The Heroic Legend of Arslan – Encounters
Shagad One-Shot
Forward. Faster. Freedom…
Freedom? Can this really be considered as freedom?
Impertinence. Offence. Treason...
Treason? Was what she did reason enough to charge her with treason?
Contempt. Banishment. Exile…
It was just another peaceful day in the sprouting trade metropolis, the port city Gilan.
The streets were buzzing with laughter.
Merchants were selling their goods, trying to get all the money they can from inexperienced customers dazzled by the foreign goods laid out before them. Most of the goods came from far away, making it impossible even for other merchants to value the different objects, allowing their temporary owners to sell them off for prices even ten times their actual worth.
Children were laughing, running along the streets while playing games on their own or with their parents.
In secluded corners extravagantly dressed, foreign women were waiting for their prey, ensnaring those who fell victim to their beauty, promising them ephemeral dreams for the night.
There was nothing special about this particular day. It was just another peaceful day for the people of Gilan.
Shagad, a man in his early twenties, joined the hustle and bustle on the market. He was a rather prosperous merchant himself, even though, he was only young of age. His brown hair that was tied into a high ponytail was flowing due to the soft breeze, some strands brushing against his cheeks, caressing his fairly tanned skin. With his green eyes he marvelled at the sight around him. No one could ever get used to a city as lively as Gilan.
His eyes travelled along the stalls, admiring the goods the merchants brought along from their voyages. These same voyages were something he preferred to evade as more time passed. He was always searching for a new adventure, – no question! – but with his growing wealth his responsibility increased. And greater responsibility and less freedom go hand in hand.
Yet he wouldn't have it any other way. What he achieved in his life up to this point was far more than he had ever expected to manage.
And managing was what he did. He employed other merchants, mostly seafarers, to buy specific goods in foreign countries for him, so he could sell them again in Gilan. But sometimes he had the urge to experience something as close to his old adventures as it could possibly get.
What other place was there for him to go to?
The flourishing market was what brought him onto the streets of Gilan. The extraordinary goods and the foreign merchants. The market was the best place to experience the difference of culture. Everyday there was something new to learn.
However, new knowledge wasn't what captured his undivided attention that time.
It happened in the middle of the street, fast, unseen to everyone's eyes but his. Even though, he was sure that the other visitors of the market clearly saw what happened, but they didn't care at all. It was nothing unusual. It was normal.
A girl surrounded by a few poorly dressed men who obviously had lewd intentions with the way they were forcefully hitting on the frightened girl. Shagad tried to catch a glimpse of the girl's face but her back was turned to him. All he could see was straight, dark-brown hair that sprawled all over her back until it reached her waist.
Suddenly and rather roughly the dark-brown mop of hair was grabbed by a hand and the girl was being dragged away into a narrow alley away from the market.
It was nothing unusual. It was normal. And normally he didn't care. And he didn't know what caused him to actually care that day. But because he did care, he followed the group.
The alley made a few twists and turns until it ended in a cramped courtyard. He expected to be greeted with a rather immoral sight, anticipating a helpless girl in the fangs of ruthless dogs. However, when Shagad entered the courtyard, he saw something he would have never imagined in his wildest dreams.
Standing in the middle of a circle of unconscious persons stood the girl he was intending to rescue from the group of men who abducted her. After closer observation he was able to make out the faces of same homeless men.
He averted his eyes in order to look at the girl who was standing in the middle of it all. Only now did he realize that she wasn't a girl but rather a young woman, most likely about his own age.
Dark-brown hair cascaded down her shoulders, the colour slightly fading in the length with its tips reaching her waist. Her eyes were hidden behind a curtain of bangs, making it impossible for him to look at her face.
In her hand she held a short dagger, its blade scintillating due to the lack of blood he assumed would cover it. This caused him to look at the men again, only to discover that despite being unconscious they indeed weren't hurt or wounded.
Only when he felt the piercing stare directed at him, he turned to her again. Her eyes, shimmering a bright turquoise, reminded him of sapphires, jewels that didn't seem befitting for a woman like her, for her clothing told him that she was of lower status. The dark pants she wore were far too wide to fit her slim figure, being held up by another cloth used as a belt. A rather large white cloth was used as clothing for her upper body. It most likely wasn't even meant to be worn as any kind of clothing but she managed to decoratively arrange the material so it would serve as a top as good as possible.
Not reacting to her stare, his eyes travelled upwards again until they reached the face of the young woman in front of him, who lifted one of her eyebrows at him, urging him to speak up.
"I am no bandit," he started, unsure what to say at all, "I don't mean any harm."
His green eyes glistened with insecurity, his eyebrows accentuating the frown that formed on his face.
"Who are you to claim that you don't epitomise lascivious behaviour?"
Carefully taking a step forward, his hands raised in reassurance, he slowly approached the woman, "I assure you, I mean no harm."
Why did he have the urge to approach her? – He still doesn't know. Her actions and behaviour were contradicting each other, causing him to be fascinated by the mysterious young woman.
His words caused her to tilt her head in a confused – he would almost say adorable – way, "You understood what I said?"
A light chuckle escaped his throat, amused by her confusion, "I am a merchant of Gilan, this city. My choice of words is to be considered superior compared to that of an ordinary citizen."
His narcissistic words earned him an evident sneer from her, her voice dripping with whole-hearted derision, "Do you intend to imply that one of lower status should raise their instruments of war against you?" She provoked, raising her dagger in her right hand to emphasize her question.
The movement of her arm revealed a rather nasty looking gash along the bottom of her ribcage. It was still dripping with fresh blood, soaking the previously white cloth with the dark liquid, causing it to be tainted in the kingly colour. If nothing else did, this simple horrid fact suggested the impression that it was a lady of royal blood who dared to oppose him.
"You are hurt," he bluntly said after taking a look at the open wound, his thoughts from before already forgotten.
"There is no need for you to state the obvious," she replied harshly with her dagger still raised.
He didn't know where her repellent behaviour came from, but he assumed that he saw something he wasn't supposed to see. It seemed that she would have preferred to stay in hiding without anyone following her around, possibly catching a glimpse of the person she really was.
However, he wasn't deterred by here hostile behaviour and continued in his advances, nevertheless, moving closer towards her until the point of her dagger was directly aiming at his heart. One more step forward and she would be able to pierce it. But he was confident that no harm would come to him. His facial features showed absolute determination. Whatever he had planned, he was sure he would succeed.
"You said that I am a man who those of lower status should raise their weapons against," he said in a soothing voice, trying to ease her hostility, "Yet you, a lady of high status, are aiming your dagger at me."
"Who tells you that I am of higher status?" She asked, the confusion returning to her face, her arm still pointing the dagger at his heart, her other hand forming a fist.
"Your clothes may seem poor but your choice of words can't be mistaken for that of a woman of lower class."
"One can easily be deceived by words."
"While this might be true, one can't be deceived by a false posture."
"What do you mean?"
"The way you are holding your dagger. You know royal swordplay."
She was obviously quite taken aback by the fact that he recognized her stance as royal swordplay. Not many knew the difference for most weren't taught how to fight in the beginning. But on the other hand, it assured her that his intentions towards her wouldn't be of the same sort as those of the group of men before him.
"And what if I do?" She gritted her teeth in irritation, not budging away one bit.
"If you do you won't be save out here," he answered truthfully. He knew that a woman like her would be able to ensure a good price for every slave trader. Her extravagant eyes combined with her knowledge of royal swordplay could be sold for a fortune.
Considering the advantages and disadvantages, he finally phrased the idea that had been forming in his head, "Why don't you come with me? You could stay at my mansion for the time being."
"You want me to come with you?" She questioned his invitation to stay at his mansion, taking a step backwards.
"I'm offering you a place to stay for the time being. You are wounded and have no place to go to. Try to think of it as a peace offering?" He suggested in return.
"Even though I have been pointing my dagger at you?"
He chuckled and turned around, already making his way towards the mansion. When he realized that she wasn't following after him he turned his head around, speaking over his left shoulder, "Even though you have been pointing your dagger at me."
This confirmation was enough for her to chase after him.
"Are you sure that I am allowed to stay here?"
"Of course," he replied while leading her through the courtyard and up the staircase to his house.
He came to a halt in front of the large doors, turning around to look into her eyes, his hand being held out for her to take, "Are you coming?"
With some hesitation evident in the movement, she carefully placed her hand in his, following his lead into the mansion.
"No! Take your hands off me!"
"I was told to help you!"
Shagad was on his way to check up on his guest when screaming caught his attention. As soon as he heard the protesting cries of the young woman he had brought to his mansion some hours prior, he immediately made a dash for the bathroom, where the uproar could be heard from.
When he reached the door and tried to open it to see what was going on, it was slammed open and he was greeted with a half-dressed young woman with dark-brown hair stumbling into his arms.
Out of instinct his hands flew to her sides, catching the breathless woman to steady her still falling figure. His good intentions, however, earned him a cry of pain and sharp nails that dug into his upper arms. He shifted the position of his hands, remembering that she had been wounded.
"Mister Shagad!" After the young woman in his arms one of his servants came into sight, standing in the doorframe to the bathroom. Her hair and clothes were quite dishevelled and after seeing her master standing in front of her she tried to rearrange her clothing and fix her appearance before she curtsied and started to explain the situation at hand.
"I was trying to treat the wound, as you have ordered me to, but she keeps revolting against my help. Please tell her that someone has to treat the gush or it will get infected!"
Looking down at the young woman in his arms, he tried to get a glance at her face but she turned her head away from him to avoid his attempt. Nevertheless, she stayed put in his arms, probably because of the lack of clothing covering her.
"Theresa, I'm sorry for the inconvenience. I'm going to take care of this myself," he replied, placing one of his arms around the shoulders of the woman and guiding her towards the bathroom, forcing his servant to step aside to allow them to pass.
"But Mister Shagad!" Theresa protested, her cheeks coloured in a healthy shade of red due to her imagination running wild, picturing her master helping a woman he only met to treat a wound in a place she would have to bare her upper body for.
"Don't worry, as indecent as your thoughts might be, I won't take advantage of a wounded woman. Now go and allow me to take care of my guest," he finished, closing the door in the face of his servant.
"That was rude of you," the turquoise-eyed woman replied, struggling out of his grip and wrapping her arms around her body, barely being able to cover her chest.
It was then that he realized how scarcely dressed she actually was. She still wore the pants, however, her upper body had been uncovered from everything that she had worn before, only a small cloth was wrapped around her shoulders. Her cheeks adored a slight hue of red. Even though, she managed to keep her countenance, if you took a closer look embarrassment was apparent on her face.
Closing his eyes to make her feel more comfortable, he responded with the same irritation, "It was rude of you to oppose my servant's help."
"I don't need anyone's help! I can take care of this myself," she replied, rather pricked due to the situation at hand.
"Well, why didn't you push me away as well?"
"YOU are stubborn. You would have followed me anyway, wouldn't you?"
"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows tauntingly, keeping his eyes closed nevertheless, "I am stubborn?"
She huffed in reply, puffing her cheeks, "Do you intend to imply something preposterous?"
"I would never dare to do so."
After confirming that his eyes were indeed closed she turned around, her back now facing him.
"You can open your eyes again," the dark-brown-haired woman announced and pulled the cloth from her shoulders, relieving her upper body from the last piece of clothing covering it, her hair now being the only curtain to cover her body from his eyes.
He did as told and stepped closer, not caring that the woman in front of him was half-way naked but only caring to tend to the wound as soon as possible. It's not that she wasn't appealing to him, he would lie claiming otherwise, but he didn't see her as one of the foreign women from the streets. She wasn't seeking to seduce him for money and he didn't intend to force something onto her she wouldn't agree to.
His hands slowly travelled to her side, carefully lining the edges of the gash.
"Why do you care to help me, even though, I could have killed you today?"
The question caught him off-guard. Why did he care?
"Well, admittedly, I don't know. Maybe I was only seeking to gain your affection to satisfy my own needs," he whispered into her ear, caressing her other side with his hand.
"If that was the case you wouldn't have willingly closed your eyes without me telling you to."
"You might be right... Let's treat your wound now."
Lifting her arm in surrender, she allowed him to do what needed to be done.
Night fell upon Gilan, the water of the ocean reflected the last rays of the sinking sun, colouring the scenery in all kinds of warm hues for the last time that day. Like little lights in the night sky, one after the other the stars started to awake, illuminating the firmament with countless dots.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
The young woman, who was standing on a balcony that she had access to from the room she was given, turned around only to be met with the sight of her host. Her arms were slung around her body, hugging her form due to the soft breeze.
A small smile graced her lips and she waved him over, asking him to join her on the balcony.
Doing as requested he moved forward, slowly approaching her.
"You have never told me your name," he stated and shot her a questioning look.
"Do not dare to ask for a woman's name without being humble enough to introduce yourself first."
This caused a chuckle to rumble in his chest, his interest in her being piqued even further, "My name is Shagad."
She smiled at him in return. "Leiya."
Shagad stopped next to her, his gaze drifting along the horizon. From there you could see the ships inside the harbour, the ocean, and even a huge part of the market that was still buzzing with merchants and people alike. Although, most of them were occupied by the music that was played by a group of buskers, dancing, laughing, enjoying the night – not caring that after today tomorrow was about to come.
The young woman started humming along to the melody, causing an idea to arise in Shagad's mind.
"So, Leiya. What would you say if I asked you to prove if you are as good at dancing as you are at pointing your dagger at strangers?" The green-eyed man suggested, one of his arms sneaking around her waist, careful not to strain the wound on her ribcage that he had tended to some time ago that day, pulling her closer to him, his other hand taking her hand into his.
Even though, she was slightly taken aback by his bold behaviour, she allowed him to circle her in his arms, slowly twirling her around, spinning with her along to the rhythm of the music. He had seen and touched her in a situation even more intimate. She didn't think that any harm could be done if she allowed him to lead her into dancing. Well, if you could call it dancing at all. Due to the wound she had received, their dancing was limited to slow movements, but it was enough for them to enjoy themselves.
"You are a rather interesting woman, Leiya," Shagad mused, his eyes firmly locked with hers.
With her eyes never leaving his, she replied, "Thank you for the compliment, rather interesting man."
The words caused his eyes to sparkle even brighter than before. As far as she could tell, his interest in her wasn't because of her looks but because of the way she behaved. His interest in her was genuine. He was honest.
They stayed like this, dancing to the music, until late in the night, only the moon and stars being witnesses to the events of that night.
"Leiya! Could you handle this as well?"
Shagad entered his office that was occupied by his guest for the time being. During her stay in Gilan she almost immediately adjusted to the business of a merchant, becoming a great help to her host. For he was usually too lazy to do so, she took care of his paperwork while he took care of the other things including negotiations with other merchants and handling his stalls at the market.
When he reached the desk she was sitting at, he laid down the scrolls he had in his arms. The woman only shot the scrolls a short glance before starting to scribble away on the one she was currently dealing with.
"Just leave it here," she replied before granting him with a small smile.
Smiling in return, he nodded in contentment before stepping around the desk to thank her by planting a chaste kiss on her cheek before he hurried out of the door.
"You can be such a kid sometimes, Shagad," she mumbled to herself while allowing a light chuckle to escape her lips.
Passed hours turned into passed days. Passed days turned into passed weeks. And weeks passed until almost a month did.
Shagad and Leiya were resting from a rather hard day of work. Now they were both casually lying on a couch in one of the many unoccupied rooms in the mansion.
"Tell me, Leiya. When we first met, how did you manage to render the homeless men unconscious?"
Shifting from her position cuddled against him, she lifted her head to look at his face. His eyes were still closed and his arms around her pulled her slightly closer against his body.
"My father opposed against me learning how to wield a weapon. But no matter the circumstances, I was set on learning. My fiancée was a rather strong soldier. I started pestering him until he finally gave in and trained me. He was a part of the royal army. That's why you mistook my fighting for royal swordplay."
An uncomfortable silence fell upon them, until Shagad risked to break it.
"What was he like?"
After asking said question he immediately regretted ever speaking those words. Her hands that were grabbing the front side of his robes even firmer now proved his thoughts. But as soon as he wanted to take back his words, she answered.
"He is the most loyal man who I have ever met. Even though, he could be rather uptight and serious and tends to proceed in a straightforward and logical manner,… he is the one I loved."
Shifting himself in an upward position, he carefully pulled her with him, sitting the young woman in his lap with her head comfortably lying on his chest, his hand brushing through her long hair.
"Please excuse me, if I am too forward, but you are talking in such a way I can't decipher whether you are talking about the past or the present."
With her head securely cuddled against him, she closed her eyes, enjoying the soothing gesture she was granted with. "I must admit that I am talking about the past while I would actually prefer to talk about the present."
The ministrations stopped and she could tell that it was due to the confusing statement she provided him with.
"He is still alive. And, even though, I still consider him to be my fiancée, our relationship is doomed. I didn't come to Gilan on a whim. It was my safe haven after I was exiled from my home. For him to marry a banished woman would only result in sending him into exile along with me. He has a younger brother to take care of. I couldn't live with myself, knowing that I have torn his family apart."
"That's rather honourable of you," he replied, his eyes widening in surprise, while he continued to grant her with affection.
"Say… Why don't you stay here, in Gilan? Together with me?" He was stuttering, hesitation obvious in his voice.
A soft hum was what he received in reply. It hadn't been a concrete answer but he knew that she was trying to find the right words, not knowing how to answer his forward question.
She opened her eyes and reached for the hand that was brushing through her hair with one of her own, bringing it to a stop. Her eyes, however, were averted from him, avoiding his stare.
"I am honoured by your offer, Shagad… I really am! But even if fate doesn't want me to be with my fiancée in person, I want to be with him in heart."
"But I like you! And I thought that you like me too..."
"I do like you, Shagad. But I can't love you," she replied firmly and without room for discussion.
"Maybe not now. But the affection we hold for each other will eventually turn into love someday! If you can't be together with your fiancée, if you want him to be happy, why can't you be happy?" He desperately tried to persuade her.
It was obvious. He didn't want her to go, didn't want to lose her. She was the first woman he met who shared his values. It wasn't because of his wealth, nor because of his money. She liked him because he was himself, because he was a dreamer who believed that it was possible to abolish slavery, that idealistic ways can surpass realistic ones. They liked each other because they valued and believed in the same things in life. Both strived for freedom for everyone.
"Shagad… I really like you. And I do believe that I could learn to love you. But as long as he lives I can't give up. Even though, we might never be able to marry in the future, as long as there is hope, I am going to believe that everything is possible."
"It seems that I can't deny you that," he chuckled, however, with a crestfallen look in his eyes. Nevertheless, he turned to look at her directly. "Because that's what I like about you."
With his hands he carefully touched her face, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. His green eyes met her turquoise ones.
"There is someone you should seek out. His name is Narsus. He is an old friend of mine and I am sure that he will grant you asylum in his country. Gilan is a beautiful city, but it is dangerous. A lot of slave traders started to visit Gilan not that long ago. Even though, I am sure that you can defend yourself, please go and be safe."
"Don't you want me to stay?"
His hands left her face and he started to rummage through his pockets, searching for something.
"I want you to stay, but I know that there's nothing that binds you here."
Having found what he had been searching for, he took her hand in his and carefully slipped a thin silver band on her ring finger.
"This shall not bind you to any promise or force any responsibility upon you that you don't desire. But please take this as a token of our friendship and a promise to meet again in the future."
As a thank you and possibly as a farewell she kissed his cheek.
"I am sure that we will."
Forward. Faster. Freedom…
Freedom? Can this really be considered as freedom?
Impertinence. Offence. Treason...
Treason? Was what she did reason enough to charge her with treason?
Contempt. Banishment. Exile…
Exile… For as long as she lived, she was about to fight this verdict forced upon her.
Updated: September 27, 2017 – Wednesday
~KayleySayer