Do my ears deceive me? Has Taqsame informed me that he’s convinced enough of the council to vote on attacking Qapauma? My talents for being a council member and politician might not be up to the same level as those with whom I serve, but to be outmatched by such a young warrior is disconcerting, to say the very least. That he was able to outmaneuver me behind the scenes with such ease is troubling, and it’s a defeat I can’t take.
“What treacherous game are you playing, Taqsame?” I ask, bewildered by his recent news.
His smug expression is all the answer I need. “Teqosa, I never would have known the issue concerned you so greatly! I’m honestly quite stunned to hear that you care. You seem so uninterested in matters of the Qantua—so much so you were galavanting around the continent with another council member.”
His barb amuses those present in his company, and they all have a laugh at my expense. Not taking the insult lying down, I say, “You can’t tell me you care for the well-being of Qantua. The amount of lives that will be lost for your senseless pursuits… You’re doing this for selfish reasons, solely to raise your status among the council, and you know it.”
“Perhaps next time,” he says, his words spoken with more bite, “if opposing me means this much to you, you’ll bother showing up for the council meetings, sir.”
The gaggle of men chuckle as they follow Taqsame out of the large chamber. Amaota has long since departed, and I’m left to stew in my thoughts. The sunlight filters through the windows, casting a warm glow over the large room. I gaze out, watching the play of light and shadow across the nearby courtyard. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this. I thought my years of experience, the scars on my body, and the tales of battles won would grant me respect among the council. I believed that my voice, forged in the fires of countless skirmishes and honed in the halls of the esteemed Maqanuiache, would carry weight.
Yet as the realization dawns on me, a cold shiver runs down my spine. I've been outmaneuvered, not on the battlefield, but in the arena of politics. By Taqsame. The upstart. The young warrior I had apparently underestimated. I had expected passion from him, a youthful desire to prove oneself, but not this. Not this ability to sway minds and manipulate the room. His words echo in my mind, “Perhaps next time, you’ll bother showing up for council meetings.”
I grit my teeth. The audacity of the boy to use my dedication to our people, my journeys to ensure our safety, against me. Yet I can't help but acknowledge the bitter truth in his words. While I've been traveling the land, battling threats and seeking truths, the true battle I’ve neglected to fight was here within our own walls. The political landscape has shifted, and I've been absent. Maybe I have taken too much for granted. Maybe I have rested on my laurels, thinking my past feats were enough to carry my voice. It was enough to earn me this position on the council, but my reputation and feats can only get me so far.
The game has changed. I realize that now. The council, which once revered experience and valor, now seems more receptive to youthful fervor and charismatic oration—even Amalqusi was easily swayed. Taqsame's gamble has placed him at an advantage. But should I be surprised? I've seen younger warriors, quicker and more agile, best their seniors. I’ve been that young warrior, at times. Perhaps the same rules apply here.
The lives of our people hang in the balance. I exhale, my breath slow and deliberate. I need to adapt, to understand this new battlefield, to anticipate its nuances and pitfalls. If this is the game Taqsame wants to play, then so be it. I've been underestimated before. I've faced insurmountable odds. And each time, I've learned, adapted, and overcome. The young warrior may have won this time, but the battle is far from over.
I bolt out of the main chamber of the Great Library, determination flooding my veins, as I’m prepared to rejoin Upachu and craft a plan. Taqsame may have lit the first spark, but he'll soon realize that fire can be a fickle friend. I've weathered storms fiercer than this boy's bluster. I've faced foes that would make most quake in their sandals. I've earned my place among our people. I've–
“Teqosa! By the stars in Pachil!”
Shaken from my thoughts, I realize I’m nearly clear of the large stone walls that surround the grounds of the Great Library, and I’m approached by three people, one of whom is faintly recognizable. The speaker of the outburst is a short, stocky man wearing a tunic in Tapeu’s orange and red colors. He seems of importance, with the checkered black and white patterns indicating he’s a heavily regarded warrior. I almost missed that it’s Sianchu, advisor to Achutli whose title is “The Shadow” for being a reminder of the Arbiter’s looming presence everywhere in Pachil.
Appearing to have traveled a long, tough journey to get to Hilaqta, he manages a warm smile and bends slightly at the waist for a subtle bow. If memory serves, the last I saw of Sianchu was just moments before I embarked on my return home, bearing the fresh orders from the Arbiter. My interactions with Sianchu have been brief, but cordial, in my time in Qapauma. His presence in Qantua is a bit alarming, however, and I’m curious as to why he’s here. Is this on official business for the Arbiter? Is he or Achutli checking on me to see that I’m making progress on what I’ve been commanded to seek?
“Sianchu,” I politely say, trying—but likely failing—to mask my surprise. “You’re a long way from Tapeu. What brings you to Hilaqta? Has the Arbiter sent you?” While I’m initially caught unprepared for his cheerful welcome, I don’t find it entirely off-putting; however, my suspicions remain on high alert.
I eye his two companions, who could not be further from him in appearance or demeanor. The man is an older gentleman, appearing to also be a warrior, though perhaps slightly older than myself. His shirt and pants of black and red—Ulxa colors?—cover his leathery skin, and his hair is tied back into a bun, much like the female associate with her raven-black hair. She is much younger, likely Taqsame’s age, emanating a presence both fierce and regal. She’s clad in the easily distinguishable Tuatiu colors of green and black, with bamboo armor plates across her shoulders and chest, accentuated by golden metal bands on her arms. An ornate bow is strapped to her back, and a quiver of arrows dangles at her side along with a sheathed dagger. Of the three, she presents herself as the more experienced combatant, her high cheekbones emphasizing the proud expression fixed on her face, piercing eyes as sharp as obsidian blades. Given the distinct factions that each of these three represents, I'm somewhat comforted in believing that the Arbiter does not, in fact, have a hand in this.
The smile remains on Sianchu’s face, though appearing more forced now, as he says, “Perhaps there is a place more private in which we could meet.” I watch his eyes dart about the guards and wandering workers of the Great Library who occasionally glance in our direction, likely wondering what members of the Tapeu, Ulxa, and Tuatiu factions are all doing together in Qantua. Although for different reasons, I’d like to leave this place just as much, so I invite them to my home not far from this towering centerpiece of the city. I can see the subtle relief in Sianchu’s expression as he waits for me to lead the way.
As we walk, I take sporadic glances at the ensemble that has gathered to meet me. My attention is particularly fixed on the young woman; there’s something familiar about her—about her stature, her appearance, the way she carries herself—that reminds me of something from not too long ago, though I can’t place my finger upon it just yet. I feel it in my bones that there’s a connection to this person, but I try not to stare and disturb my guest as I scrape my memory.
“Are you going to introduce me to your companions?” I ask, attempting to keep the conversation light while we travel out in public, since Sianchu seems to want to discuss what’s on his mind elsewhere.
He stutters and fumbles his words, eventually saying something coherent. “Mexqutli… and, erm, Inuxeq… We… met in Tuatiu. In Iantana. It–“
“Sianchu has told us a lot about you, Teqosa,” the man says. His dialect is jarringly stilted, something I briefly recall as an Ulxa trait. I never cared for the people, finding their customs and personalities to be bizarre and unsettling. They seemingly take pride in their air of mystery, deliberately limiting the information about themselves that reaches beyond their own borders, and encourage and play into the rumors formed about their people. Fortunately for me, they predominantly kept to themselves as we fought alongside one another, minimizing my interactions with them. With the war over, I never planned to visit their lands nor willfully encounter their people, yet here we are. He is polite enough, purposely walking in front of me as though to convey to me that he is not a threat—that I don’t have to fear him stabbing me in the back. Not physically, at least.
“Has he now,” I say, looking over to Sianchu for confirmation. He maintains his forward focus, appearing as a nervous, sweaty mess, somehow glistening in the cool Qantua air.
“Indeed,” the man says. “And that you are a student of the Maqanuiache academy. That is very respectable, sir. Your military prowess is much revered.”
Though it sounds as if the flattery is incredibly forced, I give the man the benefit of the doubt, considering his dialect may be impairing my interpretation of the intent behind his words. I nod, and we take a swift turn around the corner onto the last stretch of road before—mercifully—arriving at my home. I’m alerted to the cart placed in front of the building, and though its presence at my home is alarming, I have never been so eager to see the judgmental expression of the llama’s face.
“I suppose my reputation precedes me,” I say, “though I hope that’s a good thing.”
“As an Iqsuwa myself, I have very high respect for anyone who comes from the Maqanuiache,” he says. The other two remain silent, stoically walking behind the man and taking in the scenery. The Tuatiu woman looks to be fighting off the cold, discreetly shivering in the chilly Qantua air. I never realized how accustomed I’ve become to this weather, wearing only a tunic, and I immediately feel ashamed for having nothing to offer the young woman to keep her warm. I can only hope that the two men have done so and she has stubbornly refused, but I know this fantasy is concocted to make me feel better.
“You’re… Iqsuwa…” I say, more as a statement than a question, as though I hadn’t heard him correctly. “I’ve never known an Iqsuwa to be from Ulxa. I thought your people had… their own thing…”
“You may be thinking of our Tletlazotl,” he says self-assuredly, “the monks that serve at the monastery. It is a common misconception, I will grant you this. However, their purpose is to serve our god, Eztletiqa, and I must confess to you, I find their practice to be archaic.” It is not what I meant nor thought, and I’m well aware of the Ulxa monks and the ascetic life at their monastery. I look upon him—and his companions—with more suspicion than before, and remind myself to remain tight-lipped until I can expose their true intentions.
Greeted by the snorting llama, which causes Sianchu to jump, we reach my home. It feels it’s been an eternity since I’ve set foot inside this place, its interior as foreign to me as it will be for my guests. Though I shouldn’t be surprised due to the presence of the cart outside, I’m taken aback as I see Upachu resting on my bedroll in the back of the room, curled up and facing the wall. Our arrival startles him awake, causing him to shout something unintelligible—did he mention the chest?
“Oh, Teqosa,” he says groggily. “I didn’t expect your return. I just…” He pauses thoughtfully before conceding, “Ah, who am I kidding? I was tending to the llama and decided to visit your home, but then I decided when I arrived that I would take a nap, which turned into sleeping the entire morning away. I’m old!”
Upachu looks around, blinking heavily, and finally recognizes that I’ve brought company. After a few gurgles and coughs, he twists around and sits up on my bedroll, grunting as he adjusts his white robe to appear somewhat more presentable.
The three outsiders find spaces among my humble abode to sit, setting their weapons down beside them as they gather in a circle around the perimeter of my single-room home. Many in the council have much larger residences, either in the city or just outside in the hills of the countryside, yet I’ve kept this same home since before I departed for the Maqanuiache. My minimal accommodations are simple and not elaborate by any stretch. Plain, wooden cups and bowls. Plain, wooden plates and utensils. Plain, wooden tables and chairs. Even though I returned to Hilaqta many moon cycles ago, I haven’t taken the time to settle into my home, to decorate and make it feel lived-in.
Once initial introductions have concluded, the ones called “Inuxeq” and “Mexqutli” frequently glance at Sianchu, willing him to begin proceedings. The Ulxa “Iqsuwa” warrior looks particularly annoyed, and I get the sense that the two are only in each other’s presence due to the urgency and nature of what brings them into Qantua. This makes me rethink my initial impression that there may be some colluding taking place, though I still monitor each individual closely.
The young woman has had enough waiting, impatiently cutting off Sianchu as he stammers and struggles to find the words.
“Good sirs of the Qantua council,” she begins—though she is certainly forcing herself to be polite, there’s a certain woodenness, a lack of polish in her mannerisms that indicates to me that she is not a practiced, experienced politician or diplomat. “We have come to Hilaqta for an urgent matter that concerns not just the Qantua, but all of Pachil.”
While it appears Sianchu has finally found his voice, Inuxeq speaks over him, “We had initially hoped that there was a friendly relationship between you and Sianchu, but it is apparent there is nothing more between the two of you than professional courtesy. So I will begin by–“ Sianchu scoffs, but Inuxeq continues, “I will begin by discussing with you the great threat all of our people face.”
"And what threat might this be?" I inquire, anticipating yet another squabble among the nobles that has inadvertently ensnared the native factions of these three, leaving them to untangle the aftermath.
“It involves a fearsome cult whose presence looms over not just Tapeu, but all of our factions,” she says. A cult? Does she know about… How does she know about–
“This evil cult,” she continues, “has attempted to lay waste to my people’s village, Iantana, and they have reportedly threatened to destroy Qapauma and gain control of the throne for their purposes, which has been suggested to be the destruction of Ulxa.”
“It is not a suggestion,” the Ulxa man interrupts. “This is a truth that my leader, Tlexnín–“
“The cult,” she continues, now speaking over the Ulxa warrior, “is planning to control all of Pachil, and thus it is imperative that we ask you and your council for support in defeating the Eye in the Flame, the–“
“The Eye in the Flame,” Upachu and I say, almost in sync with Inuxeq. There is a long, tense pause as we all come to the realization that this threat, this evil, has loomed beyond our respective small areas of the continent. The pervasive presence of these agitators, disrupting the peace that we all strive to establish, is not just disconcerting but deeply troubling and ominous.
“You know of the Eye in the Flame?” we all ask one another in unison.
“I’m deeply sorry about what happened in Iantana,” Upachu begins, breaking another bout of silence and choosing his words with care. “Have you crossed paths with the Eye in the Flame on other occasions as well, or was that the first encounter?”
“We’ve had multiple encounters,” Inuxeq says. The other two men look disheartened at this, and I get the sense that this cult has been a persistent foe they have all been dealing with for quite some time. “Sianchu was traveling with a band of Tuatiu warriors when they were assaulted by the cult’s gray creatures. Mexqutli had encountered the gray creatures on his trek to Qapauma from An… Ana… The Ulxa capital.”
“Analoixan,” Mexqutli provides the city’s name.
“Gray creatures?” I ask, bewildered. “You mean the ones created by the Ulxa for the Timuaq?”
“Unfortunately, the ones created by the Eye in the Flame are far worse,” she says. “More intense, more fierce. More indestructible, as well. We’ve found that they can only be defeated with fire, a meticulously-placed slice to the throat, and anointed daggers possessed by Mexqutli. That was my experience with them when I fought the gray beasts.”
“We only encountered the zealots with flaming swords,” Upachu says, a little mystified.
“I regret to inform you that we have encountered such foes, as well,” Mexqutli says. “The enemy had an outpost on the border outside Tuatiu lands, in the mountains, where Inuxeq and I fought their leader, the Sunfire.”
“Judging by everyone’s cheerful disposition,” Upachu says, “we can assume this Sunfire is still alive?” The three nod somberly.
“However, I possess one of the cultist’s swords,” Inuxeq says, then retrieves the sheathed weapon. It appears to be a simple Ulxa sword, with the typical obsidian infused into the handle, and other than the occasional smears of dried blood upon its blade, it is not lavishly decorated. My initial impression would be that it’s a sword belonging to the Ulxa warrior.
“You can see here,” she says, pointing at the hilt, “that there are markings including that of the Eye in the Flame. And there’s a residue on the blade,” she points her finger around the blood stains to draw my attention to a peculiar sheen on the weapon, “as though they use some oil or ointment to achieve the fire effect. This could be provided as evidence of the cult’s existence.”
“This is very good, Inuxeq,” Upachu praises. “Mere words were unlikely to succeed, but this should certainly prove our point.”
“Is there information that they have attacked anywhere else?” I ask. “Any others from elsewhere who could validate our claim?”
“Sianchu was given orders from the Arbiter under the impression the Ulxa were plotting to depose him,” Inuxeq says. “There’s a working theory–“
“A theory,” Sianchu emphasizes, looking directly at Mexqutli. This only confirms my impression regarding their dynamics—something I will bear in mind when discussing this matter with Upachu later.
“A theory,” Inuxeq continues, “that it may be a case of mistaken identity, that the people plotting the coup are this cult, who so happen to be of Ulxa origin.”
“Many of those involved bear resemblance to our monks, the Tletlazotl,” Mexqutli says. “There is a strong likelihood that these cultists are Ulxa defectors.” Sianchu grumbles something incoherent, but the other two ignore him, for the time being.
Grasping the entirety of the matter proves to be a challenging endeavor. It’s difficult for me to make sense of what the Ulxa man is doing here, being so far from his homeland. The Iqsuwa are respectable warriors, but his claim in being one still unnerves me. And though it could be a prejudice of mine, having never known the Ulxa to partake in becoming an Iqsuwa, I’m unable to discern his trustworthiness at this time.
The same can be said of the Tapeu leader and Shadow for the Arbiter, Sianchu. His presence here tells me that the matter must be of great concern to Achutli, as Sianchu never seemed to be the type of person who would act against his ruler’s wishes. Yet he is still a warrior in the political arena, as well. How much of his involvement is based on genuine concern, and how much is guided by political motives? What is he getting out of this matter?
The young Tuatiu warrior impresses me, with the palpable dedication to her people’s well-being. Of the three, I would easily trust her the most, speaking with conviction and determination. While I still view the others skeptically, and I must keep her possible youthful naïvety in mind as I assess the situation, her urgency more than makes up for the lack of polish in her mannerisms and demeanor.
“What was your engagement with this enemy?” Inuxeq asks. “You also had flaming swords to deal with, you have mentioned.”
I knew it would be a matter of time before Upachu and I were asked about our dealings with the Eye in the Flame, yet I’m still hesitant in revealing anything at this time. I need to quickly think about whether these people can be trusted, and evaluate this situation—especially before Upachu unwittingly divulges privileged information.
This news of the cult and their existence throughout Pachil could be the counterargument I need to stand up against Taqsame's push for needlessly attacking Qapauma. The protection of countless innocent lives sent on a fool’s errand to the Tapeu capital is of a high priority. But if I’m to be realistic, I must also be wary. Can this information be trusted? Are these three planted by Taqsame or another foe to make me appear incompetent?
The sudden appearance of these three, while unexpected, is not entirely without precedence. The manner in which they have approached me, so urgently and directly, gives me the impression that their concerns are genuine. The fact that three people from entirely different factions with such varying degrees of experience sounds alarms in my had that this matter is grave. This cult’s influence must be more far-reaching than Upachu and I were made to think after our skirmish at the Temple of the Titans.
With that decided, what do I reveal of the glyphs on the papyrus? A young and earnest warrior, a military advisor of great importance, and a warrior of the legendary Iqsuwacould all be useful allies in my quest for deciphering the mysterious glyphs. However, Sianchu is an advisor to Achutli, the person who gave me orders to find such artifacts and return them to him. Upachu and I still have not concluded what we believe the Arbiter’s intentions to be. This seems like a prime opportunity for one of his advisors to report back with the news, which could put not only Upachu and myself in harm’s way, but all of Qantua, as well. The possibility of hindering the progress of our quest must be considered. At this time, there’s no way for me to determine if any of these three have ulterior motives, so I must keep that information to myself, for now.
“The cultists attacked our esteemed Temple of the Titans,” I eventually decide to answer, “and attempted to destroy the information contained within. It was fortunate that Upachu and I were there, allowing us to assist in defending the temple.”
“What brought you to the temple, if I may inquire?” Mexqutli asks.
“The Arbiter gave me orders to retrieve information from our Great Library and deliver it to Qapauma,” I say, “but Upachu recalled quipus stored at the temple, as well. We had decided to check if anything usable was there, and the temple was attacked when we arrived.”
I figure a partial truth is the best path forward, the best response I can give. Sianchu will know of any orders given by the Arbiter and can confirm the plausibility of my statement. The three appear convinced and accept my response, much to my relief.
“With the threat of the Eye in the Flame now known,” Sianchu says, “do you believe Qantua can provide the warriors necessary to mount an attack against this evil?”
As if to read my mind regarding the questions I was about to ask, Inuxeq jumps in, saying, “Tuatiu suffered a great number of losses in the assault we faced. We are rebuilding our forces at this time, as well as reconstructing Iantana and its defenses. My people may still provide a few available warriors to the cause, however we wouldn’t be able to attack with the desired numbers and would require the help of your people.”
“This will be a significant ask,” I begin, “and the council has begun prioritizing what I consider to be a misguided endeavor.” At this, Upachu’s interest is piqued, although I’ll have to share this with him once these visitors depart. “The possibility of the loss of life matters greatly to me, and I don’t want to needlessly send men to their deaths, if it is at all avoidable. However, realizing and experiencing what is apparently only a minuscule amount of the power this evil wields, I know that this matter should take precedence over all else the council must deliberate. Upachu and I will speak to them at once, and from there, we can determine the best course of action, as well as the resources Qantua can provide.”
The trio look relieved at this, their shoulders becoming more relaxed. I find this intriguing, adding one more subtle means of confirming how genuine their request is and the truth of their statements.
“Are you staying in Hilaqta long?” Upachu asks. “I should be able to provide some space at my home for any travelers.”
“I am grateful for your offer,” Sianchu says, puffing out his chest a bit, “but I will speak to the people at the Great Library and request use of the home that is reserved for the Arbiter during his travels here. I should take advantage of the Arbiter’s accommodations as much as I can, while I can.” He says the last part with a wink and a smirk, to which Upachu graciously indulges with a polite laugh.
“The council is to meet in the morning,” I announce. “We can meet outside the chambers and plan to discuss the matter with them. It’s going to take all of us to convince them of the existence of this cult, that is for certain. Until then, get some well-deserved rest, and…” I sigh deeply in relief—not just in now possessing the weapon I need to defeat Taqsame, but also that Upachu and I are no longer dealing with this threat alone, “thank you, for approaching me with this news. While I wish the circumstances were more pleasant, I am grateful for your time.”
“We’re grateful for your lent ear,” Inuxeq says. “You can’t imagine how much I dreaded having to speak about cults with supernatural abilities!”
“It is something the average person would believe to be fabricated, that much is certain,” Upachu says.
The three outsiders leave my home, and once they are out of earshot, Upachu turns to me with a look of great urgency.
“What ‘misguided endeavor’ is the council considering, Teqosa?” Upachu asks in a demanding tone. “What did I miss?”
With a sigh, I say, “Taqsame has managed to convince enough of the council to vote on attacking Qapauma and claiming the throne in the name of the Qantua. There are warring rebel cells within the city, and the Arbiter has threatened to withhold resources until his demands of the Qantua have been fulfilled. So, the youthful warrior–“
“The naïve moron,” Upachu interrupts with a grumble.
“… has determined that we should strike,” I complete my thought.
“So, you plan on informing the council of the Eye in the Flame to prevent them from doing something foolish, I see,” he says, and I nod.
I respond, “It’s likely the only way, though I fear how effective it will be.”
Upachu nods thoughtfully, seemingly running the possible scenarios through his mind to determine the best course of action in which we can achieve our desired results. After mulling it over for a bit, his voice is calm as he eventually says, “Teqosa, your fear is valid. But remember, sometimes fear can be a guiding light, not just a shadow to avoid. You have a rare opportunity to steer the council towards a path that could not only prevent a disastrous war, but also unite us against a common enemy that hides in the darkness. Your voice has weight, and your experiences with this cult give you an insight that none in the council possess. It's not just about preventing one misguided action; it's about opening their eyes to the larger threat looming over Pachil."
I nod slowly, absorbing his words. "I just hope they listen, Upachu. I've seen too much loss already. The idea of more senseless deaths..."
He places a comforting hand on my shoulder. "You have the power to change that course, my friend. Speak from the heart tomorrow. Let them see the Teqosa who has fought not for glory, but for the safety and future of our people. You've always been one to act for the greater good. This is no different."
A sense of resolve settles over me, steadying my nerves. "You're right. I'll do what I must. For Qantua, for Pachil."
As Upachu heads back to his residence with the llama and cart, I'm left alone with my thoughts in the stillness and quiet of the room. The weight of the coming day presses down on me, yet there's a flicker of hope. If I can sway the council, perhaps we can face the true enemy together. It's a chance I have to take, for the sake of everyone on this land we call home.
Do my ears deceive me? Has Taqsame informed me that he’s convinced enough of the council to vote on attacking Qapauma? My talents for being a council member and politician might not be up to the same level as those with whom I serve, but to be outmatched by such a young warrior is disconcerting, to say the very least. That he was able to outmaneuver me behind the scenes with such ease is troubling, and it’s a defeat I can’t take.
“What treacherous game are you playing, Taqsame?” I ask, bewildered by his recent news.
His smug expression is all the answer I need. “Teqosa, I never would have known the issue concerned you so greatly! I’m honestly quite stunned to hear that you care. You seem so uninterested in matters of the Qantua—so much so you were galavanting around the continent with another council member.”
His barb amuses those present in his company, and they all have a laugh at my expense. Not taking the insult lying down, I say, “You can’t tell me you care for the well-being of Qantua. The amount of lives that will be lost for your senseless pursuits… You’re doing this for selfish reasons, solely to raise your status among the council, and you know it.”
“Perhaps next time,” he says, his words spoken with more bite, “if opposing me means this much to you, you’ll bother showing up for the council meetings, sir.”
The gaggle of men chuckle as they follow Taqsame out of the large chamber. Amaota has long since departed, and I’m left to stew in my thoughts. The sunlight filters through the windows, casting a warm glow over the large room. I gaze out, watching the play of light and shadow across the nearby courtyard. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this. I thought my years of experience, the scars on my body, and the tales of battles won would grant me respect among the council. I believed that my voice, forged in the fires of countless skirmishes and honed in the halls of the esteemed Maqanuiache, would carry weight.
Yet as the realization dawns on me, a cold shiver runs down my spine. I've been outmaneuvered, not on the battlefield, but in the arena of politics. By Taqsame. The upstart. The young warrior I had apparently underestimated. I had expected passion from him, a youthful desire to prove oneself, but not this. Not this ability to sway minds and manipulate the room. His words echo in my mind, “Perhaps next time, you’ll bother showing up for council meetings.”
I grit my teeth. The audacity of the boy to use my dedication to our people, my journeys to ensure our safety, against me. Yet I can't help but acknowledge the bitter truth in his words. While I've been traveling the land, battling threats and seeking truths, the true battle I’ve neglected to fight was here within our own walls. The political landscape has shifted, and I've been absent. Maybe I have taken too much for granted. Maybe I have rested on my laurels, thinking my past feats were enough to carry my voice. It was enough to earn me this position on the council, but my reputation and feats can only get me so far.
The game has changed. I realize that now. The council, which once revered experience and valor, now seems more receptive to youthful fervor and charismatic oration—even Amalqusi was easily swayed. Taqsame's gamble has placed him at an advantage. But should I be surprised? I've seen younger warriors, quicker and more agile, best their seniors. I’ve been that young warrior, at times. Perhaps the same rules apply here.
The lives of our people hang in the balance. I exhale, my breath slow and deliberate. I need to adapt, to understand this new battlefield, to anticipate its nuances and pitfalls. If this is the game Taqsame wants to play, then so be it. I've been underestimated before. I've faced insurmountable odds. And each time, I've learned, adapted, and overcome. The young warrior may have won this time, but the battle is far from over.
I bolt out of the main chamber of the Great Library, determination flooding my veins, as I’m prepared to rejoin Upachu and craft a plan. Taqsame may have lit the first spark, but he'll soon realize that fire can be a fickle friend. I've weathered storms fiercer than this boy's bluster. I've faced foes that would make most quake in their sandals. I've earned my place among our people. I've–
“Teqosa! By the stars in Pachil!”
Shaken from my thoughts, I realize I’m nearly clear of the large stone walls that surround the grounds of the Great Library, and I’m approached by three people, one of whom is faintly recognizable. The speaker of the outburst is a short, stocky man wearing a tunic in Tapeu’s orange and red colors. He seems of importance, with the checkered black and white patterns indicating he’s a heavily regarded warrior. I almost missed that it’s Sianchu, advisor to Achutli whose title is “The Shadow” for being a reminder of the Arbiter’s looming presence everywhere in Pachil.
Appearing to have traveled a long, tough journey to get to Hilaqta, he manages a warm smile and bends slightly at the waist for a subtle bow. If memory serves, the last I saw of Sianchu was just moments before I embarked on my return home, bearing the fresh orders from the Arbiter. My interactions with Sianchu have been brief, but cordial, in my time in Qapauma. His presence in Qantua is a bit alarming, however, and I’m curious as to why he’s here. Is this on official business for the Arbiter? Is he or Achutli checking on me to see that I’m making progress on what I’ve been commanded to seek?
“Sianchu,” I politely say, trying—but likely failing—to mask my surprise. “You’re a long way from Tapeu. What brings you to Hilaqta? Has the Arbiter sent you?” While I’m initially caught unprepared for his cheerful welcome, I don’t find it entirely off-putting; however, my suspicions remain on high alert.
I eye his two companions, who could not be further from him in appearance or demeanor. The man is an older gentleman, appearing to also be a warrior, though perhaps slightly older than myself. His shirt and pants of black and red—Ulxa colors?—cover his leathery skin, and his hair is tied back into a bun, much like the female associate with her raven-black hair. She is much younger, likely Taqsame’s age, emanating a presence both fierce and regal. She’s clad in the easily distinguishable Tuatiu colors of green and black, with bamboo armor plates across her shoulders and chest, accentuated by golden metal bands on her arms. An ornate bow is strapped to her back, and a quiver of arrows dangles at her side along with a sheathed dagger. Of the three, she presents herself as the more experienced combatant, her high cheekbones emphasizing the proud expression fixed on her face, piercing eyes as sharp as obsidian blades. Given the distinct factions that each of these three represents, I'm somewhat comforted in believing that the Arbiter does not, in fact, have a hand in this.
The smile remains on Sianchu’s face, though appearing more forced now, as he says, “Perhaps there is a place more private in which we could meet.” I watch his eyes dart about the guards and wandering workers of the Great Library who occasionally glance in our direction, likely wondering what members of the Tapeu, Ulxa, and Tuatiu factions are all doing together in Qantua. Although for different reasons, I’d like to leave this place just as much, so I invite them to my home not far from this towering centerpiece of the city. I can see the subtle relief in Sianchu’s expression as he waits for me to lead the way.
As we walk, I take sporadic glances at the ensemble that has gathered to meet me. My attention is particularly fixed on the young woman; there’s something familiar about her—about her stature, her appearance, the way she carries herself—that reminds me of something from not too long ago, though I can’t place my finger upon it just yet. I feel it in my bones that there’s a connection to this person, but I try not to stare and disturb my guest as I scrape my memory.
“Are you going to introduce me to your companions?” I ask, attempting to keep the conversation light while we travel out in public, since Sianchu seems to want to discuss what’s on his mind elsewhere.
He stutters and fumbles his words, eventually saying something coherent. “Mexqutli… and, erm, Inuxeq… We… met in Tuatiu. In Iantana. It–“
“Sianchu has told us a lot about you, Teqosa,” the man says. His dialect is jarringly stilted, something I briefly recall as an Ulxa trait. I never cared for the people, finding their customs and personalities to be bizarre and unsettling. They seemingly take pride in their air of mystery, deliberately limiting the information about themselves that reaches beyond their own borders, and encourage and play into the rumors formed about their people. Fortunately for me, they predominantly kept to themselves as we fought alongside one another, minimizing my interactions with them. With the war over, I never planned to visit their lands nor willfully encounter their people, yet here we are. He is polite enough, purposely walking in front of me as though to convey to me that he is not a threat—that I don’t have to fear him stabbing me in the back. Not physically, at least.
“Has he now,” I say, looking over to Sianchu for confirmation. He maintains his forward focus, appearing as a nervous, sweaty mess, somehow glistening in the cool Qantua air.
“Indeed,” the man says. “And that you are a student of the Maqanuiache academy. That is very respectable, sir. Your military prowess is much revered.”
Though it sounds as if the flattery is incredibly forced, I give the man the benefit of the doubt, considering his dialect may be impairing my interpretation of the intent behind his words. I nod, and we take a swift turn around the corner onto the last stretch of road before—mercifully—arriving at my home. I’m alerted to the cart placed in front of the building, and though its presence at my home is alarming, I have never been so eager to see the judgmental expression of the llama’s face.
“I suppose my reputation precedes me,” I say, “though I hope that’s a good thing.”
“As an Iqsuwa myself, I have very high respect for anyone who comes from the Maqanuiache,” he says. The other two remain silent, stoically walking behind the man and taking in the scenery. The Tuatiu woman looks to be fighting off the cold, discreetly shivering in the chilly Qantua air. I never realized how accustomed I’ve become to this weather, wearing only a tunic, and I immediately feel ashamed for having nothing to offer the young woman to keep her warm. I can only hope that the two men have done so and she has stubbornly refused, but I know this fantasy is concocted to make me feel better.
“You’re… Iqsuwa…” I say, more as a statement than a question, as though I hadn’t heard him correctly. “I’ve never known an Iqsuwa to be from Ulxa. I thought your people had… their own thing…”
“You may be thinking of our Tletlazotl,” he says self-assuredly, “the monks that serve at the monastery. It is a common misconception, I will grant you this. However, their purpose is to serve our god, Eztletiqa, and I must confess to you, I find their practice to be archaic.” It is not what I meant nor thought, and I’m well aware of the Ulxa monks and the ascetic life at their monastery. I look upon him—and his companions—with more suspicion than before, and remind myself to remain tight-lipped until I can expose their true intentions.
Greeted by the snorting llama, which causes Sianchu to jump, we reach my home. It feels it’s been an eternity since I’ve set foot inside this place, its interior as foreign to me as it will be for my guests. Though I shouldn’t be surprised due to the presence of the cart outside, I’m taken aback as I see Upachu resting on my bedroll in the back of the room, curled up and facing the wall. Our arrival startles him awake, causing him to shout something unintelligible—did he mention the chest?
“Oh, Teqosa,” he says groggily. “I didn’t expect your return. I just…” He pauses thoughtfully before conceding, “Ah, who am I kidding? I was tending to the llama and decided to visit your home, but then I decided when I arrived that I would take a nap, which turned into sleeping the entire morning away. I’m old!”
Upachu looks around, blinking heavily, and finally recognizes that I’ve brought company. After a few gurgles and coughs, he twists around and sits up on my bedroll, grunting as he adjusts his white robe to appear somewhat more presentable.
The three outsiders find spaces among my humble abode to sit, setting their weapons down beside them as they gather in a circle around the perimeter of my single-room home. Many in the council have much larger residences, either in the city or just outside in the hills of the countryside, yet I’ve kept this same home since before I departed for the Maqanuiache. My minimal accommodations are simple and not elaborate by any stretch. Plain, wooden cups and bowls. Plain, wooden plates and utensils. Plain, wooden tables and chairs. Even though I returned to Hilaqta many moon cycles ago, I haven’t taken the time to settle into my home, to decorate and make it feel lived-in.
Once initial introductions have concluded, the ones called “Inuxeq” and “Mexqutli” frequently glance at Sianchu, willing him to begin proceedings. The Ulxa “Iqsuwa” warrior looks particularly annoyed, and I get the sense that the two are only in each other’s presence due to the urgency and nature of what brings them into Qantua. This makes me rethink my initial impression that there may be some colluding taking place, though I still monitor each individual closely.
The young woman has had enough waiting, impatiently cutting off Sianchu as he stammers and struggles to find the words.
“Good sirs of the Qantua council,” she begins—though she is certainly forcing herself to be polite, there’s a certain woodenness, a lack of polish in her mannerisms that indicates to me that she is not a practiced, experienced politician or diplomat. “We have come to Hilaqta for an urgent matter that concerns not just the Qantua, but all of Pachil.”
While it appears Sianchu has finally found his voice, Inuxeq speaks over him, “We had initially hoped that there was a friendly relationship between you and Sianchu, but it is apparent there is nothing more between the two of you than professional courtesy. So I will begin by–“ Sianchu scoffs, but Inuxeq continues, “I will begin by discussing with you the great threat all of our people face.”
"And what threat might this be?" I inquire, anticipating yet another squabble among the nobles that has inadvertently ensnared the native factions of these three, leaving them to untangle the aftermath.
“It involves a fearsome cult whose presence looms over not just Tapeu, but all of our factions,” she says. A cult? Does she know about… How does she know about–
“This evil cult,” she continues, “has attempted to lay waste to my people’s village, Iantana, and they have reportedly threatened to destroy Qapauma and gain control of the throne for their purposes, which has been suggested to be the destruction of Ulxa.”
“It is not a suggestion,” the Ulxa man interrupts. “This is a truth that my leader, Tlexnín–“
“The cult,” she continues, now speaking over the Ulxa warrior, “is planning to control all of Pachil, and thus it is imperative that we ask you and your council for support in defeating the Eye in the Flame, the–“
“The Eye in the Flame,” Upachu and I say, almost in sync with Inuxeq. There is a long, tense pause as we all come to the realization that this threat, this evil, has loomed beyond our respective small areas of the continent. The pervasive presence of these agitators, disrupting the peace that we all strive to establish, is not just disconcerting but deeply troubling and ominous.
“You know of the Eye in the Flame?” we all ask one another in unison.
“I’m deeply sorry about what happened in Iantana,” Upachu begins, breaking another bout of silence and choosing his words with care. “Have you crossed paths with the Eye in the Flame on other occasions as well, or was that the first encounter?”
“We’ve had multiple encounters,” Inuxeq says. The other two men look disheartened at this, and I get the sense that this cult has been a persistent foe they have all been dealing with for quite some time. “Sianchu was traveling with a band of Tuatiu warriors when they were assaulted by the cult’s gray creatures. Mexqutli had encountered the gray creatures on his trek to Qapauma from An… Ana… The Ulxa capital.”
“Analoixan,” Mexqutli provides the city’s name.
“Gray creatures?” I ask, bewildered. “You mean the ones created by the Ulxa for the Timuaq?”
“Unfortunately, the ones created by the Eye in the Flame are far worse,” she says. “More intense, more fierce. More indestructible, as well. We’ve found that they can only be defeated with fire, a meticulously-placed slice to the throat, and anointed daggers possessed by Mexqutli. That was my experience with them when I fought the gray beasts.”
“We only encountered the zealots with flaming swords,” Upachu says, a little mystified.
“I regret to inform you that we have encountered such foes, as well,” Mexqutli says. “The enemy had an outpost on the border outside Tuatiu lands, in the mountains, where Inuxeq and I fought their leader, the Sunfire.”
“Judging by everyone’s cheerful disposition,” Upachu says, “we can assume this Sunfire is still alive?” The three nod somberly.
“However, I possess one of the cultist’s swords,” Inuxeq says, then retrieves the sheathed weapon. It appears to be a simple Ulxa sword, with the typical obsidian infused into the handle, and other than the occasional smears of dried blood upon its blade, it is not lavishly decorated. My initial impression would be that it’s a sword belonging to the Ulxa warrior.
“You can see here,” she says, pointing at the hilt, “that there are markings including that of the Eye in the Flame. And there’s a residue on the blade,” she points her finger around the blood stains to draw my attention to a peculiar sheen on the weapon, “as though they use some oil or ointment to achieve the fire effect. This could be provided as evidence of the cult’s existence.”
“This is very good, Inuxeq,” Upachu praises. “Mere words were unlikely to succeed, but this should certainly prove our point.”
“Is there information that they have attacked anywhere else?” I ask. “Any others from elsewhere who could validate our claim?”
“Sianchu was given orders from the Arbiter under the impression the Ulxa were plotting to depose him,” Inuxeq says. “There’s a working theory–“
“A theory,” Sianchu emphasizes, looking directly at Mexqutli. This only confirms my impression regarding their dynamics—something I will bear in mind when discussing this matter with Upachu later.
“A theory,” Inuxeq continues, “that it may be a case of mistaken identity, that the people plotting the coup are this cult, who so happen to be of Ulxa origin.”
“Many of those involved bear resemblance to our monks, the Tletlazotl,” Mexqutli says. “There is a strong likelihood that these cultists are Ulxa defectors.” Sianchu grumbles something incoherent, but the other two ignore him, for the time being.
Grasping the entirety of the matter proves to be a challenging endeavor. It’s difficult for me to make sense of what the Ulxa man is doing here, being so far from his homeland. The Iqsuwa are respectable warriors, but his claim in being one still unnerves me. And though it could be a prejudice of mine, having never known the Ulxa to partake in becoming an Iqsuwa, I’m unable to discern his trustworthiness at this time.
The same can be said of the Tapeu leader and Shadow for the Arbiter, Sianchu. His presence here tells me that the matter must be of great concern to Achutli, as Sianchu never seemed to be the type of person who would act against his ruler’s wishes. Yet he is still a warrior in the political arena, as well. How much of his involvement is based on genuine concern, and how much is guided by political motives? What is he getting out of this matter?
The young Tuatiu warrior impresses me, with the palpable dedication to her people’s well-being. Of the three, I would easily trust her the most, speaking with conviction and determination. While I still view the others skeptically, and I must keep her possible youthful naïvety in mind as I assess the situation, her urgency more than makes up for the lack of polish in her mannerisms and demeanor.
“What was your engagement with this enemy?” Inuxeq asks. “You also had flaming swords to deal with, you have mentioned.”
I knew it would be a matter of time before Upachu and I were asked about our dealings with the Eye in the Flame, yet I’m still hesitant in revealing anything at this time. I need to quickly think about whether these people can be trusted, and evaluate this situation—especially before Upachu unwittingly divulges privileged information.
This news of the cult and their existence throughout Pachil could be the counterargument I need to stand up against Taqsame's push for needlessly attacking Qapauma. The protection of countless innocent lives sent on a fool’s errand to the Tapeu capital is of a high priority. But if I’m to be realistic, I must also be wary. Can this information be trusted? Are these three planted by Taqsame or another foe to make me appear incompetent?
The sudden appearance of these three, while unexpected, is not entirely without precedence. The manner in which they have approached me, so urgently and directly, gives me the impression that their concerns are genuine. The fact that three people from entirely different factions with such varying degrees of experience sounds alarms in my had that this matter is grave. This cult’s influence must be more far-reaching than Upachu and I were made to think after our skirmish at the Temple of the Titans.
With that decided, what do I reveal of the glyphs on the papyrus? A young and earnest warrior, a military advisor of great importance, and a warrior of the legendary Iqsuwacould all be useful allies in my quest for deciphering the mysterious glyphs. However, Sianchu is an advisor to Achutli, the person who gave me orders to find such artifacts and return them to him. Upachu and I still have not concluded what we believe the Arbiter’s intentions to be. This seems like a prime opportunity for one of his advisors to report back with the news, which could put not only Upachu and myself in harm’s way, but all of Qantua, as well. The possibility of hindering the progress of our quest must be considered. At this time, there’s no way for me to determine if any of these three have ulterior motives, so I must keep that information to myself, for now.
“The cultists attacked our esteemed Temple of the Titans,” I eventually decide to answer, “and attempted to destroy the information contained within. It was fortunate that Upachu and I were there, allowing us to assist in defending the temple.”
“What brought you to the temple, if I may inquire?” Mexqutli asks.
“The Arbiter gave me orders to retrieve information from our Great Library and deliver it to Qapauma,” I say, “but Upachu recalled quipus stored at the temple, as well. We had decided to check if anything usable was there, and the temple was attacked when we arrived.”
I figure a partial truth is the best path forward, the best response I can give. Sianchu will know of any orders given by the Arbiter and can confirm the plausibility of my statement. The three appear convinced and accept my response, much to my relief.
“With the threat of the Eye in the Flame now known,” Sianchu says, “do you believe Qantua can provide the warriors necessary to mount an attack against this evil?”
As if to read my mind regarding the questions I was about to ask, Inuxeq jumps in, saying, “Tuatiu suffered a great number of losses in the assault we faced. We are rebuilding our forces at this time, as well as reconstructing Iantana and its defenses. My people may still provide a few available warriors to the cause, however we wouldn’t be able to attack with the desired numbers and would require the help of your people.”
“This will be a significant ask,” I begin, “and the council has begun prioritizing what I consider to be a misguided endeavor.” At this, Upachu’s interest is piqued, although I’ll have to share this with him once these visitors depart. “The possibility of the loss of life matters greatly to me, and I don’t want to needlessly send men to their deaths, if it is at all avoidable. However, realizing and experiencing what is apparently only a minuscule amount of the power this evil wields, I know that this matter should take precedence over all else the council must deliberate. Upachu and I will speak to them at once, and from there, we can determine the best course of action, as well as the resources Qantua can provide.”
The trio look relieved at this, their shoulders becoming more relaxed. I find this intriguing, adding one more subtle means of confirming how genuine their request is and the truth of their statements.
“Are you staying in Hilaqta long?” Upachu asks. “I should be able to provide some space at my home for any travelers.”
“I am grateful for your offer,” Sianchu says, puffing out his chest a bit, “but I will speak to the people at the Great Library and request use of the home that is reserved for the Arbiter during his travels here. I should take advantage of the Arbiter’s accommodations as much as I can, while I can.” He says the last part with a wink and a smirk, to which Upachu graciously indulges with a polite laugh.
“The council is to meet in the morning,” I announce. “We can meet outside the chambers and plan to discuss the matter with them. It’s going to take all of us to convince them of the existence of this cult, that is for certain. Until then, get some well-deserved rest, and…” I sigh deeply in relief—not just in now possessing the weapon I need to defeat Taqsame, but also that Upachu and I are no longer dealing with this threat alone, “thank you, for approaching me with this news. While I wish the circumstances were more pleasant, I am grateful for your time.”
“We’re grateful for your lent ear,” Inuxeq says. “You can’t imagine how much I dreaded having to speak about cults with supernatural abilities!”
“It is something the average person would believe to be fabricated, that much is certain,” Upachu says.
The three outsiders leave my home, and once they are out of earshot, Upachu turns to me with a look of great urgency.
“What ‘misguided endeavor’ is the council considering, Teqosa?” Upachu asks in a demanding tone. “What did I miss?”
With a sigh, I say, “Taqsame has managed to convince enough of the council to vote on attacking Qapauma and claiming the throne in the name of the Qantua. There are warring rebel cells within the city, and the Arbiter has threatened to withhold resources until his demands of the Qantua have been fulfilled. So, the youthful warrior–“
“The naïve moron,” Upachu interrupts with a grumble.
“… has determined that we should strike,” I complete my thought.
“So, you plan on informing the council of the Eye in the Flame to prevent them from doing something foolish, I see,” he says, and I nod.
I respond, “It’s likely the only way, though I fear how effective it will be.”
Upachu nods thoughtfully, seemingly running the possible scenarios through his mind to determine the best course of action in which we can achieve our desired results. After mulling it over for a bit, his voice is calm as he eventually says, “Teqosa, your fear is valid. But remember, sometimes fear can be a guiding light, not just a shadow to avoid. You have a rare opportunity to steer the council towards a path that could not only prevent a disastrous war, but also unite us against a common enemy that hides in the darkness. Your voice has weight, and your experiences with this cult give you an insight that none in the council possess. It's not just about preventing one misguided action; it's about opening their eyes to the larger threat looming over Pachil."
I nod slowly, absorbing his words. "I just hope they listen, Upachu. I've seen too much loss already. The idea of more senseless deaths..."
He places a comforting hand on my shoulder. "You have the power to change that course, my friend. Speak from the heart tomorrow. Let them see the Teqosa who has fought not for glory, but for the safety and future of our people. You've always been one to act for the greater good. This is no different."
A sense of resolve settles over me, steadying my nerves. "You're right. I'll do what I must. For Qantua, for Pachil."
As Upachu heads back to his residence with the llama and cart, I'm left alone with my thoughts in the stillness and quiet of the room. The weight of the coming day presses down on me, yet there's a flicker of hope. If I can sway the council, perhaps we can face the true enemy together. It's a chance I have to take, for the sake of everyone on this land we call home.
