Huge, magnificent, ancestral, luxurious, and imperial—these were the words often used by the citizens of Mura to describe the abode inhabited by the king. At the extreme north of Gazaiah, the capital state of Mura, stood Great King Bakar's imperial palace. It was the oldest edifice in the entire kingdom, having housed eighteen generations of kings.
The mastodon covered a hundred hectares of land, within which stood the keep, the dungeon, wells, sleeping accommodations, ancestral shrines, the Royal Hall, and more. Erected around the palace grounds were eighteen giant, eye-dazzling sculptures, crafted from bronze, silver, and gold, in honor of the eighteen rulers Mura had seen in its existence. Carved into the gray antique stone walls surrounding the palace were scribbles recounting anecdotes of the kingdom—opened to the public once every six months during the Royal Exposition.
The tenants of the Mura Imperial Palace included the king, the queen, concubines and their offspring, ministers, clerks, servants, the military garrison, and merchants who supplied their needs. They were accommodated there and lived for generations.
Aflutter and agitation reigned king throughout the castle. People busily paced up and down the royal grounds, with expressions of doubt, worry, anger, and apprehension etched on their faces. The decree announced by the king two days prior had created the foulest atmosphere ever experienced in the castle.
In contrast to the tense atmosphere surrounding the castle and its tenants was the relaxed and joyous mood of the ten-year-old Sol. She hummed a folkloric tune while happily dancing around with a wooden sword she swung through the air. Her cute and innocent demeanor drew the gaze of the modest crowd present in the royal garden.
"What a fine young lady. She will flourish to become the most beautiful and charming flower of our kingdom," a sickly thin elderly man said with a smile on his face. A fawning look crept over his sickly visage as he glanced at the figure next to him.
A seven-foot-tall giant, towering over lesser men, stood unmoving like a mountain, unfazed by the words spoken. Exposed to the scorching sun was his muscly torso, full of dark hair and shoulder-length, snake-like red braids. His brown skin shone like a golden suit of armor and exuded the stench of blood in his vicinity. He resembled a mythic bear from legends. His gaze was sharper than a needle and could pierce through one's soul, while his aura made even ghosts shiver at his sight.
He was the mightiest, wisest, and strongest man in the kingdom. He had ruled for the past twelve years, bringing the imperial army to its highest might. In his presence, few dared blabber—scared of what would arise.
"Beautiful indeed... yet not apt," an indifferent but imposing voice rang out through the garden.
"Wherefore, Sir King?" Minister Azam asked, looking confused.
"To lead an army. What else? Am I in the fog, Minister?" King Bakar glanced at him with a gaze that sent shivers down his knees.
A stressed expression appeared on Azam's face as he bowed and said, "No, Sir King. I don't dare say that." He stood and stayed silent, not uttering another word.
The king was feared by most men in the kingdom. He ruled with an iron hand and believed it the most effective way. In the past, he had resorted to extreme measures to build loyalty among his servants. As such, in foreign kingdoms, he was considered a tyrannical, bloodthirsty vampire. However, the king paid no heed to such words.
"Clap! Clap! Clap!" The sound of clapping rang through the princess's garden as a knave respectfully made his way in.
"Important letter for the mighty king!" he said, hunched over, not daring to steal a glance at the king.
Sol's attendant, who stood by the king and Minister Azam, retrieved the letter from the knave.
"Clap! Clap! Clap!" The knave exited the princess's garden, still hunched.
The gesture performed by the knave was common in Mura. The action had to be performed whenever in the presence of the king—from servants to government officials.
Having received the letter from Sol's attendant, King Bakar unsealed and studied its content, upon which a peculiar look rose on his face.
"Anything wrong, Sir King?" Azam asked, having noticed the change in the king's expression.
"Nothing much. I will ride at dusk to meet Tora. Notify the royal escort," the great Bakar instructed.
"Clap! Clap! Clap!" Minister Azam bowed as he exited the private garden. Great Bakar regained his composure, setting his gaze on his daughter, Sol.
---
"People of Ruandera, stand and rebel against the greedy king who neglects his people! Fight for your freedom! Fight for your health! Fight for your sovereignty!" A protester shouted, his voice as loud and unyielding as possible—fierce, betraying rage and sorrow.
People crowded the already busy plaza to listen, interject, or even shout out words of encouragement. The air was thick with emotions of anger, woe, and a sentiment of injustice that lay deep within the people. Possessed by the atmosphere, the protester dared more. He vomited all the negative thoughts held toward the royals.
"Beheading for freedom! Beheading for freedom!" Such were the thoughts now being shared aloud.
A distance away from the mass stood a pair of individuals—a male and a female. They looked at the scene with contrasting expressions on their faces. One wore a look of sorrow and rage, while the other appeared more intrigued than concerned.
"Are your royals so poor at ruling? What happened to make the people so enraged?" Teleu asked, shooting an intrigued look at Reloua. "Never have I seen such fury against the royal family. The people of Ankh respect and adore their royals."
Teleu and Reloua had exited the forest as soon as the sun woke up, reaching the border of Gold Land. There, Reloua paid the entrance fee for access to the kingdom. Having crossed the border, they arrived at Ruandera, the direct neighbor to Botankeu. After crossing, Teleu insisted they each go their separate way, but was later convinced by the princess to stick with her. Hence, they rented an inn for temporary residence before departing towards Nkap, the capital city of the Gold Kingdom.
After two suns and two moons in the inn, the pair agreed to depart Ruandera in the direction of Nkap. In preparation for their lengthy trip to the capital, situated northwest of the kingdom, they headed to the city market. There, they encountered the scene of a woeful citizen expressing his rage towards the government of Gold Land. Not used to such sights, Teleu expressed his confusion.
"The kingdom's prosperity is on a decline. Commonly known, Gold Land was gifted with resources by the heavens. Resources like gold, crystal, copper, cotton, iron, etc., are abundant in these lands. Previously, the king operated according to our ancestors' will—the Ashantis—and donated part of the resources to the people. Thus, comfort in these lands was immense. No tribe nor commoner ever lacked food or wealth. The goodwill shown by the royals earned the support of the people, establishing a strong bond between the citizens and the royal family," Reloua explained with a kooky expression on her face. Her dark brown iris glanced at Teleu time and again, her expressions differing each time.
"What curse broke that bond?" Teleu asked, his muscled arms crossed.
"It all started six years ago. On a diplomatic trip to the Ace Kingdom, the king fell under the charm of an elegant lady of unknown origin. Against all ministers' advice, he took her in as a concubine and lodged her in the royal palace. No man could predict what would ensue," she sighed and continued. "The lady started as an insignificant concubine, one of many the king had in his possession, but transformed herself into one of the key political players. Her influence is no less than that of the first minister, and the unconditional support she receives from the king makes her words law." Her eyes shut down, unwilling to continue. She stood there, silent.
Intrigued, Teleu voiced his thoughts on the case. "For you to mention that lady, she must be the reason for this negative atmosphere in the kingdom. What about the queen? Even with all his concubines, King Sichom was wed to Lady Aissatou. Gold Land is under a matriarchal regime where the queen's words have more value than the king's. Hasn't she opposed this unknown lady? Hmm... unless…"
"Unless she died," Reloua interrupted, her voice heavy and rusty as an anvil, clearly enraged by the queen's fate. "The queen was of great importance to Gold Land. With her by the king's side, the land functioned wholly. However, she met her end for reasons unknown to man. The crack experienced in the administrative sector arose from her sudden death and the concubine's ridiculous politics. The combination of both destroyed our lands. All ministers who once served the people are now corrupted. All resources are monopolized by the upper class and businessmen. The people are left to starve, and shady businesses like human trafficking thrive around the kingdom. Ministers and divine envoys who stood against these vile acts disappear one after another. How will the citizens not be enraged?" Her fingers twisted against her palm. Her beautiful black Atti hair swayed gently from one side to the other as she slowly shook her head in disappointment. "Let's head to the marketplace," she said. With that, both disappeared from the scene.
---
Miles away from the plaza was a bustling area filled with people. The sweet scent of potato, the spiciness of chili, and the pungent stink of durian filled the air. Merchants proudly stood in front of their merchandise laid out on tables made of the cleanest wood. On the sides stood stunning, hefty huts where the more affluent merchants presented their articles. Spit and drool violently swarmed through the air as they actively bargained with clients of different statuses. Goods on display were mostly common foods, sweet fruits, beautiful and attractive tapestry, and alluring, colorful, eye-blinding textiles.
Sunlight shone across the wide streets, illuminating the already shiny jewelry worn by most people. Despite the troubles they faced with the administration, Gold Land remained the richest kingdom in Nubia. The population was vastly attracted to fashion and jewelry, hence collecting precious accessories made of pure gold once in a while. They wore these priceless articles whenever out in the marketplace or at festivals.
Textiles—especially kente—and jewelry were special to Gold Kingdom citizens. As such, they could easily distinguish individuals of different origins. Reloua knew this well as she hailed from these lands. This was why she brought Teleu to the marketplace. She had plans for him and sought to hide his origins. To achieve that, Teleu had to blend in like a chameleon with the people of Gold Land. What better way than to dress him in kente and plaster some gleaming ornaments on his polished brown skin?
"Sir, that is too much. Two silver coins are all I have," Reloua vehemently argued. She had been bargaining for a quarter-hour, unwilling to accept a loss at the hands of the crafty man standing in front of her.
"Aso, I can't give that to you at such a price. I'll be at a loss if I do," the man said in a squeaky voice as fat jiggled under his garment with every gesture. He was a massive, round man—the most popular merchant in the state of Ruandera. Gemstones of different designs glittered on every finger, matching his sparkling dark cavities. "Add another item, madame, and I'll let you have these at the price of two silver coins," he craftily proposed.
"Let's go to another shop," Teleu said, annoyed. He had stood there for half an hour to no avail. Coming from a different kingdom, he wasn't used to the commercial tendencies of the Gold Lands. In his opinion, the canny Sir Jangi wasn't going to accept a loss, so there was no point in wasting time.
Reloua nodded in agreement, ready to leave, but was stopped in her tracks by Monsieur Jangi, who couldn't bear to lose clients.
"You finally changed your mind, sir?" Reloua looked at the huge Jangi, a victorious smile spreading on her delicate cheeks.
"I'm just protecting you from buying fake articles in other commercial huts, that's all," Jangi haughtily announced as he presented her with two sets of articles. One was kente clothes and the other a pair of ordinary-looking bracelets worn only by people of no affluence.
"Thank you, sir!" She presented two silver coins to him and, with Teleu, departed from the hut.
"You still haven't told me why you want me by your side. I don't even know your background," Teleu voiced his doubts. He had already changed into his kente attire, which suited him to perfection. The kaleidoscope of colors and patterns on his clothes highlighted his refined body.
"Worry not, Teleu. I will bring you no harm. I want you as my personal guard. You will protect me and my brother," she said as she continued strolling, looking left and right along the street. She had been fully impressed by the skills he displayed in the Botankeu Forest and had chosen to have him near her in the future. "You're new to this land. You need shelter and gold. I'm offering both—an opportunity you can't pass up."
Teleu strode alongside her, silent. He was well aware of his situation. He had no choice but to follow her for now. He needed a place where he could hide but live comfortably, and she was exactly what he had hoped for on his run.