Chapter 6: What Goes Peep In the Night
Despite his earlier display of confidence, there were traces of hesitation in his step, characterized by nervousness and inward uncertainty.
He wandered the outer, "safer" areas like the courtyards and lounging rooms for several minutes. Although he was a sucker for puzzles, the maze that was Arnook's manor evoked little concentration from him. He was lost in a brain fog of sorts, making a half-hearted attempt to memorize the building. Outside, the gardens all blended together, and inside, the endless hallways all bled into one another. The stairs were near-perpetual, igniting the already-searing burn in his muscles. No matter how far he went, no matter how long he walked, he often found that he was walking around in circles; he initially relied on the servants' wisdom, but as the time candles sparked midnight, very few servants remained until the main hallways grew completely empty.
And perhaps what caught him off guard the most was that in nearly every hallway he traversed, he ran into at least one painting of Zhao — something he found to be quite odd given this was Arnook's mansion.
"Guess all the quill ink went into painting his sideburns," he drawled under his breath.
And not to mention how weird it was that, despite the occasion being Arnook's daughter's wedding, not a single servant had mentioned the businessman all day…
Focus, Sokka, focus—
"The groom's family is here!" came a shriek from outside that nearly jolted him out of his senses.
Already? He blinked, rushing to the nearest window and peering into the courtyard three stories down. He noticed that the servants who had dispersed earlier were scrambling to straighten their uniforms as they reconvened by the gates, bowing away to their bosses and seniors. Zhao strutted to the forefront in his crimson robes, followed by several men of Fire. Within minutes, hordes of people trampled the tundra, filing in greeting around the fanciest husky-drawn, sleigh-like carriage Sokka had ever laid eyes on. Oozing perfection, the carriage rolled up to the gates, receiving cheers of greeting.
Sokka couldn't care any less, but the fact that the manor was going to be bustling with people again— especially this late at night given the importance of the occasion— did not bode well for his mission. He took a deep breath and looked out of the nearest window, searching for the moon to use as his marker.
That way is east, he confirmed to himself, turning in the direction of his interest and racing down a particular corridor. The pristine grandiosity of the manor slowly began to wither as he sprinted further eastward. There were fewer torches in the area, too, he noted as he grabbed hold of one such rarely-occurring torch and trudged on.
He was not sure how long he traveled down this path, but he was relieved to see traces of light towards the end. He could hear distinct voices, all of them bursting into rambunctious laughter. Sokka kept his torch hidden to prevent drawing attention to himself, leaning against the wall of the corridor as he observed the group huddled around. It was a group of guards, all donning Fire clothing, many of the men seeming incompetent at first glance. Half of them were on the verge of dozing, and another half was gathered on the floor, their spears leaning against the wall as they shuffled a few cards and laughed on. Those who slept did not mind the obnoxious laughter, and those who carried on with their activities didn't mind the snores of those who were asleep. What was most significant about this sight, though, was the sizeable arch-like door sitting behind them, the front of which had a large sign taped to it: NO TRESPASSING. LIMITED ENTRY.
They've got to be guarding something highly valuable.
After sparing a few moments to formulate a plan, Sokka straightened himself up, walking into the area, "Um… hey guys. I'm new here."
They paused their card game and looked up at him.
"The name's Sokka Ingiullik," he bowed and issued a Fire greeting, "I was sent by Mr. Zhao to let you know the groom's family's here."
"Already?" one of the guards frowned, "They weren't supposed to be here until tomorrow!"
"I don't know, man," Sokka shrugged, "One minute I was on my way to my quarters, and the next minute, I see the entire tribe gathering by the gates. Mr. Zhao's assistant…I can't remember the guy's name, exactly… but he said Mr. Zhao wants you guys there to help greet the guests."
"Us?" another guard asked in disbelief, "But we need to keep guard. We can't just leave."
"I don't know about all that," the tribesman said. "I was told to send you guys there and keep guard here."
"You? Keep guard here?" one of the guards stood up, incredulous, "You're a newbie!"
"Exactly, that's what I told 'em, but they authorized me—"
"They authorized you?"
"Look, friends, my name's in the registry for security personnel training or whatever it's officially called. I've been drilling my ass off all day, and I don't need to be here guarding some haunted-looking hallway when I could be getting some sleep. But the thing is, it's only about time until I become one of you and have a place to guard. Maybe that's why Mr. Zhao was willing to give me a chance. The fact of the matter is that he'd rather have the newbies here than over there with the groom's family. He doesn't wanna rely on inexperienced people to properly welcome the groom and his folks. Something about making sure things don't get screwed up…"
"And are you sure he wanted all of us to go there?"
"That's what the assistant guy told me," Sokka nodded.
"Well… we still can't just leave our posts," another guard piped up with a bit of hesitation.
"Okay then," Sokka sighed, holding his hands up as if he appeased their demands, "No harm done for me. I'll just tell Mr. Zhao you said all this. I'm sure he'll be real happy to hear it. Give me your names again, won't ya? I'll run 'em by him real quick—"
"Hey, hey, woah," a fourth guard chimed in, "Are you trying to get us fired?"
Feigning innocence, "But you guys just said—"
"We'll go, we'll go," he said, earning nods of agreement, "Just don't say anything to him. Look, this is very, very important. You have to make sure no one goes inside."
"You got it, boss," Sokka gave a Fire greeting again, "You can count on me."
After waking the rest of their comrades, the guards trailed off quickly and without further protest, muttering amongst themselves.
"Mr. Zhao really is taking this seriously…"
"What else do you expect? That contract's worth billions of gold pieces…"
Sokka rolled his eyes, waiting for a few minutes even after they rounded the corner before letting out the breath he'd been holding. This was almost too easy with the way they left. He quickly charged through the arching door, bringing it to a hasty close behind him. He took a deep, ragged breath, turning around. The endlessness of this corridor didn't surprise him, either.
"Greeeaat…" he leaned against the door, every part of his body aching, "more walking."
He didn't make it very far this time, tumbling onto the pelt carpet, nearly falling asleep thanks to its unexpected softness. It was also a pungent reminder of home, of his pelted cot and the tundra winds countered by the warm fire in the hearth. He was also quickly becoming disheartened; he'd secretly hoped it would be harder to get past the guards, and while it was unorthodox for him to wish his plan had failed, in this particular circumstance, it owed to his discomfort over the mission itself combined by his crabbiness over the long day.
Dammit. This doesn't feel right. He sighed and sprawled out on the carpet like a polar-starfish, his arms and legs pointing in different directions.
"The medicines have brought her along this far, but I think a procedure is very necessary."
"I'm sorry, man, but I don't want to have to be last in line if you go bankrupt."
"For Gran Gran," he sighed, wearing a determined frown as he shot himself up. "What else can I do?"
There were very few windows and very little opportunity for natural light to swoop in. Not to mention the lack of torches other than the one he brought along, which was starting to dim, not helping with his observations. There were very few doors, all of which happened to be storage rooms or janitor closets.
"They can't store that money in banks…Most of it is illegally obtained, and the amount they have would be ten times their actual profits. They will have to answer to financiers and legal authorities."
Which made Sokka wonder if the vault was purposely placed in one of these undesirable settings so very little attention would be drawn to it. And yet, he didn't have much luck with his explorations. He also didn't fully believe the money would be in such vulnerable places. Certainly if this corridor's upkeep was a priority, there were servants who had limited permission, probably, to maintain the place. Wouldn't those servants stumble upon the money? Even if it was supposedly stashed in some secret place within the closets?
He sighed and walked on, taking note of the walls, keeping an eye out for another door. He made his way through a foyer-type space before entering another arch-like entrance. There were no signs around this entrance. To his surprise, he found that the doors were not locked, which only increased his conflicted feelings.
"After two months, her situation will get really complicated."
"The groom's side should only be responsible for the Air Nomad ceremony; we need to do our part to host the Water Tribe ceremony. Tradition demands that much, at least."
He took a deep breath before entering and closing the doors behind him again. He was thankful to see torchlight again, marveling at the grandiose chambers. There was no scarcity of portraits here, either, but this time they were of a tribesman— likely Arnook. Sokka took a look at the portrait nearest to him; the tribesman in the portrait did not appear to be intimidating. He seemed to hold a nearly regal vibe about him, but strangely, it wasn't accompanied by a look of arrogance or haughtiness.
Don't be deceived by looks, Sokka, he told himself, raising his eyebrows as he eyed the several other portraits of "likely Arnook" that the rest of the corridor.
"Seriously," he huffed, "How many pictures are there of the same exact guyooohhhhhhhhh….?"
Sokka had seen many beautiful sights today— the North, the manor, the glimmer of moonlight over the canals and gondolas— but nothing could have prepared him for the goddess-like figure sitting across from him on the floor. She was sleeping, thankfully, and didn't witness his shameful snooping; her knees were pulled up to her chest, her arms hugging her knees and her head resting against a tapestry on the wall. She was wrapped in a loose dark cloak that cocooned her with its warmth, serving as a stark contrast to the surprising fairness of her tribal-esque complexion. Her long white hair rippled down behind her, the lush locks sprawling out and flowing like tributaries of milk onto the pelt carpet. A few of her locks huddled near her neck, which he observed to be lacking a betrothal necklace.
Oh Tui and La, his eyes softened, blood instantly rushing to his face. His irritability melted away beneath the sudden simmer of awe, such that his entire mission was erased from memory for a few seconds. She tilted to her side in her sleep, nearly falling over and almost hitting her head against the bench sitting adjacent to her, but he reached out and placed his hand cautiously by her head, using his other hand to move the bench away from her. She didn't wake up, perhaps too tired to stir, her soft cheek grazing against his hand. His chest fluttered in a manner so foreign to him as he blinked at her with bated breath.
Who is she? he wondered. What is she doing here? Unless she was one of the few people authorized to be inside. Could it be that she was a maid? She had to be, judging by the simplicity of her cloak, her disheveled hair, the fact that she was sleeping out in the hallway, and the exhaustion etched on her face. And if her situation was anything like his as far as desperately needing a job to move forward, it would not bode well for her to be caught sleeping on the job. He looked both ways, finding that there was no trace of anyone else. He wondered if he should wake her, his hand hovering over the entrance door, preparing to knock in hopes that it would wake her…but how could he? It seemed like she was chasing a few moments of peace…
What am I doing? he shook his head as common sense struck him in the face, bringing him out of his daze. I shouldn't still be here. The last thing he wanted to do was come off as a creep. And there's no one else here anyway. Hopefully she'll wake up soon. Besides, what would he say if she asked him how he was here? Play the newbie card again? Not to mention the guards might come back anytime soon, and he should probably be heading out anyway.
No big deal, he straightened himself up, I'll just tell 'em there's nothing suspicious. They can't come in unless it's an emergency anyway. They don't have to know.
But by the Spirits, she was beautiful, the less rational part of his brain kept reminding him. He realized that his lips had curled into an ear-splitting smile without his knowledge, that he was leaning against the entrance with a soft sigh, a defeated man as she continued to glimmer in the dark like a piece of the moon that tumbled from the sky...
The sound of footsteps suddenly came from the other end of the entrance, freezing him in his place, and before he knew it, a hesitant knock jolted his attention.
Fuck, he fumbled to get away, stubbing his foot against a leg of the bench, the impact of which knocked his boomerang to the ground. He held in his yelp, clamping a hand over his mouth and trying to reach for his boomerang, but the woman stirred by then. He abandoned his attempt at recovering his boomerang, and after realizing he wasn't close enough to a closet to seek adequate refuge, he threw himself behind the giant curtain of a nearby window. He sat on the ledge, very carefully peeking out from behind the thick fabric.
The woman stood up, straightening her cloak and casting her hair behind her as she cracked the door open. A woman with a babbling, squirming toddler in her arms greeted the white-haired woman with a bow, "I'm so sorry I'm late. This boy's a handful."
"It's not a problem at all, Imka," the younger woman said, her face gently brightening at the young child who was heavily invested in the little plush ball in his hand, "It's great to see you again, Iyaam."
And when she smiled, it was infectious, making Sokka feel as if all was right in the world.
Alright, Sokka, settle down.
The woman led the mother and son to the bench, her robes swishing nonchalantly past Sokka's boomerang, much to the tribesman's relief.
"Did you tell the guards I invited you? They didn't give you a hard time, did they?"
"There were no guards outside, actually," Imka said, "So I just slipped in."
The white-haired woman frowned, "No guards? That's strange. But I'm glad it made things easy for you."
Imka handed her young son over to the woman, "His primary healer said he's gaining the weight he needs. Do you think she's right?"
"Of course," she said, "I can see the results for myself."
So she's a healer, Sokka noted.
The tribeswoman tried to situate the toddler in her lap long enough to feel his pulse, but he kept wiggling and resisting, eventually sliding down and waddling towards the boomerang that he had spotted. Sokka held in a gasp.
"Iyaam, get over here," his mother ran after him, but the boy had already picked up the boomerang, nearly about to put it in his mouth.
"I think his toy fell down," the tribeswoman said. "I'll wash it right quick and—"
"No, that's not ours," Imka tossed the boomerang away from her son. He screamed and babbled something angrily before picking the boomerang back up and running away from his mother's grip.
"Iyaam, get back here!"
Before he could find his way out of the room, however, the tribeswoman raced over and caught up to him, gently picking him up in her arms and giggling, "Well, someone's very active."
And boy, was her giggle the sweetest sound Sokka had ever heard. It was amazing to him how a human being could so remarkably resemble Tui, the moon queen who ruled the sky, stars, and sea in Gran Gran's stories, wandering the earth with some divine purpose…
Okay, you've gotta stop, the rational part of him berated.
"Give me that," Imka took the boomerang away from the boy and tossed it aside on the carpet, and although he wailed for a few more minutes, he was quickly pacified by the sight of the tribeswoman's flowing white hair as it sparkled like glitter beneath the vibrant moonlight. He reached for her locks, grabbing some and staring at them.
"Iyaam, no, don't do that—!"
"It's okay," the tribeswoman chuckled, leading them back to the bench and seating him back on her lap.
"He's driving me crazy," the mother sighed.
"Then he's on the right track," came the smile. "The beauty of children is their innocence and mischief."
While the toddler was distracted by her hair, she felt his pulse at his wrist. She nodded in approval, casting the anxious mother a reassuring look, "His pulse is great." And after a few more minutes of examination, she confirmed, "There are no signs of infection. Iyaam is perfectly healthy. You don't have to bring him to me anymore."
"Thank the Spirits! And thank you. Thank you so much," her voice cracked, "I don't know how I would've afforded a procedure for him. He's so young, and… The other healers…they insisted he wouldn't make it…"
"They'll say that," the woman's voice bore an ounce of bitterness, "But they don't seem to either know or care about the risks associated with operating on the extremely young and the extremely old. I'm not at all saying that all healers demand unnecessary procedures, but it's unfortunate that it's becoming a trend for many healing huts to demand high costs for a procedure that's 'very necessary.' Even if it's not. And in nearly seventy percent of the cases I've seen…the results were not worth it."
Sokka felt his whole world crashing down for a moment.
"The medicines have brought her along this far, but I think a procedure is very necessary."
"All expenses combined, the procedure will cost forty thousand gold pieces."
"But they don't seem to either know or care about the risks associated with operating on the extremely young and the extremely old."
"In nearly seventy percent of the cases I've seen…the results were not worth it."
No, a devastated Sokka shook his head vehemently, Yugoda wouldn't do that. She's been Gran Gran's best friend for years…
"But I'm working under several supervisors, and I need to answer to them."
"Many times, it's not even the healer's decision," the tribeswoman said, confirming his thoughts, "These decisions are already made by higher-ups." A sigh as she brushed her hand over the toddler's head, "It's not something I can fight easily, but the least I can do is provide alternatives. I'm really glad the herbs have worked on him."
The boy's mother dried her watering eyes, "I'm so sorry. I prioritized bending healers to the point of ignoring your suggestions."
The tribeswoman shrugged, "I've heard worse from other people. I still remember everyone looking at me like I was crazy when I told them I wanted to study herbalism. But it's all worth it. I'm just glad the Spirits allowed me to help." She handed the boy back to his mother, gently tugging her hair from his grip and giving him his plush ball. She then reached into the folds of her cloak and pulled out some currency notes, placing them in the woman's hand.
"W-What's this…?" Imka looked from the tribeswoman to the cash.
"Keep it with you," the tribeswoman said. "I hear they cut a percent of your salary for missing too much. I know you and your husband had to stay home with Iyaam for a while."
Shaking her head, "I can't do this. I can't take this from you…"
"Yes, you can," the tribeswoman said, a hint of melancholy in her gaze, "I wish I can give a little bit more, but I'm no longer in the financial position to do so. Nothing's in my hands anymore and… I don't know how much more I can do from now on."
The older woman, anxious as she was, couldn't help but take the currency, "Thank you. Thank you for everything. Even after what Minri did…you're still willing to help us—"
"I kind of don't want to talk about that right now. And just because one person did something doesn't mean the rest of you need to bear the brunt of it."
Imka gulped, "Miss Y—"
"You should hurry back," she interrupted her. "Before anyone sees you here. The guards will be back any minute. If you see them, just tell them I asked you to run an errand for me."
The mother could do nothing more than bow repeatedly in thanks before hoisting her son over her shoulders and hurrying out of the hallway.
So is she a herbalist or a maid? Sokka kept blinking at the white-haired beauty, overwhelmed by many different feelings, Or a maid who went to healing school? Well whoever she is, she's compassionate. Maybe she can help with Gran Gran's heart condition. Maybe I don't have to go through with this Spirit-damned mission—!
But his stream of thought froze when her attention returned to his fallen boomerang. She looked both ways as if waiting for someone to claim it before kneeling down and picking it up. Sokka tried not to squirm from nervousness, certain that his first impression would tank if she caught him, but the universe was not on his side at the moment judging by the way she stared in the direction of the curtain behind which he was hiding. Seconds later, he realized that her alarmed look was glued to his snowboots, which were visible from under the curtain.
Dammit!
Before he knew it, she pulled the curtain aside, blinking at him, her wide eyes quickly turning narrow.
"Uh, wait, don't panic, please!" he flushed despite being the one openly panicking, "I know this doesn't look so good, but I-I can explain, I'm not a stalker, please—!"
"Are you supposed to be a burglar or something?"
"No, no, ma'am, I'm not, I just…" And as he succumbed to the demands of his adrenalin, which urged him to come up with some kind of excuse, he found his eyes taking a different route, fixating on her inquisitive glare. The peeping moonlight fell perfectly on her, accentuating the baby-blue eyes, which lapped and wavered like oceans lit by the wink of moonlight. He could drown in them at this rate, "I'm… lost…"
"Lost?"
He jumped out of his daze, nodding, "I-It's my first time here. I-I was drilling all day, and I heard I'll get my posting tomorrow. I wanted to explore so I'll be more efficient and…"
"Were you so lost that you didn't see the no-trespassing signs?"
"It was dark. There were no torches out there, I…I'm sorry, I'll be careful next time."
Crossing her arms, "If you really were lost and did nothing wrong, why did you hide?"
"Uh…because I heard the people here can be very…I thought they wouldn't believe me even if I told them I'm lost so…You know how it is. Working for the wealthy."
Working for the wealthy. She didn't protest, wearing a perturbed frown.
"I didn't want to get caught doing something I'm really not doing, you know…? I didn't want anyone to be suspicious…" Despite the circumstances now being such that she was very likely suspicious of him, "I-I was gonna slip back out…after you left. I really mean no harm."
The woman took a deep breath, appearing more tired than anything else. "So you're part of the security unit?"
"That's what I was told."
"What's your name?"
Again, he found himself warped into her eyes, "S-South. From Sokka."
"Hm?"
"Sorry, sorry," he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "Sokka Ingiullik. From the South."
"Sokka Ingiullik..." she mused.
Never had his name sounded more beautiful to his ears. "Y-Yeah…"
She seemed to have recognized the name given her expression, but she said nothing of it. "Well even if you're part of the security unit, that doesn't give you unlimited discretion to go wherever you want. You've seen this place, haven't you? There are guards everywhere."
"I'll be careful next time. Super careful," he said. "D-Do you mind showing me where the exit is?"
She took another look at him before acquiescing, "Follow me."
"Thanks so much." He winced as he took a few steps forward, hissing from the burn in his muscles.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. A little sore, that's all. I've been drilling all day."
"Wait here for a moment," she said, grabbing a torch from a sconce on the wall and handing it to him before she disappeared further into the hallway. A minute later, she stepped back out, taking the torch from him as she led the way. She then remembered that she was still clutching the boomerang in her hand. Holding it out to him. "By the way, is this yours?"
"Yeah. My dad gave this to me when I was little, I keep it in memory of him."
Her eyes softened. She brushed the dust off of it against her cloak, handing it to him.
"It's okay," he smiled, strapping it in its sheath at his belt, "Thanks."
She led him back down the endless hallway with great confidence as if she had been down this path a million times. From the light of the torch, he could see that her eyelids were half-closed, her gaze pointed to the ground.
"You must be really tired," he pointed out softly, "But, uh, just be on the lookout next time."
"Me?" she eyed him.
"I mean, it won't be good if somebody catches you sleeping on the job," he said. "I'm trying to be my best self, too, actually, or they'll fire us for the tiniest things. You know how rich people are. Always acting like there's something up their asses." Shrugging sweetly, "So, uh, just be careful…"
She blinked at him, seemingly caught off guard by the comment, "You don't know who I am?"
"You're a healer, right? But you also work here?"
She said nothing, not bothering to correct him and instead playing along, issuing a subtle nod.
"So uh…I couldn't help but hear you telling that lady," he twiddled his fingers, "Is it true that…that healing huts are now starting to do that? Ask a lot of money and do procedures for no reason…?"
"Not all of them," she said, "But some, unfortunately. Why?"
"It's just that…well, someone told us that my Gran Gran— my grandmother— needed a procedure done, too. For her heart condition."
With a concerned frown, "What does she have? Do you know? Do you have any of her medical reports, by any chance?"
"I don't..." Scratching his head, "It's some kind of heart condition. I don't know the exact name of it, but there's apparently some kind of blockage in her arteries. I know she can't eat certain things. It's a long list." And he rambled on about all the different foods that Yugoda prohibited Kanna from indulging in to maintain her health, concluding his description with, "But she's recommended to eat bitter kelp as much as she can."
"Did she take medication for her condition? Before the healers told you about the procedure?"
"Yeah, she takes some kind of powder that she has to mix in water. She drinks it before bed."
A few more moments of thought later, the woman nodded, "I can guess what her condition is."
Frowning worriedly, "Do you think this one of those cases where…maybe doing the procedure is the final option? I mean…it costs forty thousand gold pieces, and…There's nothing I'd be able to do to get that money. I asked help from a lot of people in my village, and they're not gonna loan me more." Turning to her, "I'm really close to my Gran Gran. After my mom and dad passed, she raised me and my sister. I just…I don't wanna lose her, you know?"
The tribeswoman stopped walking, taking note of the shake in his voice and step. She granted him a look of assurance, "You won't. I've seen cases like this before, and I know of a herbal serum that can help."
"You do?" he widened his eyes.
"She's going to have to take it once a day for about a year," the woman told him. "If she prefers to take it before bedtime, that's perfectly fine, too. Diet will help. Walks are good if she's able to take them—"
"Where can I get this serum?!"
"I'll have it ready by tomorrow morning," she said. "It's very easy to make, and the herbs are easy to find in tundras. I'll write down the instructions for making it. If you can, mail the instructions and the serum to your grandmother as soon as possible. It should start taking effect after the first week of use. There are no known side effects other than maybe drowsiness until her body gets used to the medication. She'll be feeling better in a few months' time. No procedure required."
It was unbelievable. Was it really this easy? The biggest of his fears eliminated with a ray of hope? "You're serious?"
"Yes," she said. "I can understand the situation. It seems to me that it's better for your grandmother to try this serum before resorting to a procedure. I've had a lot of success with this, I swear on the Spirits—"
"Wohooo—!"
"Shh, shhhhh, calm down! Do you want the whole manor to hear you?"
"Sorry, sorry," he cleared his throat and straightened himself, quickly growing nervous again, "So, uh…how much is this serum gonna cost exactly…?"
"I don't charge anything."
"But you said your finances were tight," he pointed out in concern. "I can give you something out of my salary as soon as I get paid. Middle classies gotta help each other, right?"
Ignoring the hopeful look on his face, "That's not necessary."
"But—"
"I don't need your pity, Mr. Ingiullik. Please, let it go."
Swallowing, "It's not pity, I…" and he trailed off at her unamused look. "If you say so…"
"Meet me back here tomorrow morning to pick up the serum and the instructions."
Confused, "I thought I wasn't allowed here."
"You will be starting tomorrow."
"How do you know? Are you gonna put in a good word for me?"
"I don't need to," she said. "You will be escorted here tomorrow morning."
"Oh…well, okay…"
When they reached the arch entrance, Sokka found to his relief that the guards were not there yet. He was surprised to see her slip something out of the folds of her cloak, handing him a tiny vial.
"It helps with fatigue. One dose should be enough. You'll be up and running tomorrow."
"Oh…" he took the vial from her, bowing, "Thank you. That's very thoughtful of you, ma'am."
Pointing down the hallway, "Straight then left. You'll get to the exit. Now hurry."
Before she could leave, however, he blurted out a hectic, "Wait!" And as she frantically turned around, he conveyed with as much sincerity as he could in a matter of milliseconds, "I really don't know how to thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me, Miss… Miss…?"
She didn't say anything other than, "It's not a problem. Good night to you, Mr. Ingiullik."
He could only watch, caught in a stupor as she swung the hood of her cloak over her flawless hair and started walking back. Seconds later, he blurted out again, "Hey! Miss Tui!"
She paused, her eyebrows raised as she shot him a look that indicated, I told you not to yell. But he was a man freed of his biggest burden, and as such, he waved blissfully, wearing the biggest grin on his face, sauntering backward. "If there's anything I can do for you, just let me know—aagh!"
She gasped, wincing as he almost toppled over another bench, but he caught himself, laughing nervously, "I'm okay!"