,” he finally managed through his fit.

“You were forced.”

“I will not send my people to die.” I drew their attention to me, and I tried to fit the role of king. “You asked what Innin will do, and he’s made his intentions clear. Accept it or don’t. As we’ve said, we will support a war, but we will not start it.” I bowed my head, heart hammering in my chest as I tucked my wings and passed the floor to Pili.

Pili kept his proposal short, not wanting to cause another scene after Innin and my outbursts. He would be emissary for the Ukicho Aeces, his support in diplomatic affairs would show that even the Southern Isles, while late in getting information from the continent, did not agree with the forceful extraction of the Qriacin. But if a war started, he said he’d renounce his status as an Aeces and join the Reissu in the fight.

Luyun set his jaw at that. Shock flashed across his face before it dissolved into quiet resolve. “Diatessia can’t be reasoned with,” he said. “If you won’t make the first move, then find an Ashmaryaka by the name of Arshaka.” Innin asked where he might be found, the Western Desert being vast. “He sends me letters from Ikanhaba, though I’ve no way of knowing if he’s there year-round.”

The storm broke four or five days later, the sun coming out to melt what little snow it could. I sat on the walkway outside, boots firmly in the snow as I stared at the scabs on my palms. Pili’s frostbite was almost gone, Innin’s sickness had been slept away. Luyun was better when the storm dissipated and moved north, now able to stand with the help of his crutch. I made fists with my hands, thinking about everything I could’ve—should’ve done differently in our meeting. I couldn’t dwell on it too long, leaving Bulos, heading west was our priority now. Finding Arshaka with what little information we had, was our best bet on taking back Qotut, on settling the instability in the Plains.