Forging Ahead

*Some spoilers ahead for Far Cry 4, proceed with caution. For reference, this takes place before the events of the game.*

I think this is the first time in days that I've just thought to lie down and take a moment to rest.

After Sabal stormed out during yet another heated discussion, the faint ringing in my ears was my final warning not to push the issue any further. Earlier that day, we received word that some of Pagan Min's men have moved more south which buys us time to figure out as to how we're going to take over the now unguarded radio towers. I have a plan for what to do next, yet I know that Sabal won't hear a word of it. Per usual. At this point, it's useless to expect any other kind of reaction from him. Well, maybe if he covered his ears and sang to drown me out, that would be a little unexpected.

But still. Won't hear a word.

I turn over onto my side and wince at the ache that goes throughout my entire body. I may be young, but being part of the Golden Path has made me age decades within a span of just a few months. I unclench my jaw as my body relaxes and out of boredom, I begin studying the random patterns on the shack wall in front of me. As I mindlessly play with some spare threads on the quilt beneath me, my mind makes me sick with racing and spinning in circles, thoughts whizzing and colliding with each other faster than I can even begin to process them and I close my eyes to make myself focus on relaxing.

So much to do, so little time; if only Sabal and I could agree on one thing concerning the Golden Path, things wouldn't be so torn. I don't see why he has to make things so difficult. I think I'm rather easy to get along with, so why does Sabal insist on talking down to me and treating me like a child? Whether he wants to admit it or not, there's a reason I'm looked to as a leader along with him. What he lacks, I more than make up for. His pride blinds him to the truth: he. Needs. Me.

I wish I could say the same about him.

No, actually, that's not true. I do need him for one thing. Kyrat is by no means modern in terms of their beliefs about women. In the eyes of many of the men here, women are still the 'weaker sex'. Our destiny is only to marry and bear children for husbands that we barely tolerate and live our lives in the shadows, never allowed to speak for ourselves. I guess I could say that this is what drives me to argue and fight until my last breath with Sabal and his traditionalist views: an unquenchable thirst to prove myself capable of leading this rebellion alongside him. Despite my confidence in myself, there's a part of me that feels some sort of reservation. It doesn't help when I listen to the whispers and taunts that plague my mind on a daily basis. It's always the same question: You're just a woman, Amita. What can you really do for Kyrat?

Believe me, being in the Golden Path camp is a painfully constant reminder as to the fact that I'm one of the few women here. I wish I could make myself shut out those thoughts. I'm here because I'm meant to be, I tell myself. Sabal knows that I can do this. He would be a fool to deny what I'm capable of.

Sabal. I scoff. Just thinking about him puts a bad taste in my mouth. Speaking of that man, his vision for Kyrat's future is nothing but pure poison if you ask me. I can just hear it all now: traditions keep a people alive, Amita. Remembering our roots is what will lead us into the future. The key to Kyrat's coming days of glory lies in reconnecting with Kyra and the Gods and going back to the way things were.

Yes, Sabal, turning a blind eye to the fact that this country has absolutely no way to even be able stand on its own two feet will make the problems all disappear. Focusing on the Gods will bring about an answer. That's what all great leaders that brought about change have done throughout history. How ridiculous for me to even think about doing something like creating an economy from existing resources to support our future– resources that apparently you believe are evil. I'm so stupid as to forget about Kyra. Prayers will certainly feed the hungry and worship will put money in the pockets of the poor. Oh, sure, temples will provide means to necessities, medicine, education and whatever else we already lack. Kyra and the Gods will save us all in the end.

What a load of utter fucking bullshit.

Sabal can preach at me until he's blue in the face, but that doesn't change the reality of our situation. If the Golden Path falls, Kyrat will go down with it and I can't let him take us all down with his warped beliefs. Dare I even say that he could be more dangerous than Pagan Min? My God. I have no choice. It may not happen now or tomorrow but sometime during the course of all this, I'll have to stop him. The poor man. He has no idea who he's dealing with. I may be his ally in name, but one wrong move on his part and I'll quickly become his worst enemy.

In the end, if I have to put a bullet through his brain to make my point, let it be so. Keep your friends close but your enemies closer: isn't that how the saying goes?

Bhadra is outside the door - Sabal is back from wherever the hell he was and has something new to tell us. I sit up and try to swallow back the stuffy, dry feeling in my mouth. Keep it together, Amita. I have to remember that throughout whatever's going on, it's imperative that I keep an eye on him. I can't let Sabal run around and continue with his religious zealot bullshit. If he doesn't change his tune, one day it will all come to a head.

And I can promise you that I will be the one to come out of it alive.

I stand, take a deep breath, put on a smile and open the door. As Bhadra and I walk to where Sabal is standing and talking, my mind keeps repeating the mantra that gives me hope for the future:

I am the leader the Golden Path needs, not Sabal. I'm doing the right thing for Kyrat's future, not Sabal.

I am the true leader.

I am.

I am.