Chapter Text
On a one year trip to decipher ancient inscriptions and relating them to ruin machines in Natlan, Faruzan was assigned an expedition team for her research in the foreign land. Little was known about the Pyro Archon’s nation even in The Akademia’s archives. The young scholar had jumped at the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity with plentiful funding. She had already been renowned in the academic circle for her contributions to her field of study; however, she would now get to shut those old men criticizing her, saying she was ‘‘too weak’’ to explore ruins on her own and suggested their students help her out. It was an obvious trap, the disciples weren’t exactly known for their honesty in research but instead their hunger for fame. How pitiful they were with their jealousy, she would show them just how capable she was.
The sun was certainly getting to Faruzan. Her coworkers complained about the weather behind her. The team had made some progress in Children of Echoes’ and Scions of the Canopy’s ruins. There were differences in dialects of the tribes, though the woman had managed to get a rough grasp of the ancient Natlanese language. Strangely enough, she had yet to encounter a Khaenri'ahn ruin machine, instead seeing mechanics special to the land of Pyro. Observations showed they were much less fit for combat compared to Khaenri'ahn ones. Rumors said they were built by a long-lost non-human civilization for work functions. Faruzan could barely contain her excitement at the thought of uncovering their secrets, if only her juniors were more interested in their academics rather than Natlanese beauties. She supposed she could let them have their fun before the work load would become heavier.
According to the map, they would arrive in Masters of the Night Wind by evening. The name ‘‘Great Shaman Citlali’’ had reached her ears far too many times in the short month she had spent in Natlan whenever trying to gather information. Although suggestions to seek her out were always accompanied by her infamous reputation for being closed off. The woman was described as uncollaborative and mean. The Sumerian had encountered far too many people like her in her homeland, She would find a way to benefit from the shaman’s knowledge.
‘’Man, Natlanese women are so different from the ones back home! I never realized just how fun attraction could be, much better than a woman who prefers to talk about mathematics rather than a compliment… They even dance! Sumerian women only smile when they win a debate.’’ A young man whispered to his friends, hoping Faruzan couldn’t hear him.
‘’A serious woman is the key to a stable home life later on. Don’t get too caught up in young whims, boy. A fancy fling will not last.’’ Scolded an older one.
‘’Sometimes you just gotta live in the moment, gramps! Maybe that’s why you are grumpy all the time, because you don’t have someone who makes you laugh. What is a smile if not followed by a laugh? Maybe I should call you grumps instead, haha!’’
Faruzan took a deep breath. At least they knew how to focus on work when she supervised. Still, she knew it was only natural that her juniors would try to take their minds off work at times, especially from missing their homes and loved ones. The woman herself could use a break if not for the constant flood of ideas even when she sat down.
As the sun began to set, the Sumerians reached the tribe. Purple and blue was prominent in the most charming way, contributing to the aesthetic of mysticism. The messengers they had encountered in the Scions of the Canopy had described this tribe’s people as eccentric and reclusive. However, they also had the deepest connections to Night Kingdom and indirectly most capable of helping them with their research. Taking a quick look around herself, Faruzan told her coworkers, save for her assistant, to speak to the tribespeople while she made her way to the great shaman’s house.
Her assistant, Behzad, was a quiet young man a few years older than her, capable on paper but clumsy in person. It was negligible to not keep half her attention on him while she was around. Well, except for now. While Faruzan was observing the graffiti on the wall, Behzad was taking notes of the nearby surroundings behind her. A shriek came from behind her. An Iktomisaur had landed next to the guy and had seemingly found him hostile. The flap of the saurian’s wing was enough to knock the slim man down in horror, screaming for his team leader to help him. As Faruzan tried to shoo the animal away, the door behind them opened aggressively.
‘’What is going on?’’
The two turned to the woman with the high pitched voice. The woman appeared to be… drunk? She let go of the door handle and walked to the two, her guard as up as an intoxicated person could manage. Maybe she just didn’t deem them worthy enough to be wary of.
‘’Claw, what is this? Let him go.’’ Once the saurian calmed down, Citlali turned to the other two, ‘’You are lucky Claw didn’t make you hallucinate instead, young man. What is it that you want?’’ Citlali looked the two up and down, ‘’Are you lost?’’
There stood a short woman, maybe slightly taller than Faruzan herself, with an eccentric style. Her style was different from even other Natlanese women, yet flattering in all the right ways. The paint on her face and body piqued the scholar’s curiosity. Perhaps she was the prettiest woman Faruzan had ever seen.
‘’Miss- Madam Itztli,’’ Faruzan had not expected such a young looking woman as an old shaman, ‘’My name is Faruzan. This is Behzad, my assistant. We are traveling scholars from Sumeru’s Akademiya, from Haravatat, specializing in semiotics. I am the team leader of the scholars sent to Natlan for a year to decode ancient texts in order to understand ruin machines. We have been-’’
‘’Okay, enough, young lady. I am not in the mood to listen to your introduction. What do you want from me?’’
‘’We have heard much about your capabilities, Madam Itztli. Many people we talked to said there wasn’t anyone else other than the Pyro Archon who could aid us better in our research. We humbly ask for your assistance.’’ Seeing the great shaman wasn’t getting interested in her assistant's speech, Faruzan decided to improvise.
‘’Behzad, why don’t you go meet with others? Make sure they set up our tents near the tribe.’’ With a wave of her hand, the man quickly made his way back, afraid to irritate either woman.
Faruzan gave a smile to the Natlanese woman, hoping the faintest blush on her cheeks wasn’t noticeable. Madam Itztli didn’t seem all that drunk; she was tipsy at best. The scholar wasn’t about to let her chance slip away.
‘’Why should I do that? What makes you different from the other researchers who just see Natlan as a jackpot to make money? Sweet talk doesn’t work on me, young lady. Save your breath.’’
The shaman squinted her eyes slightly, as if assessing Faruzan's legitimacy. Seemingly coming to a positive conclusion, which the younger woman had no doubt about the other’s gut and judgement already, she spoke before her.
‘’Come in tomorrow afternoon. Just you. I’ll hear you out about your research.’’