Chapter Text
If Nahida was over-conscious about one thing, it was that her General Mahamatra ached for freedom almost as much she herself did. Thus, she obliged to never intrude into his thoughts and only read on the surface she was allowed to see. She soon found out the honesty her Grand Scribe often admired was raw and absolute as his incapacity to morph his facial expression.
The effort he put into his subtlest jokes was always greatly appreciated too, for it made even the most tedious meetings with the new Sages brighten on Nahida’s ears. Cyno, as General Mahamatra, used to have no reason to be attending those discussions, but Nahida insisted on his judgment being of great aid and —she knew he needed this— this way he could make sure firsthand that no one else would be putting their hands into the matra’s affairs.
Still, Cyno rarely raised his voice or opinions, unless the Sages began to discuss too strongly and he decided to cut them off with some humorous retort. Both Nahida and the Scribe, Alhaitham, used to smile whenever that happened, opposite to the questioning expressions or sighs coming from the others.
Nahida was the archon of Sumeru, Lord Kusanali. She was smart —for all the knowledge sent into the roots of the world were a gift for her—, had lived longer than most —even if she did so inside a crystal jail— and wished to be as great as she once was. She did not remember what happened prior to the wars five hundred years ago, for the world refused sharing those memories with her. But they —the people, the documents, the memories inside her own valve— say she used to be greater. Never say that she wasn’t currently great, but still; greater.
Some people, after suffering a great shock or damage, tended to forget about things on purpose; this was not even a conscious purpose but a defensive purpose that sprung on its own. Nahida couldn’t fathom this being her case for this would mean she’d have some mean to force the knowledge back —there always was, for better or worse—, but had no other choice than to resolve the issue to it, at least with her current amount of information.
Nevertheless, Nahida was strong. Truly strong, in words of the quiet traveler, who was the most powerful person Sumeru had met thus far.
Nahida had her Scribe to guide her with directing the Akademiya and her General Mahamatra to help with the law system. Both of them, sadly, tended to work always towards the scholars, even if none of them left the rest of Sumeru people out of their plans; Alhaitham usually found ways for the Akademiya and the citizens to not go clashing edges with each other; Cyno only made sure his judgment delivered equally to everyone, regardless of their status.
So, when the stars were pointing to a certain date, she decided to go to the desert and asked for Cyno’s guidance through it. She often eloped to the forests alone, when nobody paid attention, but the desert was a place too far from her reach, from her roots; she felt uncertain about traveling inside the sands on her own. Cyno, in other hands, filled his little free time overseeing the course of educational activities promoted there by the Akademiya.
When she proclaimed her desire, her Scribe and General exchanged glances. She let them do, for there was no predictable outcome of them refusing. They, too, had been expecting the day she finally decided to pay a personal visit there, but never did more than suggest between all of their workload. Alhaitham agreed first.
“I’ll see that everything remains clean over here on your absence. Enjoy yourselves” he dismissed their presences with a light nod before resuming his writing.
Nahida saw the small dump of Cyno’s shoulders and his inaudible sigh for the Scribe’s pragmatic attitude. But truly, there was not much else for them to greet goodbye upon, the Mahamatra would keep his archon safe and sound, so there was no reason for wishing to their already granted safety. She raised a hand to tap the General’s elbow, gaining his full attention instantly.
“We must get ready. I’ll follow your guidance, Cyno” she explained in a whispering motion and turned her head to the door. As she began walking, her General’s footsteps soon matched her pace. The man did not speak until they reached the corridor leading exclusively to Nahida’s personal chamber.
“My Lord, I am unaware of the needs you may-”
“Cyno. What is my favorite drink, currently?”
“The Berry and Mint Burst.”
“Food?”
“Candied Ajilenakh Nuts” Nahida smiled contently, a hand already on her doors that could only be unlocked with a flow of her Dendro energy, but Cyno continued. “None of them are dishes I would recommend bringing into the dessert… Ajilenakh Nuts, in fact, are fine although the candy will melt, but any drink aside from water will make the body react strange after a long period of time spent under the sun… the human body, that is” he explained and Nahida’s smile grew up to her eyes.
“But, you see! If it weren’t for your advice, I would just pack my preferred sustenance for the trip. I’d like to go, Cyno, not as the Dendro archon, but as a friend” to Cyno’s lightly concerned frown, she opened the doors. “Come on in, we shall discuss the attire too.”
Nahida’s chambers were filled with greens, whites and shiny items, toys and pillows well preserved on their own ‘structure’, whilst the colorful books were safely guarded inside tiny shelves; it was a child’s room no matter the effort she put into adding some maturity into the design. Cyno seemed to judge something similar, for there was the ghost of a smile hovering his lips. The archon walked up to her bed and opened the chest at it’s end, where all her special event outfits were kept, then signaled for her General to approach.
“I know the heels and heavy footwear are a no-no already” she beamed, taking her dresses out while ignoring the elegant little shoes and big boots.
“You could take the sandals if you want, but if they get sandy it will itch your toes, I don’t wear any special shoes when I visit the desert” the General Mahamatra contemplated something and Nahida had to remind herself not to intrude. “The cloak” the man finally pointed to one of the dressing pieces she took out of the chest.
The archon blinked at the light white cape that she guessed was there to cover her from the rain —she never, so far, used it for that though; she loved the rain!—, and held it up in front of her.
“To block the sun?” she almost forgot people would need some cover, unless they were looking to achieve a heatstroke.
“And the sand, if winds arise” Cyno observed the clothing once again and nodded to the fast choices made upon the bed. “The cloak will work and any of these dresses, minus the third, shall make you comfortable.”
“Why not the third?” in shape, it was almost the same as the other two, it only had a darker green tone.
“For it is, too clearly, a gift from the Akademiya” Nahida couldn’t refute that, but decided not to wonder why the desert or it’s inhabitants would dislike the dress. “I’ll ask my seamstress to fix a new pair of stocking so you won’t get these dusty.”
Nahida folded her cape against her belly and had to look down for a moment.
“I was thinking that we could depart today.”
“We will, my Lord. A pair of our footwear equals a handkerchief to her” Cyno assured fast, but not fast enough for it to be perceived as a lie. “Regardless, you shall change, pack or choose supplies to first reach Caravan Ribat and, so, I should be back before midday with my own issues settled.”
Nahida blinked again. Right. Her General had to make sure the matra wouldn’t be looking after him during the next days and also had to pack his own belongings —maybe actually say goodbye to the Scribe, too—; she only made sure he had no active jobs at the moment. She smiled and bowed her head lightly. How mature of a Lord… She wasn’t naive, she knew those things, but was not free of the newfound impulses that freedom carried along; sometimes she was just too childishly egoistic, though.
“Three hours until the sun crowns the sky… See how you were a good choice, if not the best? Thank you, Cyno.”
“There’s no need, my Lord” the man actually bowed, a hand firmly on his chest, before retreating from her chambers.
It did not come as any surprise that the General Mahamatra had managed to get back at the Sanctuary of Surasthana not even two hours later with everything at the ready. The man himself, though, did look surprisingly different and not different at all; Cyno’s jackal headgear was nowhere to be seen but the ornaments on the hood of his cape replaced the function precisely.
As they departed from the Akademiya, the scholars and matra passing around stopped to look at them or stepped aside to make room for them to walk. They bowed if they noticed her stare, but all of them were making really extreme assumptions solely based on the cylindrical briefcase that the General was carrying; ‘Are they going to visit another nation for political reasons?’; ‘Are they going to fight on the desert?’; ‘Is that tiny green bag of hers filled with food too? My Lord is the best out of the seven nations, with this simple act, our General doesn’t look as scary anymore!’; ‘Should I tell my partner to be careful or take a picture now that they’re not- oh, oh’; ‘Could she fit inside his briefcase?’
Nahida could no longer contain the chuckle that was fighting to escape her mouth and Cyno almost stopped to ask where that came from, but she took his hand and pulled him to continue walking down the Divine Tree.
“I am happy” she did admit once the amount of people around them decreased, “It has been a while since I last came out personally, today is beautiful, people is lively and the sun is gentle. I’ve missed this feeling.”
“If you do get tired at any moment, I shall carry you.”
Kusanali beamed brightly, the core inside of her that resembled a heart felt warming up, for Cyno did not let go of her hand and, instead, held it gently. The people they met down on the city were too mesmerized to form coherent thoughts, minus for that of a little girl thinking ‘How nice it must be to have a big brother…’
Nahida woke up first during the early morning at Caravan Ribat, making sure the stars were still pointing to the right date… Whatever that meant, she still had to find out. The land and the skies shared secrets with her every now and then, and some were more difficult to decipher than others. Maybe she was meant to travel alone to find out but she could not, hence, resolved that managing to discover this whispered secret wasn’t truly an urgent matter, unlike meeting the desert and its people.
There she noticed one curious thing upon their arrival. The eremites and mercenaries opinion about Cyno was high, curious and oddly proud, as if he were a living legend, for he was one of the few children of the desert who’ll have their name written down on Sumeru’s History; the scholars and hunters, in other hands, their thoughts made her sigh. Luckily, none of them seemed to be in the middle of any activity that would concern the matra, so she could keep quiet about them and not get their trip interrupted.
As the sun rose before her, the sound of life soon followed. The General Mahamatra awoke with the first rays intruding past the curtains. She went back to her bed and faked sleep as she oversaw Cyno’s morning routine; stretches, meditation and this strange minute during which he just stood there holding his weapon horizontally and mumbling to himself on ancient dialogue… He pointed the spear to Nahida, who closed her eyes just in time.
Gods don’t lie; he whispered.
Were she unaware of the man’s gentleness of heart, she would’ve felt uneasy or even scared at the moment for getting caught, instead, she felt curious as to when Cyno had mastered the old desert tongue and how had he guessed she wasn’t asleep —for she was sure that her acting was perfect on resting breaths and heartbeats expectation—. Yet, she was not curious enough to intrude.
“My Lord” the General’s voice came from close beside her, “please wake up, we must keep going.”
Strangely enough, his voice sounded a tad different from just a moment ago and Nahida opened only one eye to advert the situation… Huh?
Cyno was already dressed, the dark cloak over him and the briefcase on his back, whilst the golden spear was nowhere to be seen, surely waiting to be summoned. Nahida woke up fully and turned around to look at the window finding that, as she guessed, the sun was way up higher than it should. Had she just experienced a livid dream that she couldn’t right away tell apart from reality? Nothing too unexpected, but quite unusual —she was well acquainted with her dreams, after all—.
“… Lord Kusanali?” right. She could think about this later.
“Cyno, I told you already that we are traveling as friends, so please, refer to me properly for the occasion” she pointed out lively, effectively distracting the man’s concern.
“My- I apologize, Nahida.”