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The truth behind the decline of the desert kingdom eventually reached the ears of Candace, the Guardian of Aaru Village, legacy and remnant embers of the illustrious civilisation. As the descendent of King Deshret—the bygone ruler of the sand and His people—Candace could not help but begin to question herself. No , her faith has already been shakened
The ghosts of unanswered sins had seized her by the heart upon learning that it was the actions of the Al-Ahmar that led to the downfall of His people. It was also by his folly that The Withering and Eleazar were unleashed into the world.
When Candace found out about the truth indirectly from the drunken lips of Rahman, one of the most devout of King Deshret’s followers, the shield she wielded as she made her way home suddenly felt too heavy. As though it carried the weight of her bloodline’s sins, like it demanded for her to answer for the unforgivable wrong committed by her forefather.
The Guardian’s shield, the symbol of duty and protection. The Al-Ahmar bloodline, no longer so much as a frivolous label as it became an inheritance of age-old debts unpaid. Once Candace stepped into the privacy of her own home, in a discreet corner of Aaru village, she all but dropped the shield unceremoniously. Her spear, carelessly propped against the wall, toppled to the side and caught its tip in the corner of her enclosure.
With only just enough sense left to avoid crashing into the ornaments she wore, Candace collapsed face down into bed.
She willingly took up her duties as a Guardian at the age of eight, younger than any of her predecessors, because she desired to protect the village. Despite her gentle demeanour, she trained hard to master the shield, to build up strength, to brandish a honed ruthlessness towards anything or anyone that dared threaten her people. In return, the village trusted her, the children looked up to her, and her elders heaved a sigh of relief to know that King Deshret’s legacy was in especially safe hands.
However, now that Candace has learned the truth, she found herself wracked with guilt. How could she continue to live freely in Aaru Village when she believed herself liable for Al-Ahmar’s grievous mistakes?
Footsteps tapped from behind Candace but they did not alarm her. She had already noticed the oversized blade left by the entrance when she stepped into her home.
“Babygirl?” Dehya slinked into bed beside Candace, in the restrained manner she knew the latter always preferred her to. She laid on her side with her head propped up—her body at ease but also at attention, fully concerned about her sweetheart. “What’s wrong?”
“...” Candace could not bring herself to admit to her inner turmoil. Her commitment as the Guardian of Aaru Village had always stood true like the brilliance of stars where her mother had found peace. Revealing her insecurity on the matter felt akin to denouncing her position as the Guardian then and there. “I… Can’t say it. It frightens me to speak it into existence.”
Dehya watched the crestfallen woman closely, before carefully removing her head accessory so that she could turn her head to face her. If she was willing to, that is.
“Is this about… the Scarlet King?” The mercenary dared to ask.
Candace flinched the moment she heard his title uttered. “You knew already?” She shoved her upper body up with sufficient force to shake the bed and her voice was pulled taut, just slight of a tremble.
“I, uh… I was there keeping an eye on Rahman when we found out first-hand. It was a really sudden history lesson sprung on all of us!” For now, Dehya decided against letting Candace know that Rahman’s drunken gob had already raised an uproar over at Caravan Ribat, long before Candace heard about it herself when he stumbled into the village.
The despondent Guardian collapsed back into bed, then curved away from Dehya at an angle that would surely strain her waist in no time.
“I’m… Feeling immensely guilty, for Him. I don’t know how I can continue protecting the village if I could not bring myself to face His people,” Candace murmured, gripping tightly into the sheets that began to stain darkly from her tears, “Do I still deserve to protect them?”
The space filled with silence and the occasional sniffing despite Candace's attempt to will her emotions into submission. This was no time for her to crumble; she did not want Dehya to see her like this.
"Y'know, Candace, I don't know about everyone else, but I don't resent Aaru Village the way it is today." Dehya leaned a little closer where she was certain Candace could hear her more intimately. She then hesitated for a moment, before wrapping her arms around the distraught Guardian, sufficiently slackened to be shrugged off if her gesture was not welcomed, but it was.
"It might sound incredibly selfish of me but, think about it: We might not have been able to meet otherwise," she crooned.
When Dehya did not receive a response, she babbled on, "I'm serious! If Aaru Village were a kingdom, you would be a princess while I'd probably be some lowly commoner." Dehya paused for a moment, then added, "A mercenary at most! Like how I am right now."
Dehya could sense Candace sigh heavily. She could not tell if it was in agreement or disappointment.
"A-Anyway, there is nothing that can be done to change the past, and anything we do now to—I don't know—bring everything back? Would be a huge slap to the village’s efforts, wouldn't it? When it only wanted peace all this time before we came along."
"... And in a way, peace was granted to us by Lesser Lord Kusanali as well…" The Guardian could be heard adding under her breath.
"The Dendro Archon? Well, I guess so. She was the one who saved us after all," Dehya mused aloud before shimmying closer to the quietened Candace. "The point is: I don't think anyone would hold the past against you, Miss Guardian of Aaru Village. If anyone does, I'll knock some sense into them."
"Don't you dare," said Guardian growled. It was a rather point-blank warning, to Dehya's mild amusement.
"I meant ' talk' some sense into them! Don't worry, I know how to hold back when I should!" The mercenary reassured, and it was Candace's turn to find some humour in the situation.
"As long as I don't receive any complaints about you, Miss Dehya," Candace giggled softly into the back of her hand, then fell into deep thought. Dehya waited patiently for her answer. She could feel the tension in the lean muscle gradually slip away like grains of loose sand.
Eventually, the Guardian began to wiggle within Dehya’s hold, which prompted the latter to ease away and allow her some freedom of movement. Even with her eyes puffed up and noticeably reddened, Candace took several deep breaths to mellow her expression and appear as nonchalant as she usually did, before letting herself face the sweet Dehya that had worried about her.
“Thank you, my love,” Candace breathed into the apple of Dehya’s warm cheek before giving her a fleeting peck onto the tip of her nose. “Thank you for trying to cheer me up.”
“D-Don’t mention it…” Dehya darted her eyes away, clearly flustered by the sudden reward. “It just… Uh, sort of weirded me out to see you so dejected like this.”
“Hmm? Well, I guess you could consider it a treat,” Candace jested lightly as a distraction, before swiftly changing the subject—out of embarrassment, upon realising her beloved had had a whole eyeful of her in a very sorry state.
“But Dehya?” Candace gripped her fingers into the mercenary’s cheeks and forced their eyes to meet, steeling her gaze as best as she could. “Don’t put yourself down like that again. You’re not lowly; you’re just as important as everyone else—” She released her hold and leaned forward to graze the tips of their noses, then cooed in the tone she knew Dehya always reacted to the most “—if not more.”
The mercenary’s breath hitched in her throat the moment the mellow husk hit her.
“R-Right, right… My bad, ahaha…” She would have scooted away if not for Candace slipping her arms around her in a seamless embrace. Dehya could feel herself pulled into the royal blue-gold eyes that gazed into her, with all the love reserved for those precious and dear, before their lips met in a tender, drawn-out kiss.