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Uncertainty kisses my flesh for the thousandth time. It is a dear friend, under my skin, on my tongue. War threatens my nation and my people are afraid. I am a warrior – I have been raised a warrior and my shoulders grow heavy from burdens not yet mine. Choices are being made this day and they too, are not yet mine. Did I ever have the right to make them? – the thought creeps into my mind like serpentine filth and I am unable to run from it.
Did I ever have the right to make them?
“Who are you?”, a deep seated, commanding voice echoes from the hollows. The abyss calls, it threatens. “State your purpose!”, the voice probes as the tip of a broad sword is shoved under my chin. Soft grass cushions my face and light filters in through my eyelids – what a beauty, I think, as they flutter open.
The sword is pushed deeper, drawing blood from my neck. It trickles into my armour, sending a chill unceremoniously down my spine. My eyes wander before landing on a pair of raging fiery hues. Angry, determined and oddly enough; innocent. Locks of burning red hair frame the face that looks down upon me, blowing in the breeze like a thousand flags of disaster. What a beauty.
“I am The Captain”, I say with the intention of saying nothing at all. Standing in front of me is a girl. A stranger I’ve never met before and not of my nation. She wears familiar clothing and flaunts jewellery I have never seen. Is she a deity? A priest? The flowing white cloak suggests otherwise, I observe, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth despite the ice-cold caress of the sword. She doesn’t react neither does she move.
“And your purpose?”
“I am a Khaenri’ahn soldier”, I say, slowly sitting up, noticing the way the girl steps back with every advance of mine, her weapon still held cautiously yet precariously in front of her. I touch its tip, smiling again and pushing it away from me with a finger. “I am here to take rest. I like this place.”
The girl raises an eyebrow at me. I can feel the pressure of her sword build up beneath my finger and see her bite her cheek as she tries to figure a way to subdue me again. It’s natural, I think. It’s very natural. She appears to be a Natlan native, I realise, as my eyes capture details on her attire I had missed before. Two little golden pins fasten the cloak to her shoulders. Her tunic is blinding white too – reaching up to her knees and fastened around her waist quite untidily, quite ruggedly. What a beauty-
“What’re you ogling at? Creep!”, she hisses, her honeyed cheeks coloured pink from unbecoming rage. She tries to put her sword atop my fingers but I am quicker, if not stealthier. But oh, how wrong I am! She outwits me and outruns me in the very moment. The girl’s sword skips my hand entirely and now, rests on my shoulders, dangerously close to a chink in my armour. I give up and slowly lean back, arms on either side of me, resting on the dew-wetted blades of grass. I look up, ignoring the burn in my eyes as the sun shines down on me, mocking me of my defeat. My unwanted nemesis smirks, blowing hair
embers
from her face and eyeing me with mirth. Is it glee? I smile crookedly, a little annoyed and heavily amazed. The breeze blows carefully around us, as if it too is waiting with baited breath for her next move. I have forgotten how to breathe entirely. The river below us rushes past happily and the birds chirp with vigour, their melodies laden with heavy gossip. This afternoon, even nature laughs at me. I am but a tired soldier seeking rest – of what have I been defeated? And of what consequence am I to this girl?
“What do you need?”, I enquire politely, eyebrows furrowing in instinct. It is true; I am annoyed. I had spent hours every day searching for such a good resting spot as this and I’ve finally been successful. I deserve the sleep I was in. The girl cocks her head, letting out a scoff as if to make my stupidity obvious.
“What do I need?”, she says, sounding so surprised, I have no choice but to second guess myself. I did ask the right question and again, I do deserve a right answer. Is she perhaps mocking me? The answer comes in another mirthful remark of hers. “This is my turf. I live nearby and I guard this place. I have never seen you before”, she pauses, giving me a fleeting glance before continuing, “soldier. You are a stranger – on my turf.” Her lips curl up in indignation and something endearing catches my lazy gaze. Her hair is unkempt and flowy, in all directions and all over her shoulders. It’s as if it has a personality of its own; glowing and burning and soothing alongside her emotions.
What a beauty, I think again and sigh.
“Oh? You’re sighing at me?”, she says.
I shake my head, with measure and extreme care as the edge of her blade threatens to behead me. “The day is beautiful, even more so than what I usually see. Wouldn’t you say so?” The silence is deafening but nonetheless something utterly new. I feel no need to say anything else, in fact there remains nothing I can say or do in face of this utterly peculiar encounter. My heart beats in rhythm with the flutter of the girl’s hair and my eyes follow hers in a merry dance of their known. She looks at the river behind me – I look at her. She eyes my hands; I cock my head to follow her gaze.
She looks at the icy sword by my side. At me. I look at her.
“Mavuika”, she says, and with an elegant swish, takes her broad sword away.
“Mavuika”, I repeat. She nods as an interesting expression clouds her face. A smile tugs at the corner of her lips, I can see it. I can feel it reflected on my face. I can see her noticing it too. Our eyes dance around each other again and she finally breaks into a beam.
“Mavuika”, I say again, smiling fully as she does too. The sun doesn’t seem as bright anymore and her hair appears dull. The girl’s grin the most radiant of all. She says something else and it’s lost in the beat of my heart – it beats painfully, like it’s never going to be the same again. I feel something changing; the air. The water. The grass. They all grow warm and then recoil in dismay as she turns away.
“I am on guard duty in the stadium. Don’t cross unsanctioned territory again”, Mavuika commands and with a nod, leaves.
I feel the soreness in my arms grow, the sting under my chin where the girl has cut me and the hollow ache in my heart as she paces away and grows smaller and my heart balloons up. It swells up and a part of it flies away to rest, I realise, in the embers of her hair.