Guys, I totally looked up my old ff accounts today, and all I can say is wow. I WAS SO BAD AT WRITING. I re-read a lot of my older work (from when I was like 12 or something) and it's just so bad. And on my profile I was all, "oh, and [fanfic name] is probably my best work of literature" XD Geez...I honestly am so embarrassed. Oh, and no, I'm not telling you my old pen name.
The Black Bird and the Red Beast
By Gold Sparrow
FIRST ARC: Birdcage
CHAPTER 2: First Steps
The world is pink and blue and green.
The sunset splashes generous amounts of a pale rose pink onto the hills and plains before her, the yellow light illuminating the vibrant green grasses spread across them. Flowers of unknown names and origins pop out of the passing ground, winking at her with colorful eyes and sending her gifts perched upon black and yellow bees. It smells strange and unfamiliar, yet she finds herself intoxicated on the scents of dust and crushed grass. Above her, sitting low in the sky and promising gentle rain, the white clouds bathe themselves in the now empty sky, turning a regal, pale blue.
Her feet thump against the soft summer soil, following the path with vigor. She falls in love with what she sees around her, the tender, colorful moments of a new world. Soon she'll have to find a place to camp- the small patch of thick trees to the left looks promising- but for now she admires the beauty around her and allows a small, relieved smile to pull at her lips.
Meeting with her father after he screams at her for messing up isn't always the best experience, but Aishia has learned to shoulder the awkward silence with stride. She knows better than to shift under his intense stare, and instead levels a somewhat chipper smile at him, as if to say, "why are you mad?".
"Aishia," Zuberi crisply greets.
"Father," Aishia mimics, but in a brighter tone. "You are looking so handsome today."
Zuberi rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, still looking dignified.
"We are having a party tonight."
"Really?" Aishia raises an eyebrow, cocking her head. "That's exciting. Why?"
"You'll see." Is his cryptic answer. They sit across from one another in their large dining room, awaiting Sansa- Zuberi's third wife- to finish cooking up breakfast. Her other siblings are barred from this breakfast, mostly because their mothers don't want them (mostly the younger ones) to be exposed to a potential fight. Aishia likes her step-mothers well enough, but wishes they'd trust in her abilities to calm down Zuberi more. "How is Kamaria?"
"She's fine." Aishia yawns.
"I still don't understand why she doesn't have other children."
"She's leaving her land to me." Zuberi huffs, irritated.
"You're in the military. What will you do with a plot of land like that? Farm it?" He chuckles at his own joke, bringing his water to his lips as his eyes narrow in disgust. "You weren't bred to farm, Aishia. You were born a warrior, like me."
Aishia purses her lips.
"Nothing else in the tribe is as important as an Alpha's work," Zuberi reminds her, motioning with his glass between them. "We are the blood of the land, the strongest of all. Warriors deserve more respect."
Aishia pushes down the desire to sigh. Somehow her breakfast with her father has evolved into one of Zuberi's biased rants. But she'd prefer to listen to one of those- she can stomach some of it at least- than hear him drone on about her carelessness. Luckily Sansa interrupts them with the arrival of their meal, her short black hair bouncing as she walks. As the third wife and mother of the two younger kids, Sansa got stuck with "housewife" duties. Generally, it is the spouse with the least responsibilities who takes care of the children, and since Zuberi is a General, the duties fell upon his wives. Zuberi doesn't care about how his wives divvy up the duties as long as it gets done.
Before Aishia was born, Nuru, an Alpha, married Zuberi. She hated not being able to work, but since she chose to marry Zuberi, she understood that she had to care for their pups- two boys. Then Zuberi married Mya, a Beta working as an assistant. Nuru found her way out of responsibilities, and Mya became the stay at home wife, who then had the twins. Following this, Zuberi and Kamaria met. Once, Nuru, when drunk, told Aishia she was elated to learn Zuberi found an Omega. She didn't like sharing her husband- Aishia doubts anyone does- but having an Omega wife would make the childraising easier. Omegas learn in school about domestic affairs, and are praised as adept parents.
Aishia believes that. Kamaria is a perfect mother. She knows how to sew, knit, cook, read and write, bandage wounds and teach good morals. Aishia's childhood was full of warm memories of a loving and strict mother. Nuru and Mya probably thought it was a dream come true to have an Omega joining them. But, Zuberi's cold shoulder toward Omegas and eventual dumping of the pregnant Kamaria crushed his two wives' dreams.
Life continued on. Nuru had Eshe. Mya kept vying to work as a doctor. Then, finally, Zuberi married Sansa, who became the final housewife. Even though Sansa desires to someday reinstate her practice, Aishia doesn't think that her dreams will come true until the younger kids are able to operate one of the three giant skeletons of Visurbis alone.
"Sansa! You look radiant," Aishia greets her warmly, flashing a bright smile. Sansa smiles amusedly. Sansa was always the kindest to Aishia when she moved in with them six years ago. The other wives had known of her existence- Zuberi told them about Kamaria and her pregnancy- and thus were indifferent as they already assumed she'd someday appear. Unfortunately, Sansa came into the picture after Aishia's birth and had no clue about her; at least, until Zuberi showed up with her one day. Sansa therefore wasn't indifferent. She was, however, very flustered and nervous and motherly. Instead of angry at her husband for his affair and actions regarding the girl, she was caring towards Aishia. Her older siblings sneered at her twin braids and "Omega" smell, but Sansa never did that. She didn't try to change Aishia's habits nor scoff at her wonder towards Typhon. Instead she was completely understanding. Aishia found a friend in Sansa, and continues to trust in her like a second mother.
"Dear, do you want tea?"
"Hm? Oh, yes." Zuberi accepts the offered hot drink. Sansa hands another to Aishia, winking at the girl. Aishia brings the cup to her nose, sniffing. It smells heavy yet soothing, the weight and dark color of the drink grounding her to her seat. She feels calm, the same feeling she gains while in West. It tastes like open air and sunshine, an incomparable drink. Sansa's voice reaches her, calm and collected like how a wise Beta should sound.
"Dear, you told me to remind you when it's time for you to leave. You have a quarter-hour according to the sundial." Meaning the giant sundial perched atop the largest tower in the city. Time is dolled out by the ringing of bells every hour, and a second sundial with painted black increments is built into the side of the tower, the hands being moved manually to match the first sundial so everyone can tell the exact time.
Zuberi digests this information together with the first bite of mandazi, cardamom doughnuts dusted with sweet sugar powder. The outside is a lovely bark brown, slightly tough to break, but the inside is a fluffy paradise of yellow clouds. Aishia bites into one as she sips on creamy barazi, a chocolate colored breakfast soup made from coconut milk (grown in a special patch of land in the east) and simmered gunga peas.
"I'll have to get going then," Zuberi decides, standing. Then, he pauses, his hands on the back of his chair. "Don't forget the party tonight, Aishia."
"I would never dream of it."
In the morning, she's awakened by the gentle fingers of a yellow-orange sun. It reaches under the tree she slumbers against, caressing her face with thick strokes. She wakes herself up quickly, the thought of a new day tingling her bones and jump-starting her heart. She dreamt of the next day last night, imagining the towns she'd see and the people she'd meet.
She wonders what kind of fantastic things they've accomplished with their individual cultures and skills. What kind of powers do they possess? What kind of food do they enjoy? She finds herself itching to discover tastes other than the simmering, spicy tang of her homeland's meals. She desires to explore this world, to learn it's secrets, and to experience everything there is to experience.
She stands from her resting place, looking out at the path ahead.
"I will find my way," She promises this to the Amala Goddess of Life, Persephone, Queen of the living and wife of the God of Death, Hades, who rules the underworld and blesses her people with their magic. "I will find my way, even if Hades sends the dogs of Hell upon me- even if the God of Alphas, Cerberus, crawls up through the earth in an effort to stop me. This is my life. This is my future."
"Your future, Aishia, is as clear as it always has been." Aishia sits with her back against her friend's roof. Beside her, her friend, Faraji, lays back as well, his long, straight hair pooling around them. If one looks at the boy critically, it's hard to tell his gender. His smooth, pale skin and black hair contrast perfectly, pure white against a deep, shiny black. His eyes are Amala orange, and are shielded by thick lashes and delicately shaped eyebrows. It doesn't help that he wears Omega clothing. In the farmlands, Omegas wear standard farming attire- dresses with long sleeves, disposable pants and button down shirts. But in other areas, Omegas dress in neater, patterned outfits with triangles stitched into the fabric. He wears the latest Omega fashion of Visurbis: loose, white and blue robes with triangles stitched with orange thread into the cuffs, neckline and hem. It's the clothing of an Omega business person, and yet he continues to appear feminine and fragile.
"And I guess you know exactly what you'll be doing in fifteen years, Faraji?" She deadpans, raising a brow. Still, her smile never leaves her face, and Faraji smiles at her prettily.
"I assume I'll eventually marry. I'm not too good at business, as much as I'd like to be." Faraji confesses, answering her seriously. "But until then I'll keep working."
"Well, you'll have the pick of the litter," Aishia answers him absent-mindedly, playing with his ankle-length hair. She'd always loved his hair, even when they were children. The other kids made fun of him for it, but she and Jabari never did. It was the reason the three were able to form a tight friendship full of trust and understanding. "Alphas and Betas adore you. Even other Omegas have asked for your hand. I told you your beauty would pay off."
She laughs, knowing he dislikes being described with feminine adjectives. When she looks over to see his reaction, she finds her smile wearing off. Faraji looks upwards sadly, his lips turning into a frown.
"Not everyone," He murmurs, almost bitter. Aishia frowns, reaching over to pat his cheek.
"Hey-" His eyes dart to hers, and he blinks away his thoughts.
"You're gonna marry Jabari," Faraji breaths, watching her reaction. Aishia's jaw drops, now the one in shock.
"What?" Faraji colors, as if realizing what he had said. He looks up again, staring at the sight of the many building of Visurbis towering above them.
"I mean- I mean, it's...Jabari loves you," Faraji says, his voice timid. "And he's been wanting to marry you since we were children. Even now he bothers you about it-"
"Faraji…" Aishia sits up, letting go of the Omega's hair. "I can trust you, right?"
"Of course." Faraji replies, sitting up as well. "I've kept both your and Jabari's secrets for years."
Meaning, they both use Faraji as a confidant. A part of their dynamic as a trio is the special friendship with Faraji both Jabari and Aishia have- a middleman who listens and gives advice, but also shares their adventures and drinks with them.
"..." Aishia grips her knees, letting all her anger fall out. "He treats me like a-"
She stops, blushing. A whip of embarrassment and humiliation floods through her.
"Like an Omega?" Faraji supplies, a amused smile tugging at his lips. She hates herself for making that comparison. There is nothing wrong with being an Omega...She let her father's words come out from her mouth, something she never wanted to happen.
She sighs in defeat, owning up to her slip of the tongue.
"Yeah. Like an Omega. Like if he pressures me hard enough, I'll crack and marry him. I'll stay at home and take care of all his children and have a garden full of fresh fruits!" She doesn't know where the last bit of that came from, since there are no gardens in Visurbis due to the dense population and lack of natural sunlight. But she says it anyway, exasperation and annoyance flooding her. She feels tired again, exactly how she felt yesterday when she was traveling to West.
Tired and...Confined.
"You don't want that?"
"No!" She says, covering her face with her hands. "I want...I want to be free."
Peaking her head up, she meets Faraji's eyes, the longing in her heart tumbling out onto her face. Faraji freezes, his face going slack. Then his cheeks flood red, and he begins stuttering, unsure of what to say about her revelation. She keeps looking at him, feeling lost.
"You know...Amala means bird. Bird like...Like a bird flying away into the sky and out of reach."
Faraji's words from so long ago, reappearing to wrap around her like a comforting promise. Feeling safe and relieved from letting out these repressed emotions, Aishia closes her eyes and confesses,
"Free like an Amala. Free like a bird flying away into the sky and out of reach." Faraji stops stuttering. When she looks at him, he looks frozen, his skin turning a snow-like white. He tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing to complete an alien, unsure expression.
"...Ai?"
"What? Oh, nothing. Nevermind." She stands, laughing slightly. She stands, brightly grinning at Visurbis. "Well, I have to go. There is a party tonight my father is making me go to."
"Ai-" Faraji stands as well, scrambling up from the roof. "Um, I have something to tell you."
Aishia pauses, looking back at her old friend.
"Um, you see...Jabari…" Faraji looks down, tugging on the sashes of his robes. "Jabari-!"
"Is this a secret, Faraji?"
"..." Faraji looks down. The bad part of their dynamic is that there are things Faraji can never tell Aishia because of Jabari, and there are things Faraji can never tell Jabari because of Aishia. She admits it's cruel to force him into that position, but also admits that she doesn't know what'd she do without Faraji being there to listen. Aishia scratches the back of her neck, shaking her head.
"It's alright. I don't need to know."
"No, it's…" Faraji slows, sighing. "Nothing. Jabari and I are coming to the party tonight."
"What? You are?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"..." Faraji looks down, grinning weakly at the roof tiles. "It's...A secret."
Aishia moves quickly, her eyes glittering. Coming into view is a large wagon. It's top is covered with an old, dirty white tarp, held up with wood, creating an arch to provide shade for the contents. It's an idea she hadn't thought of before, a design she hasn't seen in her homeland. It makes her heart race ecstatically. Two strange animals pull the wagon forward, making Aishia pause to gawk at them. Their faces are long, and look like upside-down pears. The have oval-shaped muzzles that connect to their faces, with nostrils that are black. Their necks are thick and strong, but flow in a graceful way down to their bodies, which show powerful muscles and eagerly moving legs with hooves that click against the ground.
The closer she gets, the more she realizes that there are many other wagons behind the first wagon. And there are also many people. Some walk upfront, taking their time and enjoying the summer breeze. Others keep close to the wagons, standing together and talking. A few women- mostly women, she notes with an odd frown- sit in the wagons, wearing long dresses made out of dark fabrics, chatting away in the shade.
Her feet take her towards this strange line of wagons, her eyes eagerly soaking up every detail. Her mouth drops open when she sees the brown hair of the travelers and their matching eyes. She had imagined that other races would have hair and eye colors different from her tribe's, but seeing them up close- and seeing them in general- is indescribable. They look so odd and yet so natural, almost as though they colored their hair with soil from the Earth. She is in complete awe by the time she comes across the first wagon and it's leader, quickly moving to stand beside the man.
"Hello!" She greets warmly, hoping that he speaks the same language as she does. The man blinks, surprised by her appearance and decision to walk with him, but manages a pleasant smile.
"Hello." He responds, his hand against the strange animal's hide.
"..." Aishia looks at the beast. "What...Is that animal, exactly?"
The traveler stares at her, one eyebrow dropping deeply over his eye. It's almost as if he thinks she's trying to pull one over on him.
"It's a horse. You've never seen a horse before?"
"A horse," Aishia repeats, her wonder reappearing. She stares at the strong yet pacifist creature, shaking her head. "Wow. That's amazing."
"...Sure." The traveler laughs slightly, his middle-aged chuckle a nice, old sound reminding her of her father's. Even though Zuberi wasn't the best father, she still liked it when he laughed at one of her jokes. "What an odd girl."
The party.
Parties come in many shapes and sizes, according to Aishia's experience. Little get togethers, fun celebrations, festivals. But the least fun of all, to her, is the formal political dinners that her father always throws. Entering the ballroom, Aishia's senses instantly pick up on the fine twang of alcohol and pleasant chattering of grown-ups. While old enough to be considered a mature adult, Aishia still isn't fond of these boring "mature" parties. They are much too boring and serious for her to be entertained or focused. If her father hadn't specified that she should go to this party, and she wasn't currently trying to appease his anger, Aishia would've definitely skipped to go somewhere more fun; like a bar in Lower, one of the lower sections of the city that has a dark atmosphere and a delightfully dangerous vibe.
She theorizes two things about this party: one, it's purpose is for her father to save face from his daughter's failure, or two, it's so Zuberi can announce the successful capturing of 99% of the prisoners. Actually, now that she thinks about it, it's probably both. But Aishia has never been one to stress over outcomes, and grabs a pastry from the buffet, slipping unnoticed through the crowd casually. She scans for Faraji, wanting to talk with her old friend and apologize for acting so unusual today.
"Free like an Amala. Free like a bird flying away into the sky and out of reach."
She still can't believe she let those words escape her.
"Well, don't you look lovely tonight," Aishia turns, catching sight of her boyfriend. Jabari gives her his signature smirk, looking as if he doesn't remember their fight when they separated last. He takes her hands and kisses both her inner wrists, a traditional greeting between lovers, before looking at her dress. It's nothing much, a simple black dress with purple flowers stitched along the bottom. She put her hair in a bun, deciding to take a break from her usual hairstyle of a braided ponytail. He wears a black suit, the kind Betas wear, with his hair slicked back and all of the tiny braids throughout undone. The three groups of the tribe all have their own distinct styles of dress and rituals, but it's often considered most appropriate to dress in Beta-style dress when attending formal gatherings. It has something to do with the neat, orderly attitudes of Betas which can be synthesised with the civilized nature of society events.
"I'd like to think so," She responds, rolling her eyes. "Throwing a party the day after screaming at us...My father's a strange guy."
Jabari frowns.
"I think he's a reasonable man."
"Uh-huh." She laughs. A flicker of a wine-glass, and Aishia spots a girl glaring at them from across the way, holding her cup to her lips. "Oh, don't look now, but Dalila is pining for you again."
Jabari stares at her, a grin spreading over his face. Dalila is the sort-of fourth member in their friend group. Aishia truly has nothing against Dalila, she's a strong Alpha and reliable pack member...But Dalila is quite obviously in love with Jabari, and competes with Aishia in every possible situation. The number of times Aishia has been challenged for her position as Head female Alpha by Dalila is practically infinite. Aishia has never lost, but Dalila is an adaptable and fierce fighter, who proves to be quite the challenge to face. It doesn't help that Jabari flirts with Dalila whenever he's bored, stoking the flames.
"You're the only one for me, you know," He tells her, squeezing her hands. She smiles, but it feels more strained than before.
"So you've told me," She responds, gently nudging him towards the dancefloor. "Let's dance a bit."
Jabari leads the way. Dalila's glare is harsher now, her carrot orange eyes sharpening. She eventually gives up when Aishia continues to ignore her, throwing her black braid over her shoulder as she turns away. Jabari isn't much of a dancer, but he still tries to spin her across the floor, his two left feet often colliding together. She finds this hilarious, laughing at his pouting face.
"So, Ai," He starts, finding somewhat of a rhythm.
"Yes?"
"What do you think about going to dinner after this?" Aishia snorts, half-laughing.
"A second dinner."
"A celebratory dinner." Jabari grins, his smile wide and victorious, as if hearing her laughter is a trophy he's won. Aishia keeps smiling until what he said sinks in and she tilts her head in confusion.
"Celebratory?" Her gaze is suspicious. Jabari's grin falls away as he realizes what he said. He pulls her off of the dancefloor. They go to an alcove, Jabari sighing laboriously. People pass by them, their eyes affectionate and warm when they land on the couple's held hands. Aishia notes this with furrowed eyebrows, not noticing before hand the number of people staring at them.
"Jabari, what's going on?" Jabari purses his lips, before raking his hair back with a clawed hand.
"Listen, Ai, I don't want you to be mad. You know I'm crazy about you, right? I love you with my whole heart." He squeezes her hand, and she looks down, remember her mother's words.
"Oh, darling," Kamaria tuts. "That boy...You don't particularly like him, hm?"
"What? No, of course I do!" She protests, her cheeks coloring.
"As a friend, I'm sure you love him dearly. But as a husband…" Kamaria sighs. "Don't marry him, Aishia. I know you, and I know that you won't be happy with him."
She doesn't love Jabari.
The worst part about knowing that is that she does love Jabari, loves him as one of her closest and most precious people. When they first started dating, she assumed that she would fall in love with him and marry him someday. But she hasn't. When they kiss it feels warm and nice, but it's not the passionate kisses of newly-weds. There is no pitter-patter in her heart. No aching, burning desire in her stomach. She does not want to marry him. And, she realizes in that moment, she doesn't want to be with him anymore. She's stringing him along when she knows he loves her- loves her more than she loves him, loves her with every action he does.
It has to stop. She can't be happy until she stops playing with his emotions. And neither can he, whether it be with Dalila or another woman.
"Jabari, I have to tell you something," Aishia starts, letting go of his hand. "I-I've been feeling this way for a while, and I just have to tell you, okay?"
"Wait, Ai, I have to tell you something first."
"Jabari-"
"Good evening, packmates!" The two jump toward the voice, looking toward the middle of the dancefloor. Standing there is Zuberi, his head held high. He smiles with all his teeth, looking as gentlemanly and respectable as ever. Aishia looks once at Jabari before resigning to listening to her father. She'll have to tell him later. "It's been quite the evening, hasn't it?"
There is cheering. Zuberi settles the crowd with a sweep of his hand.
"But now, I have an important announcement to make. First, I invite my daughter, Aishia, and Jabari the Alpha to join me." Reluctantly, and realizing this is probably part two of Zuberi's plan to punish them for their failure yesterday, Aishia and Jabari make their way to Zuberi's side. Jabari stands on his left, and Aishia on his right.
The clapping only stops when Zuberi clears his throat.
"As you all know, Aishia and Jabari are the Head Alphas of Division 1." More clapping. Here it comes, the punishment. Aishia braces herself, smiling wide. She may have messed up, but there is no reason to cower. When she looks over, Jabari is smiling as well. "And, I am proud to announce a new development which I have given much thought."
Proud?
Aishia sees Sansa, who is looking at the floor. When cheerful Beta meets the gaze of Aishia, her face looks somewhat shocked- like she finally noticed a sword being pointed at her. Sansa quickly re-arranges her face into a normal expression, trying and failing to smile. Aishia is confused, tilting her head questionably. Then there is Faraji, who, upon meeting her gaze, mouthes, 'I'm sorry'. Aishia's smile slowly begins to crumble, feeling like she's been left out of some sort of secret. Dalila is still glaring at her, but upon closer inspection, Aishia notices that her nose is red and her eyes are heartbroken. Nuru and Mya keep their eyes trained on Zuberi. Her siblings, all seven, are present.
Half of a horrifying realization hits her. Jabari lift his head, appearing elated.
"Tonight, we are here to celebrate the engagement between Aishia Exsos and Jabari the Alpha!"
Aishia learns that the man's name is Akram, and he's the leader of a "desert caravan". She has never heard of a desert or a caravan before, so Akram, with a raised eyebrow and a curious stare, describes them to her. He tells her stories about deserts, which are never-ending hills of sunburnt sand and overwhelming heat pounding down like a monsoon of sunshine. Caravans, bands of traders who travel to and from different cities existing throughout the rough-and-tumble desert, use animals known as "camels" and wagons to transport goods.
Akram introduces her to the other members of the caravan, who are just as brown haired and eyed as he is, though different shades. Aishia notices how sweet and demure the women are, and how hardy and weather-worn the men are. She concludes that they are Omegas, though the clothes they wear contrasts so much with Omegas from West and Visurbis...Of course, she's certain that they go by some other name than "Omega". Aishia lifts her chin, feeling wonder-struck by the many things she's learned. This is the adventure she's been wanting, the experiences she been desiring deeply.
"Hey, Akram, where are we going?"
She doesn't hear what her father says next. She doesn't care. What comes after that statement, that promise, is complete blankness. She freezes, her heart stops beating. She finds herself in a state of shock, like a spear was shoved into her gut and the cold hand of death is drawing her into a state of glazed, half-sleep. It is in this state that she is able to stand perfectly still as Zuberi continues his speech and the crowd roars in approval. It is in this state that she is able to fake her way through a line of people wishing to congratulate her. It is in this state that she thinks of the excuse of going to the bathroom.
Instead, she slips out an open window and runs, in heels and a fancy dress, toward the closest skeleton. Typhon, Echidna, Cronos- any one is fine. She discards her shoes and flees through the streets, panic gripping her tightly. She does not want to be a warrior pinned to the ground by a spear. She wants to be a survivor who lives to see another day, she wants her blood to keep pumping through her veins, she wants to feel as alive as she does when she fights. But if she marries Jabari-
Her throat constricts. She gasps for air, tumbling over her dress and hitting the ground. Quickly she picks herself back up, ignoring the curious stares of late-night goers, and keeps running. Typhon, Echidna, Cronos. She heads toward one, not even sure which it is. All she wants is to be far, far away from the people she thought she could trust. She trips again before getting to the skeleton, glad that she's alone on the platform. She crawls aboard the bones, laying flat on the palm. Her chest heaves fast, her cheeks fill with heat. She must look like a mess, racing through the streets barefoot and hysterical.
"Lift me,"
She searches her mind for the name of the skeleton. This one is in the northwest…
"Echidna."
Echinda complies, lifting her up from the city. Aishia continues to lay flat, her hand coated with magic. Then, humiliated, betrayed, and overwhelmed, she begins to cry.
"Balbadd?"
Akram nods.
"Yes. It's a country that's considered the economic hub on the entire continent. Um, Aishia, may I ask something?"
"Sure!" She says brightly. They sit together in his wagon, the older man holding the reigns of his horse. The sun dips lower in the sky, the late afternoon not yet turning into evening. She's been told that there is still much land to be covered before they start setting up camp for the night.
"Do you have memory loss or something? I find it hard to believe you've never seen horses or been a part of a caravan." Aishia's cheeks color. She would like to explain to him that she comes from a place that has long since barred her from seeing the outside, but if she does, she may expose the tribe. And if Zuberi is right about slavers desiring to conquer their people, then doing such a thing will make her a traitor to her own people.
"I come from a place far, far away from here. I fear I'm sheltered," She half-lies, smiling sheepishly. "I hope you don't mind if I stick around for a while. I really want to see this world, you see."
She's hazy and lost when Echidna leaves her outside the pit to Visurbis. Beneath her, the city glows brightly, illuminating her surroundings in the darkness of evening. Slowly she picks herself up, piecing together her scattered thoughts.
Jabari knew.
That was what he was trying to tell her before Zuberi's announcement. He was trying to tell her that he knew. He was the one who asked Zuberi for her hand- going behind her back to her father, even though she has rejected his proposals several times already. He was the first to betray her. But Zuberi was the second by accepting. And everyone else, Faraji, Sansa, her family, never warned her.
Well...Faraji tried. It was her own fault that she refused to let him tell her.
Aishia covers her face with her hands, breathing deeply for several minutes. She has to keep going. Jabari and the others have to have noticed her absence by now- she needs to be somewhere before they come searching.
The only place she wants to be is with Kamaria. She wants the comfort of her mother, the protection and warmth the older Omega provides with her arms. But she cannot hitch a ride to West now, not when the moon is early in the sky and all farmers have put down their plows. So she turns west-word and starts off.
Night.
Fire.
Shouts.
She awakens to orange and red fire, her blurred eyes unable to focus fast enough.
The caravan-
It's being looted. She jolts up, grabbing her bag from where it sits beside her, and pulling out a knife. It's hard to tell apart the caravan workers and the bandits- she assumes they are bandits- but she still dives into the fray, her movements jerky and sluggish from her deep-sleep. She picks up movement to her left, and quickly dodges a punch, ducking beneath the arm and jabbing the man in the side with her elbow. She hooks the back of her ankle behind his knee, pushing him hard so that he looses his balance and falls. Aishia smiles, quickly pinning his arm down with her other foot while jamming her knee into his stomach, her knife now at his throat. In Alpha training, she had taken down countless opponents with that move, delivering blow after blow to her opponents using the Amala martial arts.
Now, she needs to knock him out so she can go help-
Thud.
The dull sound of a fist against the back of her head makes her gasp more than the process of realizing the pain. She falls to the floor, darkness swarming her vision and consuming her thoughts.
(In training, she had only had to deal with one opponent at a time. She was foolish to think this would be like that.)
It's late when she arrives. Very late.
In fact, it may as well be considered early morning. She stops in front of her mother's door, raising her hand. Her feet are dirty and they ache from how far she's walked and for how long, her eyes drooping with exhaustion. She knocks. When there is no answer, she knocks again. She leans against the door, so tired, until she hears footsteps. She pulls back, and watches as her mother's squinting, suspicious face comes into view.
Kamaria's mouth drops open.
"Aishia?"
Aishia's eyes fill with tears all over again.
"Mom," She says, before beginning to sob. Kamaria pulls her into the cottage, wrapping her daughter in her arms.
"Darling, what happened? Why are you crying?"
"Mom," She repeats, sniffling harshly. "D-Dad...He...He announced I'm g-getting married to Jabari."
Kamaria's arms go stiff.
"No, he didn't."
"Yes, he did," Aishia cries, clinging to her mother. "You know the laws. I can't go against the outcome of a match."
Matches, in Amala culture, are sacred. In order to climb the ranks of any Amala branch of hierarchy, whether it be in business or the military, one must participate in a match. Aishia, in order to become Head female Alpha, had to fight many people and win in order to climb the ranks of the military, as did Jabari. For Alphas, engagement matches are just as important. A couple, in order to gain the blessing of one spouse's parents, must challenge a parent to a match and win in order for them to marry.
"A match? No, there is no way that Jabari could've beaten your father in a match, you know that." Aishia pauses, suddenly remembering the validity of this statement. Aishia has never beaten Zuberi, and Jabari can barely pull his own against her.
"B-but he announced it."
"There has to be some sort of reason. Your father-"
Kamaria goes rigid. When she speaks next, Aishia can hear her anger.
"He must've accepted."
Aishia rears back, her eyes wide. Kamaria pushes her more into the house, setting her onto the couch. The Omega woman brushes her hair out of her face, looking frustrated.
"Yesterday, you said you left Jabari to come here after he proposed again, yes?"
Aishia nods.
"And beforehand was the meeting with the Generals, right?"
Something clicks in Aishia's head.
"...Are you saying Jabari asked Zuberi after I left?"
"He must've. The loss of the convict is a difficult thing to cover up. It would've haunted you and Jabari and, in extension, Zuberi, for years afterwards."
"...They're using our marriage to distract the public." Aishia murmurs, suddenly understanding. Kamaria closes her eyes.
"It would be a high-profile wedding between two famous Alphas. Jabari gets the wife he's wanted and Zuberi is still the most respected man in the tribe. A win-win."
"Son of a-"
"Language." Aishia stands, her shock and anger dulling her feet's pain. She rakes her hands through her hair, pulling it out of it's bun. After pacing a little, she turns back to her mother, arms thrown apart.
"They can't do this," She says, her chest heaving. "They can't. This isn't fair! I've said no to Jabari more times than I can count."
"The outcomes of matches are law in the tribe." Kamaria solemnly replies, moving to sit facing her daughter. "Even though Zuberi didn't fight Jabari, he forfeited. I bet he even already has a documented version of the match filed away in case you challenge him."
"I don't want to marry Jabari." Aishia places her hands against her temples, pressing hard. "I can't marry Jabari. I don't love him."
"I know you don't." Kamaria murmurs, understanding and gentle. There is a few tense moments of silence. "...Darling, go to sleep. Rest."
"...I don't know if I can."
Kamaria nods in understanding.
"I know. But for now, try, and we will discuss things more in the morning."
If she had been anywhere but her childhood bedroom, sleep would've been impossible. But instead, she's surrounded by the scent of her mother and the warmth of fond memories, which lull her into a peaceful state. Her heart sometimes picks up as thoughts of Jabari and Zuberi come back, a fearful reaction she hates feeling; as if she's some sort of wild animal being hunted instead of a proud, fierce hunter. Her gut churns, a hot, crumbling feeling that hollows out her stomach with it's all-consuming appetite. She has to wrangle in her emotions to keep herself calm, collected. She thinks about other things; like Faraji's suitors and Dalila's pesky attitude.
Aishia doesn't remember falling asleep, but she finds herself opening her eyes up to sunshine peering at her through the doorway, her mother standing there with a basket of laundry on her hip.
"I didn't mean to wake you," Kamaria says, more considerate and gentle than usual. If it had been another time, another visit, her mother would've had her up and doing chores at the sound of the rooster cawing angrily. Now it must be near noon, the sun in full force and the farmhands out and about.
"No, it's okay."
"Hm." Kamaria purses her lips, standing awkwardly in the doorway. "Well...No need to dilly-dally. Let's get to work, yeah? It'll distract you."
"...Yeah."
From noon until evening, she works. She works in the gardens with her mother, pulling weeds and carrying water from the well, tending to the plants with care and diligence. She immerses herself in washing and hanging laundry, dedicates herself to sweeping the house and milking the cow outback. She works for hours, deciding to exhaust herself so that sleep tonight will come easily to her.
Her mother and her exchange a few words, but they mostly work side by side in silence, the situation on each of their minds. A few times Kamaria mentions going to talk to Zuberi, but Aishia shoots down her plans every time. Call her proud, but she doesn't want her mother to have to deal with her problems for her, not to mention she doesn't want Zuberi to say anything hurtful to the Omega woman he abandoned once before.
Then, dinner time comes. Aishia is put in charge of making the stew, leaving her mother to finish up a few chores. When they congregate at the kitchen table to eat, Kamaria finally speaks up, her back straight.
"I went to see your father once, when you were a babe."
Aishia freezes, her spoon lifted to her lips.
"...Huh?"
"I went to see your father." Kamaria repeats, looking somewhat uncomfortable in her own actions. "I did...I did not want him to take me in. I did not expect him to pay my way through life. I didn't even expect him to fall over himself admiring you...Though, naively, I hoped he would."
"Why didn't you tell me?" The Omega's eyes drop.
"Well, ah...I was embarrassed," She reveals, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. "I went to your father...And he said that he was not the kind of man who wanted an Omega by his side. He told me that he had no use for me."
"T-that's," Aishia grips her spoon hard, trying to voice her feelings. Zuberi had no right to say that to Kamaria. It was a cruel thing to do. Kamaria laughs slightly, holding up a hand to calm her turbulent daughter.
"But you know what, Aishia?"
"What?"
"I didn't have a use for him." Kamaria shrugs. "I didn't love him. I didn't realize that until he was so cold to me, refusing to hold our child."
Kamaria raises her eyes to the ceiling, sighing.
"Then, years later, he found a use for me; he found out about my darling daughter's skills as an Alpha, and he thanked me for raising you. After ignoring me, he came back into my life to take." Her peach-orange eyes meet her tangerine-orange ones. "Do you know what I'm saying, Aishia, darling?"
"...Yes." Aishia looks down. "Zuberi hardly cared about me when I lived with him. And now-" Her throat feels tight. "-now he's taking away my freedom."
"Exactly." Kamaria agrees, looking sad. The older woman stands. Aishia watches as she disappears into her bedroom, coming out with a bag in hand. It's one of their traditional bags, a knitted black bag with purple designs interwoven carefully. Kamaria plops it down on the table.
There is a tense moment, in which Aishia looks up at Kamaria questionably and Kamaria looks right back down with tearful eyes.
"You...You, my Aishia, are a special child." She says, her throat visibly tight. "You were born with such spirit, such flame. Our ancestors are with you. I have always known that this," She motions around her, referring not only to West, but to all of the tribal lands. "Has never been enough for you. You are a restless soul who desires the world."
Aishia stands now, shaking her head.
"Mom-"
"You don't belong here."
The words hang in the air, like a judgement being passed.
"You don't belong here." Kamaria repeats. "So...I'm not telling you to do anything. That's your choice. But...You will be fine, Aishia. You are strong and brave and smart, and people love you. I have faith in whatever choice you make."
"I would not blame you."
That makes so much more sense now.
"I can't," Aishia says, her words as weak as her resolve. "Dad's always talking about…"
"Ai." Kamaria laughs gently, reaching over to cup her daughter's face, "Fate is with you. Go. Be free, like you want to be."
The offer is tempting.
So tempting.
Her bag is already packed, her ties have already been cut...But not truly, she knows that. Zuberi and Jabari await her to come home to Visurbis, and will probably be here in West tomorrow morning, coming to collect the reluctant bride. Faraji must just feel awful, and if she leaves him behind without a single word-
"Leave a letter." Kamaria murmurs.
There are slave traders outside the barrier. There are mysterious, dangerous things she's never encountered before. What if she takes one step outside and dies-?
"You've never run from a fight." Kamaria reminds her.
What about the past sixteen years of her life? Is she going to throw away her work, her duties, her friends, for a trip? She has had to kick her own butt day after day in order to gain the respect she has throughout the tribal lands, and giving that up is a fatal blow.
"You've never cared what people think." Kamaria presses.
Aishia sees no reason to go. The outside world is dangerous. Her life here is good.
Which is why it's hard for her to explain why her hand reaches out and grasps onto the handle of the bag. The weight of it tells her that her mother's packed everything she'll need, and the way it presses against her hip fills her up with adrenaline.
The outside world is dangerous. Her life here is good.
Except that she wants more. Call her selfish, but she craves more. To be wild. To be unburdened. To be free.
"I'll be going, then." She says, her voice hoarse. Her mother nods, a hand pressed to her mouth.
"Good luck," Kamaria says, her voice strained and cracking. Aishia rushes forward quickly, enveloping her mother in a tight hug.
"I'll come back," Aishia promises, breathing in the Omega's familiar and calming scent. "And when I do, we'll talk about all the wonderful things on the outside. I love you, Mom."
"I love you, Aishia."
Aishia smiles nervously, hand on the door handle.
"...See you."
And she exits.
She awakens in a dark, damp cell surrounded by many other people.
The woman who holds Aishia's head in her lap gasps upon seeing her eyes flicker open, worriedly helping the Alpha to sit up. Her eyes are honey-colored, and her skin is pearly. And yet, her eyes hold swaths of shadows along the lines, and her lips purse nervously with the flicker of past pain. Aishia looks around for Akram or another member of the caravan. Not seeing any of them, she turns to the woman who had cared for her.
"Where are we?"
"The base." The woman vaguely responds, her voice quiet- barely over a whisper. "They brought you here yesterday- we were worried you wouldn't wake up."
"Did they bring anyone else?"
"No. Just you." Aishia doesn't know whether to be relieved or not. Around her, the other people slowly return to their previous activities, all of their faces hallow and pale. They look distracted, drained. They chatter in low, dark tones, looking around themselves as if to ward off others and keep themselves furtive. A lot of them draw or carve on the stones below them, activities many of the children take to. Aishia is shocked to see the number of children among them. All of the children in the tribe are full of life, tiny little annoyance that run through the streets and fill the air with vibrant air. To see so many little kids around but not playing together worries her.
"Who..." Aishia looks back at the honey-eyed woman. "Who are 'they'?"
Everyone in the cell goes quiet, as if Aishia asked a forbidden question. With bated breath, they stare at Aishia's caregiver, awaiting her answer. The woman shakes, her thin limbs wrapping around herself, the chains around her wrists clattering noisily-
Chains?
Aishia's eyes widen with realization and slight horror, but before she can ask anything, there is the rattling of keys and thumping of footsteps. Everyone looks to the doorway, where a thin, average-looking young man comes into the room. He pauses before the bars, glaring with distaste at those locked within. With a scoff, he is about to turn away before catching sight of Aishia. Then, a slow, predatory smile graces his lips.
"Master," The honey-eyed woman trembles, hiding slightly behind the man to her left. Aishia barely keeps herself from panicking.
A breath in, a breath out.
Aishia stands in front of the barrier, having had located it with rocks. Behind her, the glowing embers of West barely illuminate the forest, leaving her in darkness. She clutches a lantern in her hand, her knees shivering so bad they click together.
I'm leaving.
She's leaving.
It's something taboo and wrong, and yet she's going to do it. She's going to find her way in the world, one step at a time.
That thought in mind, Aishia smiles excitedly, and takes her first step.
"Well," Master crows, his chuckle a hardy, ominous sound, "Glad to see you're awake. I'm sure your very confused, so I'll make this quick:"
Aishia's orange eyes clash with the man's black ones.
"You are now a slave. Welcome to your new life."
Oh my Gosh! We've finished this chapter! This took longer than I thought it would, sorry :P But I hope you all like it! To recap, Aishia was tricked by her father and Jabari into an engagement, and left the tribe in order to escape it. However, on her travels, the caravan she was with got attacked by bandits/slavers and she, as a consequence, was made into a slave as well.
Also! If the name "Akram" rings a bell to anyone who has read Starry Skies, that is because he is from Starry Skies. More specifically, he is from chapter 3.
AND WHO WANTS MUU? The answer is me. 100% me. So...NEXT CHAPTER INTRODUCES MUU!
Got any questions or suggestions? Something wrong about the chapter? Grammatical errors, something you didn't like? PM me or leave it in the reviews, I will reply and see what I can do to make the story better/clearer for y'all to understand. ILY MY DARLING READERS!
BYE~~~~~~~
