1219-03-03
A:
COUGH
Loret's condition has not gotten any better. He looks awful. I am not sure why I feel this way, but our land has been taken by Zara.
We are stuck in one place while Ghar wages war against itself. Nala has become a visionary, a reason for war, as the other tribes try to overthrow her reign.
I have given up. We have given up. I watch as my father loses most of himself. He lies in bed every day now. He cannot eat. He cannot sleep. He is in constant pain.
Blight.
A disease I never knew existed. It is all her fault.
And yet I watch Loret. He groans, moans, and coughs in pain. He barely speaks.
I would do anything to help him. I would do anything to make him feel better. I have never felt this way.
New Miso is almost completely destroyed. Our efforts are in vain. I am not even sure which tribe attacked which. I hate it. I hate this feeling. I hate this place. I wish I had gone instead. I know Ada would not have been strong enough.
I am still young.
I only recently received my official Taji. A purple Taji with no dots. My father told me that we all receive Tajis at two thousand fifty nights. Our clans have been at war and mine looks nothing like my father's.
His is almost completely covered.
The same with Kell's. I wanted to fight to prove myself and yet it is of no use. I am nowhere near as strong as I need to be.
I sit in my purple Taji. I lean against the wall. My father continues to cough.
His coughs almost become rhythmic in nature. I can almost predict them.
As I sit, I meditate. This energy, this grey energy, powers I cannot even see, and yet I know they are there. They are part of me. They are me.
The grey energy allows me to control the wind. Subtle, almost unnoticeable. The wind is cold. Unnatural. Cold like that of dragons.
COUGH
I wonder why the Blight does not affect me. I have been here almost every day since these warts first appeared. And yet nothing.
I am not delusional enough to believe I am special.
"A," my father mumbles, "are you there?"
"Yes, Loret," I sigh, moving closer to his mat. "What do you need?"
"A… I think my life is coming to an end."
"No. You are not dying, Loret," I say, trying to steady my voice. "I want you to see peace. To be at peace."
"Ghar is not a place for peace." He pauses for a long time. "The six or seven tribes that control these lands will never agree."
"There is only one way we can find peace."
"How?" I ask.
"If the leaders all die, so that new ones can take their place."
His eyes meet mine. "I must die. And you must take my place."
"Even still," I argue, "Zara will never allow that."
"You know what needs to be done."
"No. I refuse. We have had this conversation before. I will not kill Zara."
"There is no hope for Ghar."
"Loret, do not give up hope."
He coughs, then whispers, "A… it is time I give you your name."
Shock flashes across my face. "What is it, Loret? What is my name?" I almost beg.
"It is too late," he mutters, repeating the words as the Blight corrodes his mind.
He faints from exhaustion, the welts spreading across his body, growing worse every day.
"This would not be happening if I didn't…" His voice trails off before he falls unconscious again.
"Loret, if you die, I have no reason to live."
That is not true. I think of my sister, but she will not remember me. It feels useless. I tell myself it is for the best, but I know it is a lie. I sob into my hands.
I cry into my Taji. I know Kell is out there fighting, and I am here, stagnant. No. I need to win. I will win.
If it is the last thing I do, I will unite Ghar. Not under my name. I do not even have one. I will do it under my father's name.
"You will see peace, Loret," I whisper to myself.
The day drags on. All I do is train. Day and night, I pound my fists until they bleed. They say your first official challenge is supposed to be special, but there is nothing special here.
My knuckles split open, blood dripping down, but I do not stop. I train. I strike again and again until I see nothing, until there is no strength left, and then I do it again. Pain. That is all I feel. Pain, and nothing else in this wretched country on this cursed continent.
I walk my dog toward the border, toward the wall dividing our countries. Ahk, my father, and his father before him, called it that.
Beyond it, I see shining palaces, alabaster halls, and children playing in fields of white. It is torture just to watch. They will never know fear. They will never feel our pain.
But I want them to. I want the world to feel the pain I feel. I want the world to know my name, even if I do not know it yet.
WHOOSH.
The wind stirs, so faint it is almost invisible.
I sit with the rest of my tribe, barely twenty of us who made it this far. We are few, but we know each other's names and titles. And still, they all look to me for guidance. For strength.
The moon hangs high, a pale circle illuminating our camp. The sight unsettles me. I cannot imagine standing as the figurehead of hundreds of millions.
Then it comes, the sound of marching. The hiss of steel.
Outside our camp, hundreds of soldiers in silver armor. At their head, Kell kneels before their leader.
Zara.
"With the fall of New Miso," she says, voice sharp as a blade, "all your allies are gone."
She raises her chin, eyes locking on me. "With the death of Kell, who will you cling to?"
She steps forward. "As acting leader of your tribe, I challenge you to an Ijat."
My lips part. "Z…"
"I am not Z," she cuts in, voice like thunder. "I am Nala Zara, Queen of Ghar. And you will all fall to me."
One of her soldiers shoves Kell aside, his chains breaking loose. He staggers up, eyes wide, wearing an expression I have never seen on him before, fear.
"What do you want from us, Z?" Kell shouts.
She smirks. "I want to be your first official challenge. Your first Ijat."
I snarl. "And what does that prove? If I beat you, nothing changes. If I lose, nothing changes."
Zara laughs. "No. If you lose, you join me."
I narrow my eyes. "And why would I ever do that?"
Her smile widens. "I want you to embrace the chaos. Become my king. Together, we can stop Marano's interference."
"Blaming everything on foreign nations is…"
"You know nothing!" she screams.
"If Marano never sent their general, Addo would still be alive. If Tobe never unleashed their king, Sojin would never have slaughtered millions. If the queen of Sha'tar never came here, your father would never have been infected with blight. New Bomba would never have been destroyed.
If they stayed in their own lands, our people would still be whole. Their interference has cost millions of lives, but I have saved hundreds of millions from slavery and servitude."
"You're still a child. Blaming other kings and rulers for our problems solve nothing," I say.
"I'm older than you." She retorted, "I want you to feel the pain I felt, the loss I felt when my father died."
"Your father never loved you," I laughed. "You spent all your time with us. You never interacted with him. All these lives gone because of a man who never loved you."
"Yes."
"You cannot challenge him to an ijat," Kell interrupted. "He is not old enough."
"Kell, I…"
She laughed, a cold, cruel sound. "You know that is not true."
"Kell," I said, "I was born more than 2,050 nights ago."
"2,074 to be exact," Zara smiled.
"Even still," she continued, "She's too young."
"Haha," She said, "I was born 2,765 nights ago."
Her eyes narrowed, and she asked, "So what will it be? Will you accept my Ijat?"
"What are you staking?" I asked, my thoughts racing.
"I will stake my life, and the disbandment of my tribe," she yells.
"You have that much confidence?" I smiled.
"Then fine," she replied, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Only one thing is equal to that."
She leaned closer. Her voice lowered to a whisper. "I do not want to kill you. I want your first dot. Your first official loss… to be to me."
I raised an eyebrow. "And what is your Ijat request?"
"If you win, you must accept one request of mine. That request can be anything at any time."
"That does not seem fair," I said, and Kell nodded in agreement beside me.
"Well, I do not plan on losing," I smiled.
Zara was given a bow and a quiver of arrows. The bow seemed made of silvered ancient wood, shimmering faintly in the light. Amara handed me a steel sword. Its edge glinted sharply.
The tension in the air is thick. This is no ordinary duel. This is an Ijat that will be remembered.
The moon hung high. It casts pale light over the clearing. I gripped the steel sword tightly. My hands slick with sweat.
Zara stood poised. Her bow slung over her shoulder. Her eyes glinted with a deadly confidence that made my stomach twist.
The first movement was almost imperceptible. She lunged before I could react. I swung my sword, but she dodged with a grace that seemed impossible. She moved faster than my eyes could follow. Every strike I attempted was met with precise counters. Her footwork was near perfect. Her timing is flawless.
I barely managed to parry her first series of strikes. Each hit rattled my arms. Each hit sent tremors through my body. I felt the familiar sting of failure creeping in. My lungs burned. My muscles screamed. I could not stop. Every instinct screamed to attack. To fight. To survive.
Zara's smile was cold. She seemed almost amused. She closed the distance effortlessly. Her hand flashing out to grab my sword. The metal was torn from my grip as if it weighed nothing in her hands. I stumbled backward. My heart is hammering.
"I didn't even need to use my bow," she said, her voice like ice. "you are not ready."
I lunged again. Desperation fueling my movements. She anticipated every strike. With a swift motion, she had me against the ground. Her strength pinning me down. My sword was gone. My options are limited.
She leaned close.
"This is the difference between us," she whispered.
I gasped, straining against her grip, but it was useless. She was faster, stronger, smarter.
She held my sword to my throat.
"I had obsessed over this day over and over, yet now I felt nothing." She laughed, a hollow laugh.
"How… how are …" I mumbled, my voice barely audible.
"The death of my father," she continued, "was my motivation, my discipline for this fight. For everything! For becoming the ruler I am today!"
"Kill me then. Exact your revenge," I said, lying on the ground.
"No," she replied, her eyes cold. "I won't. I know this shame, this loss, will be more than you can bear."
I jolted to my feet fueled by desperation and rage. Zara moved like water, effortless and precise. She sidestepped my attack.
She grabbed my blade, twisted it, and slashed across my chest.
Pain exploded through me as the steel carved a deep wound, burning through muscle and skin. I staggered back, the sting of blood and defeat searing my mind.
"Die, nameless king," she said, her voice sharp. "This scar will be a constant reminder of your loss to me."
She turned and walked away. Her army moved with purpose and excitement behind her.
My vision went black.