“How are you feeling this morning?”
Upachu’s seemingly innocuous inquiry is simple, yet it hints at the daunting task that lays before me. My sleep the night before was restless, as I tossed and turned thinking about what I must present before the council. How will they receive the news? Will it be enough to dissuade them from needlessly attacking Qapauma? Will they comprehend the looming threat of the Eye in the Flame, or will they view me as a mad man?
I sigh and frown, “As good as one can feel before talking about cultists with flaming swords and supernatural beasts.”
“It will most certainly sound like you’re telling fables,” Upachu says. “We can hope that having four witnesses to the might of the Eye in the Flame will support your statement.”
“If Taqsame has as much sway over the council as he claims to have, it will be a contentious, challenging feat to accomplish,” I say.
“It will not be the most enjoyable experience at the council chambers,” Upachu says, unreassuringly.
“Add to this that I am a terrible speaker,” I mention. “Are you certain you shouldn’t be speaking instead?”
“While I have the status as an elder, having one military tactician speak against another will hold greater leverage, I think,” he says. “I believe having a Maqanuiache graduate would influence the other military-minded council members, especially when competing with Taqsame for their minds and their hearts, don’t you agree?”
I only respond with a deepened frown. If it’s a matter of tactics, I could take on Taqsame handily. However, in a war of words, I’m not certain I can hold up to the challenge. Taqsame has proven to be a cunning and manipulative foe in the political arena, where he seems poised to ingratiate himself more. While the Qantua have not allowed themselves to be ruled by a single person, he could gain enough favor to be highly influential for the duration of his career in the council. It’s a grave concern if his response to any ailing ally is to exploit the weakness and attack.
“Besides,” Upachu continues, “you will not be alone in this fight. You have my support, as well as that of the outsiders—one of whom is the Arbiter’s Shadow, need I remind you. That holds gravitas over anything the young Taqsame attempts to instigate.”
“The Arbiter whom Taqsame has projected as weak,” I now remind Upachu. “His sole argument is that Achutli cannot control his own people, questioning why he should be allowed to hold any power over the other factions as a result. Having Sianchu speak may appear as an effort to distract and divert attention away from the issues plaguing Tapeu.”
“See!” Upachu says. “A tactical thinker! This is why we need you!”
Although he’s well-meaning, it’s a struggle for me to appreciate Upachu’s sentiments when so much is at stake. I am a warrior, built to fight with my glaive, not my words. I fear that anything I say will be inadequate and insufficient to convince the council of the actual threat, to not be opportunists and potentially ruin our diplomatic standing among the other factions in Pachil.
“Whatever you’re thinking inside that head of yours,” Upachu says, distracting me from my thoughts, “use that when speaking to the council. I see you deep in concentration and focus. You’ve got that look, that long distance stare, that is formulating a plan, the best approach to utilize. It’s inherent within you. It’s why people have come to you with the matter.”
For once, I let his words seep into my consciousness, and I allow myself to find comfort in them. This was never a path I would’ve chosen for myself, yet it is the one that has presented itself to me. And I’m not one to turn away from a challenge. While I may not believe in the multitude of deities in this land, it’s difficult for me to deny that something has placed me where I need to be, in this moment. I may not be good with words, but perhaps the right ones will find their way to me, just as they did when I needed to rally my warriors into action, or console an ailing comrade or family member of the fallen.
Taking a deep breath, I give Upachu a reassuring nod, signaling my preparedness for what lies ahead. Despite the chill in the air and the coming winter weather that steadily approaches, the sun that shines amidst the cloudless sky warms my face, as if to tell me that I have its unyielding support. While the residents of Hilaqta go about their business, blissfully unaware of the impending threat to our people and the continent, I approach the Great Library that proudly towers over our people.
Just beyond the grand entrance stand the trio of outsiders: Inuxeq, Mexqutli, and Sianchu. They're immersed in a hushed, conspiratorial conversation, leaning in close as if to shield their words from the distant guards. The array of colors they wear to represent their respective factions is made blatant and obvious, to ensure the gravity of the situation and the far reach of the cultists’ threat is easily apparent. I just hope their plan works.
They greet me with cautious smiles, equally anticipating the likely opposition we’re to face with the council. The Ulxa warrior—supposedly an Iqsuwa, by his account—appears the most confident, with his chin held high, although his eyes betray him as they dart around and don’t ever connect with mine for more than a heartbeat.
We don’t exchange any words other than Upachu’s instructions to follow us into the Great Library. Although Mexqutli and Sianchu keep their focus straight ahead as we enter the quipu store room, the young Tuatiu warrior looks around with wonderment, mouth agape. She gazes upon the mass of people, the huge ceiling, the expansive space, the brief glimpse of the garden with its exotic flora, as if she were newly born into this world.
“I’ve never seen a building so large before,” Inuxeq says awestricken. “To think, man created all of this… Just to safeguard and immortalize their knowledge.” She continues walking, her eyes darting around the vast chamber. The vibrant rows of quipus hang from the tall wooden beams, each telling a story of its own. The soft, ambient light of the morning casts intricate patterns of shadows, making the room feel both grand and intimate.
She notices the robed men, each with a reverence in their steps, moving between the rows, touching the quipus gently, interpreting the knots and colors, and whispering their findings and recollections. Their presence adds a solemnity, underscoring the sacredness of the place.
“The colors,” she murmurs in mesmerized whisper, as if sharing a secret with the air around her, “each one telling a tale. And the silence...” she pauses, taking in the almost reverent hush of the room, broken only by our footsteps and the soft utterances of the robed men, “...it's as if the very walls are listening, absorbing every piece of knowledge shared.”
It’s refreshing to hear someone enchanted with this place that I’ve grown to loathe since I’ve become a council member. It reminds me of the days walking with my father past the rows upon rows upon rows of quipus and the robed men inspecting them all. Entilqan always wandered off into the courtyard garden, but I was fascinated by the number of people who created this place and dedicated their lives to preserving the contents within. That it takes this many people to ensure the knowledge and wisdom accumulated throughout Qantua and all of Pachil will live on for generations, and persevered, even throughout the Timuaq rule. I’ve become jaded within these walls, but this outsider’s perspective renews something within me, revitalizing my worship of my homeland.
Inside, Taqsame speaks to a few elders at the entrance of the chamber, donning his warrior’s outfit equipped with armor as though he’s prepared to go to war directly after the conclusion of the meeting—or, perhaps, during. After sharing a hearty laugh with the gathered men, he catches my gaze and offers a sly smirk. He finally notices the people accompanying me and chuckles at the sight.
“Reinforcements?” he asks condescendingly. I continue walking without exchanging any words, but it doesn’t prevent him from carrying on with his taunts. “I don’t see why you’d want a larger audience to witness your embarrassment, Teqosa.”
Mexqutli, raising an eyebrow and casting a side glance towards Taqsame, retorts, “Teqosa merely wishes for more to witness the spectacle of your ignorance. A true performance deserves an audience, after all.”
I see it takes Taqsame a moment to register Mexqutli’s quip, but by the time he’s processed the verbal jab, we’ve made our way into the council chamber. There are a few objections when Upachu and I enter with our outsider companions, but we are quick to suppress any protests.
“My fellow council members,” Upachu says, hands raised. “We have distinguished guests that are here to speak on an urgent matter. Their presence here in this chamber is vitally important, and I request that you allow them entry into today’s discussion.”
“We are to vote, Upachu,” one of the rotund council elders blusters—Humina, if I recall correctly. “This is no time to bring in–“
“I believe,” Upachu interrupts, “once you hear what must be said, it will become apparent that they should be allowed here.”
“Why should we listen to you?” Humina chides Upachu with a sneer. “After all, you were ill for our prior meeting, and now you appear, as strong as a jaguar’s leap. What miracle was performed to have you heal so quickly?”
“Perhaps I’m simply resilient as maze in the sun,” Upachu quips, flexing his meager muscles at the council member and, softly, beating his chest, which solicits a few laughs—though none coming from Humina, of course.
“You cannot bring in the Arbiter’s Shadow when the matters that will be discussed today involves his leader!” another shouts. “This is no place for an advisor to the Arbiter to be allowed.”
“The issue that Teqosa is to discuss is more important than some squabbling among the Tapeu nobility,” Upachu says. “Let us through and listen for yourself. Unless, of course, you prefer treasonous ways.”
Sianchu looks surprised at Upachu’s statement, but not as startled as the elders attempting to protest. I refrain from smiling, knowing Upachu has put these men into a precarious position and effectively forced their hand. They are going to have a difficult time forming excuses when they’re inevitably confronted by the Tapeu advisor later. After some grumbling amongst the council members, the heavy-set Humina contorts his face into a twisted snarl, eventually conceding, “Fine, but make it quick. We have a vote to get to, and I don’t have all day to waste around here.”
I find myself at the front of the room, my heart racing so intensely that its pounding drowns out all other sounds in my ears. Drawing in a deep breath, I center myself, focusing as I do before entering combat. I regard this room as a battlefield, and myself as a warrior with a mission that must be accomplished. It’s the stillness that I internalize before the fight, and in this chamber, with all eyes cast upon me, waiting with anticipation of my speech, I feel the power that’s been granted to me by their attention. Whether reluctantly or willingly, they will hang onto my every word. This is my chance.
“Esteemed council members, while there have been numerous matters presented before you, I stand here today with an urgency that surpasses them all. Discussions of the Arbiter's actions and the unrest in Tapeu are pressing, yes, but I urge you to divert your gaze to a more insidious, omnipresent threat—one that jeopardizes every corner of Pachil, not just our beloved Qantua.”
Some of the council members, Taqsame in particular, scoff and guffaw, but I disregard their derisive behavior and press on. Glancing over to the outsiders, I can see that some of what I’ve shared is news to the likes of Sianchu, but it’s a matter I’ll have to discuss with him at a later time.
“Today, I introduce to you individuals who, like us, have stared into the eyes of this burgeoning malevolence. An organization not only scheming to shatter the fragile peace we're nurturing but determined to seize the throne and enslave every faction to their despotic rule. This menace, my fellow council members, is not mere hearsay or speculation—it possesses power that is unnatural, wielding both beast and element to further its sinister cause. These allies beside me are testament to the scope of the threat’s reach, from the depths of Tuatiu's jungles to our very own doorstep.
“Yes, Qapauma presents its challenges and disputes. I will not dismiss its importance. But what good is a stronghold if the very land it stands upon is consumed by shadows? Remember the monstrous entities we vanquished in the War of Liberation? They are being reawakened, marshaled to serve this cult's designs. They control the very flames, manipulating them with a fearsome prowess. If left unchecked, I fear their influence will soon be inescapable, casting a pall over all of Pachil—a land we shed blood and tears for to ensure its liberty just a harvest past. I implore you, before casting a vote on any other motion, to first address this dark storm brewing at our borders. Together, let us rally and shield our lands from the looming peril of the Eye in the Flame.”
“You expect us,” Taqsame says, standing up from his seat and pacing around the table, “to buy into this argument that there is a looming threat? It sounds awfully convenient to present this the morning of our vote on a matter to which you have expressed opposition, with a member of the Arbiter’s council present. This feels like a deliberate attempt to distract us from the real matter at hand—one in which you know you're outnumbered.”
I take a deep breath, clasping my hands together in thought before speaking, “I understand your skepticism, Taqsame, and in a way, I respect it. Our duty as leaders is to question, to evaluate, to seek the truth. But let me ask you this: what would I stand to gain from fabricating such a threat? These people who stand beside me hail from diverse factions, each with its own priorities and interests. They've witnessed firsthand the horrors of which this cult is capable. Would they be here to spin tales?”
“How am I to believe these are not people you've brought off the streets of Hilaqta,” Taqsame says, ”or even our port city to the south, Iaqutaq? You could have easily paid these people to represent the Tuatiu and Ulxa—it's not difficult to dress someone in green or red. Besides, bringing in the Arbiter's Shadow, Sianchu, only validates my point that this is some ploy to prevent us from dealing with the matters in Qapauma ourselves. You're clearly attempting to intimidate this council into showing its belly to our new oppressors, the Tapeu.”
“Sianchu's presence is not to intimidate, but to reinforce the magnitude of what we face,” I say. “I’m not asking you to abandon the concerns regarding Qapauma. I’m asking you to recognize that there are times when a larger threat emerges—one that demands our collective attention. This is one of those times.”
“Are my scars mere tales to you?” the young Inuxeq says with a fiery passion, her gaze unwavering. “To ignore them is to turn a blind eye to the danger at our doorstep. I bear the pain, the memories, of battling this evil. Do you truly think Teqosa would fabricate such a story? I would never parade the deaths of my people for mere politics, and ignoring this truth is to dishonor those who have fallen. In Tuatiu, we have lost warriors, families, and homes to these monsters. Believe me, I would rather be rebuilding my homeland than standing here trying to convince you. But this threat is real, and it requires our united effort.”
As she speaks, my eye is drawn to the blade she carries. “Inuxeq, perhaps you could show the council the sword? A relic taken directly from the cult itself, not something one simply finds lying around.”
Inuxeq, drawing the sword, displays its unique craftsmanship, the details that scream of the cult's presence. She announces, “This blade is not of Tuatiu make, nor Qantua, nor Qiapu. This is the very tool of our enemy, as marked by their terrible symbol etched upon it. Feel its weight, its balance, the very metals it's made from. It's not of Qiapu craftsmanship, and those in this chamber familiar with metals and forge-work will recognize that. Take a closer look, council members, and tell me this is not proof enough.”
The council members rise from their seats and gather around the weapon held in Inuxeq’s hands. They inspect its craftsmanship, eyeing the blade and hilt, then deliberate amongst themselves for a moment, with many nodding and coming to the conclusion that the weapon is, in fact, what we’ve presented it to be.
“I’ve never encountered a weapon so simple, yet exuding such a menacing aura,” Amalqusi remarks, a hint of wonder lacing his tone.
Growing visibly impatient, Taqsame kicks aside a nearby chair to draw everyone’s attention to him and shouts, “That sword could have been crafted anywhere! Do you think a Qiapu forger couldn't easily craft something of that quality and engraved it with whatever symbol you have chosen to represent this mythical ‘cult’? Besides, that weapon has the obsidian in its hilt of a typical Ulxa blade. How are we to not believe it doesn’t belong to that Ulxa man beside you?”
Mexqutli smirks and steps forward, abruptly drawing his own blade from its sheath, which startles the council members. After Upachu and I calm everyone down, the Ulxa man resumes presenting his sword with unsubtle flair to match Taqsame’s grandstanding. “Compare them side by side,” he states confidently. “While obsidian is indeed a favored material in Ulxa craftsmanship, the designs, the weight, and even the engravings differ greatly. My blade is designed for the swift Iqsuwa attacking style, whereas this,” he disdainfully points to the cult's blade, “is heavier, adorned with symbols foreign to Ulxa and more aligned with dark rituals. See for yourself, the crudely marked eye inside a flame, to which the cult takes its name.”
“Wait,” Amalqusi says, perplexed, “this man is Iqsuwa?”
His question goes unanswered as the councilmen focus their attention on the two blades. As the deliberations continue, I speak, “I would not risk my credibility, my honor, for mere fabrications. Each of these individuals has experienced encounters with this cult, each bearing their own evidence. There comes a time when we must move beyond doubt and take action. We must address this threat before it’s too late.”
“Do we know where this threat is, and who they plan to attack?” Amalqusi asks, standing tall behind his chair, his hands resting on the backrest as he leans forward slightly.
“The cult and their leader, called the ‘Sunfire’, escaped into the mountains between Tuatiu and Aimue,” Inuxeq says.
“And Teqosa and I encountered this cult at the Temple of the Titans,” Upachu adds.
“They attacked while Upachu and I were present by order of the Arbiter to retrieve quipus and information that could assist in the reconstruction efforts,” I explain, preemptively addressing any questions that might jeopardize the revelations Upachu and I uncovered at the temple.
“I recall hearing news of the decimated temple,” one of the oldest members of the council says, his voice a weathered squeak. “Most unfortunate circumstances.”
“That is not far from Hilaqta at all,” another council member says, alarmed by the realization.
“You can inquire about the events from any of the keepers of the Temple of the Titans,” I say. “They are witnesses to the assault by the Eye in the Flame, as well.”
“If the threat is that close, Teqosa is correct,” Amalqusi says. “They could be approaching Hilaqta and planning to assault our people without a moment’s notice.”
“You’re not seriously planning to change course, are you?” Taqsame says, sounding aggrieved. “We have more pressing matters to consider that involve realcircumstances.”
“You mean the rumors of rebellious cells that has yet to be proven?” Upachu retorts, drawing a few snickers from around the table. “You seemed so eager to risk the lives of the Qantua for such a purpose earlier, but with multiple witness testimony and physical evidence provided, you suddenly lack interest in combatting an actual threat?”
Before Taqsame can respond, one of the council members states, “I’ve heard and seen enough. Even if speculation remains around this ‘Eye in the Flame’, I’m more inclined to listen to multiple accounts from individuals of multiple factions than some professed gossip by a messenger without any stakes in their claim. I motion to dismiss the Tapeu matter until this immediate threat has been dealt with.”
With a nearly unanimous agreement—saving all but Taqsame and Humina—the council concludes that the threat of the Eye in the Flame is far too great, and too close to home, to be ignored.
“Since you have done well to unite the factions to this cause, you should spearhead the charge to defeat this evil presence,” Amalqusi says. I begin to decline, knowing Upachu and I have other matters to tend to that, in my opinion, may be better suited to assist our fight against the Eye in the Flame. Yet before I can object, the meeting is adjourned and the council members begin to disperse. Sianchu, Mexqutli, and Inuxeq look at me curiously, but to avoid drawing any suspicions, I bite my tongue and make my way toward the exit. Not before I can be accosted by Taqsame, however.
Through gritted teeth, he says, “Do you think you’ve won with this mediocre display, Teqosa? This only allows the Tapeu to gain a stranglehold on the throne.”
“If such a threat exists,” I say, continuing to exit the chamber without looking at him directly, “it will be handled in time. However, if we allow the Eye in the Flame to continue unchecked, the uprising in Tapeu will soon become the least of our worries.”
“You’re deluding yourself if you think this is over,” Taqsame says with a snarl.
I’m about to ignore him when Inuxeq responds, “Maybe it's you who should open your eyes, Taqsame. Some battles are bigger than our personal vendettas.”
Someone from inside the large chamber of quipus calls to Taqsame and pulls him away, and he storms off, finally leaving us in peace.
“Tensions are high, and our journey has only just begun,” Upachu says. “We should be prepared for what's to come.”
“Let us reconvene at your home, Teqosa, and we can plan for the battles ahead,” Mexqutli says. I nod and tell them I’ll meet everyone there, wanting to take in a rare bit of peace and tranquility.
I find myself surprised, for even in my many years in service, few days have tested me as this has. Standing before the council, speaking truths they did not want to hear, I saw faces clouded with skepticism and doubt. Yet, there was a glimmer, a hope, a possibility that they would see past their prejudices and truly listen.
Inuxeq and Mexqutli, though of different worlds, stood beside me, and their tales, their experiences, only reinforced the direness of the threat we face. But, it is Taqsame's face that haunts my thoughts, his incredulity, his anger. How easy it would have been to take the path of least resistance, to bow to his will, to let the council's inclination for war guide our fate.
Yet if there's one thing I've learned in my years, it's that the easy path is often not the righteous one. We're at a precipice, a moment where the very future of Pachil hangs in the balance. It's not the battles with swords and shields that will define us, but the battles of minds and hearts.
As the dust of the council chamber settles behind me and the murmurs of deliberation echo in the distance, I find solace in knowing that we might have taken our first step towards uniting against a common foe. But the journey ahead? It will test us in ways we cannot yet fathom.
I close my eyes, drawing in a deep breath, grounding myself in this moment. For all the uncertainties that lie ahead, today, I stood firm. And tomorrow? Tomorrow, we prepare for the storm that looms on the horizon.
“How are you feeling this morning?”
Upachu’s seemingly innocuous inquiry is simple, yet it hints at the daunting task that lays before me. My sleep the night before was restless, as I tossed and turned thinking about what I must present before the council. How will they receive the news? Will it be enough to dissuade them from needlessly attacking Qapauma? Will they comprehend the looming threat of the Eye in the Flame, or will they view me as a mad man?
I sigh and frown, “As good as one can feel before talking about cultists with flaming swords and supernatural beasts.”
“It will most certainly sound like you’re telling fables,” Upachu says. “We can hope that having four witnesses to the might of the Eye in the Flame will support your statement.”
“If Taqsame has as much sway over the council as he claims to have, it will be a contentious, challenging feat to accomplish,” I say.
“It will not be the most enjoyable experience at the council chambers,” Upachu says, unreassuringly.
“Add to this that I am a terrible speaker,” I mention. “Are you certain you shouldn’t be speaking instead?”
“While I have the status as an elder, having one military tactician speak against another will hold greater leverage, I think,” he says. “I believe having a Maqanuiache graduate would influence the other military-minded council members, especially when competing with Taqsame for their minds and their hearts, don’t you agree?”
I only respond with a deepened frown. If it’s a matter of tactics, I could take on Taqsame handily. However, in a war of words, I’m not certain I can hold up to the challenge. Taqsame has proven to be a cunning and manipulative foe in the political arena, where he seems poised to ingratiate himself more. While the Qantua have not allowed themselves to be ruled by a single person, he could gain enough favor to be highly influential for the duration of his career in the council. It’s a grave concern if his response to any ailing ally is to exploit the weakness and attack.
“Besides,” Upachu continues, “you will not be alone in this fight. You have my support, as well as that of the outsiders—one of whom is the Arbiter’s Shadow, need I remind you. That holds gravitas over anything the young Taqsame attempts to instigate.”
“The Arbiter whom Taqsame has projected as weak,” I now remind Upachu. “His sole argument is that Achutli cannot control his own people, questioning why he should be allowed to hold any power over the other factions as a result. Having Sianchu speak may appear as an effort to distract and divert attention away from the issues plaguing Tapeu.”
“See!” Upachu says. “A tactical thinker! This is why we need you!”
Although he’s well-meaning, it’s a struggle for me to appreciate Upachu’s sentiments when so much is at stake. I am a warrior, built to fight with my glaive, not my words. I fear that anything I say will be inadequate and insufficient to convince the council of the actual threat, to not be opportunists and potentially ruin our diplomatic standing among the other factions in Pachil.
“Whatever you’re thinking inside that head of yours,” Upachu says, distracting me from my thoughts, “use that when speaking to the council. I see you deep in concentration and focus. You’ve got that look, that long distance stare, that is formulating a plan, the best approach to utilize. It’s inherent within you. It’s why people have come to you with the matter.”
For once, I let his words seep into my consciousness, and I allow myself to find comfort in them. This was never a path I would’ve chosen for myself, yet it is the one that has presented itself to me. And I’m not one to turn away from a challenge. While I may not believe in the multitude of deities in this land, it’s difficult for me to deny that something has placed me where I need to be, in this moment. I may not be good with words, but perhaps the right ones will find their way to me, just as they did when I needed to rally my warriors into action, or console an ailing comrade or family member of the fallen.
Taking a deep breath, I give Upachu a reassuring nod, signaling my preparedness for what lies ahead. Despite the chill in the air and the coming winter weather that steadily approaches, the sun that shines amidst the cloudless sky warms my face, as if to tell me that I have its unyielding support. While the residents of Hilaqta go about their business, blissfully unaware of the impending threat to our people and the continent, I approach the Great Library that proudly towers over our people.
Just beyond the grand entrance stand the trio of outsiders: Inuxeq, Mexqutli, and Sianchu. They're immersed in a hushed, conspiratorial conversation, leaning in close as if to shield their words from the distant guards. The array of colors they wear to represent their respective factions is made blatant and obvious, to ensure the gravity of the situation and the far reach of the cultists’ threat is easily apparent. I just hope their plan works.
They greet me with cautious smiles, equally anticipating the likely opposition we’re to face with the council. The Ulxa warrior—supposedly an Iqsuwa, by his account—appears the most confident, with his chin held high, although his eyes betray him as they dart around and don’t ever connect with mine for more than a heartbeat.
We don’t exchange any words other than Upachu’s instructions to follow us into the Great Library. Although Mexqutli and Sianchu keep their focus straight ahead as we enter the quipu store room, the young Tuatiu warrior looks around with wonderment, mouth agape. She gazes upon the mass of people, the huge ceiling, the expansive space, the brief glimpse of the garden with its exotic flora, as if she were newly born into this world.
“I’ve never seen a building so large before,” Inuxeq says awestricken. “To think, man created all of this… Just to safeguard and immortalize their knowledge.” She continues walking, her eyes darting around the vast chamber. The vibrant rows of quipus hang from the tall wooden beams, each telling a story of its own. The soft, ambient light of the morning casts intricate patterns of shadows, making the room feel both grand and intimate.
She notices the robed men, each with a reverence in their steps, moving between the rows, touching the quipus gently, interpreting the knots and colors, and whispering their findings and recollections. Their presence adds a solemnity, underscoring the sacredness of the place.
“The colors,” she murmurs in mesmerized whisper, as if sharing a secret with the air around her, “each one telling a tale. And the silence...” she pauses, taking in the almost reverent hush of the room, broken only by our footsteps and the soft utterances of the robed men, “...it's as if the very walls are listening, absorbing every piece of knowledge shared.”
It’s refreshing to hear someone enchanted with this place that I’ve grown to loathe since I’ve become a council member. It reminds me of the days walking with my father past the rows upon rows upon rows of quipus and the robed men inspecting them all. Entilqan always wandered off into the courtyard garden, but I was fascinated by the number of people who created this place and dedicated their lives to preserving the contents within. That it takes this many people to ensure the knowledge and wisdom accumulated throughout Qantua and all of Pachil will live on for generations, and persevered, even throughout the Timuaq rule. I’ve become jaded within these walls, but this outsider’s perspective renews something within me, revitalizing my worship of my homeland.
Inside, Taqsame speaks to a few elders at the entrance of the chamber, donning his warrior’s outfit equipped with armor as though he’s prepared to go to war directly after the conclusion of the meeting—or, perhaps, during. After sharing a hearty laugh with the gathered men, he catches my gaze and offers a sly smirk. He finally notices the people accompanying me and chuckles at the sight.
“Reinforcements?” he asks condescendingly. I continue walking without exchanging any words, but it doesn’t prevent him from carrying on with his taunts. “I don’t see why you’d want a larger audience to witness your embarrassment, Teqosa.”
Mexqutli, raising an eyebrow and casting a side glance towards Taqsame, retorts, “Teqosa merely wishes for more to witness the spectacle of your ignorance. A true performance deserves an audience, after all.”
I see it takes Taqsame a moment to register Mexqutli’s quip, but by the time he’s processed the verbal jab, we’ve made our way into the council chamber. There are a few objections when Upachu and I enter with our outsider companions, but we are quick to suppress any protests.
“My fellow council members,” Upachu says, hands raised. “We have distinguished guests that are here to speak on an urgent matter. Their presence here in this chamber is vitally important, and I request that you allow them entry into today’s discussion.”
“We are to vote, Upachu,” one of the rotund council elders blusters—Humina, if I recall correctly. “This is no time to bring in–“
“I believe,” Upachu interrupts, “once you hear what must be said, it will become apparent that they should be allowed here.”
“Why should we listen to you?” Humina chides Upachu with a sneer. “After all, you were ill for our prior meeting, and now you appear, as strong as a jaguar’s leap. What miracle was performed to have you heal so quickly?”
“Perhaps I’m simply resilient as maze in the sun,” Upachu quips, flexing his meager muscles at the council member and, softly, beating his chest, which solicits a few laughs—though none coming from Humina, of course.
“You cannot bring in the Arbiter’s Shadow when the matters that will be discussed today involves his leader!” another shouts. “This is no place for an advisor to the Arbiter to be allowed.”
“The issue that Teqosa is to discuss is more important than some squabbling among the Tapeu nobility,” Upachu says. “Let us through and listen for yourself. Unless, of course, you prefer treasonous ways.”
Sianchu looks surprised at Upachu’s statement, but not as startled as the elders attempting to protest. I refrain from smiling, knowing Upachu has put these men into a precarious position and effectively forced their hand. They are going to have a difficult time forming excuses when they’re inevitably confronted by the Tapeu advisor later. After some grumbling amongst the council members, the heavy-set Humina contorts his face into a twisted snarl, eventually conceding, “Fine, but make it quick. We have a vote to get to, and I don’t have all day to waste around here.”
I find myself at the front of the room, my heart racing so intensely that its pounding drowns out all other sounds in my ears. Drawing in a deep breath, I center myself, focusing as I do before entering combat. I regard this room as a battlefield, and myself as a warrior with a mission that must be accomplished. It’s the stillness that I internalize before the fight, and in this chamber, with all eyes cast upon me, waiting with anticipation of my speech, I feel the power that’s been granted to me by their attention. Whether reluctantly or willingly, they will hang onto my every word. This is my chance.
“Esteemed council members, while there have been numerous matters presented before you, I stand here today with an urgency that surpasses them all. Discussions of the Arbiter's actions and the unrest in Tapeu are pressing, yes, but I urge you to divert your gaze to a more insidious, omnipresent threat—one that jeopardizes every corner of Pachil, not just our beloved Qantua.”
Some of the council members, Taqsame in particular, scoff and guffaw, but I disregard their derisive behavior and press on. Glancing over to the outsiders, I can see that some of what I’ve shared is news to the likes of Sianchu, but it’s a matter I’ll have to discuss with him at a later time.
“Today, I introduce to you individuals who, like us, have stared into the eyes of this burgeoning malevolence. An organization not only scheming to shatter the fragile peace we're nurturing but determined to seize the throne and enslave every faction to their despotic rule. This menace, my fellow council members, is not mere hearsay or speculation—it possesses power that is unnatural, wielding both beast and element to further its sinister cause. These allies beside me are testament to the scope of the threat’s reach, from the depths of Tuatiu's jungles to our very own doorstep.
“Yes, Qapauma presents its challenges and disputes. I will not dismiss its importance. But what good is a stronghold if the very land it stands upon is consumed by shadows? Remember the monstrous entities we vanquished in the War of Liberation? They are being reawakened, marshaled to serve this cult's designs. They control the very flames, manipulating them with a fearsome prowess. If left unchecked, I fear their influence will soon be inescapable, casting a pall over all of Pachil—a land we shed blood and tears for to ensure its liberty just a harvest past. I implore you, before casting a vote on any other motion, to first address this dark storm brewing at our borders. Together, let us rally and shield our lands from the looming peril of the Eye in the Flame.”
“You expect us,” Taqsame says, standing up from his seat and pacing around the table, “to buy into this argument that there is a looming threat? It sounds awfully convenient to present this the morning of our vote on a matter to which you have expressed opposition, with a member of the Arbiter’s council present. This feels like a deliberate attempt to distract us from the real matter at hand—one in which you know you're outnumbered.”
I take a deep breath, clasping my hands together in thought before speaking, “I understand your skepticism, Taqsame, and in a way, I respect it. Our duty as leaders is to question, to evaluate, to seek the truth. But let me ask you this: what would I stand to gain from fabricating such a threat? These people who stand beside me hail from diverse factions, each with its own priorities and interests. They've witnessed firsthand the horrors of which this cult is capable. Would they be here to spin tales?”
“How am I to believe these are not people you've brought off the streets of Hilaqta,” Taqsame says, ”or even our port city to the south, Iaqutaq? You could have easily paid these people to represent the Tuatiu and Ulxa—it's not difficult to dress someone in green or red. Besides, bringing in the Arbiter's Shadow, Sianchu, only validates my point that this is some ploy to prevent us from dealing with the matters in Qapauma ourselves. You're clearly attempting to intimidate this council into showing its belly to our new oppressors, the Tapeu.”
“Sianchu's presence is not to intimidate, but to reinforce the magnitude of what we face,” I say. “I’m not asking you to abandon the concerns regarding Qapauma. I’m asking you to recognize that there are times when a larger threat emerges—one that demands our collective attention. This is one of those times.”
“Are my scars mere tales to you?” the young Inuxeq says with a fiery passion, her gaze unwavering. “To ignore them is to turn a blind eye to the danger at our doorstep. I bear the pain, the memories, of battling this evil. Do you truly think Teqosa would fabricate such a story? I would never parade the deaths of my people for mere politics, and ignoring this truth is to dishonor those who have fallen. In Tuatiu, we have lost warriors, families, and homes to these monsters. Believe me, I would rather be rebuilding my homeland than standing here trying to convince you. But this threat is real, and it requires our united effort.”
As she speaks, my eye is drawn to the blade she carries. “Inuxeq, perhaps you could show the council the sword? A relic taken directly from the cult itself, not something one simply finds lying around.”
Inuxeq, drawing the sword, displays its unique craftsmanship, the details that scream of the cult's presence. She announces, “This blade is not of Tuatiu make, nor Qantua, nor Qiapu. This is the very tool of our enemy, as marked by their terrible symbol etched upon it. Feel its weight, its balance, the very metals it's made from. It's not of Qiapu craftsmanship, and those in this chamber familiar with metals and forge-work will recognize that. Take a closer look, council members, and tell me this is not proof enough.”
The council members rise from their seats and gather around the weapon held in Inuxeq’s hands. They inspect its craftsmanship, eyeing the blade and hilt, then deliberate amongst themselves for a moment, with many nodding and coming to the conclusion that the weapon is, in fact, what we’ve presented it to be.
“I’ve never encountered a weapon so simple, yet exuding such a menacing aura,” Amalqusi remarks, a hint of wonder lacing his tone.
Growing visibly impatient, Taqsame kicks aside a nearby chair to draw everyone’s attention to him and shouts, “That sword could have been crafted anywhere! Do you think a Qiapu forger couldn't easily craft something of that quality and engraved it with whatever symbol you have chosen to represent this mythical ‘cult’? Besides, that weapon has the obsidian in its hilt of a typical Ulxa blade. How are we to not believe it doesn’t belong to that Ulxa man beside you?”
Mexqutli smirks and steps forward, abruptly drawing his own blade from its sheath, which startles the council members. After Upachu and I calm everyone down, the Ulxa man resumes presenting his sword with unsubtle flair to match Taqsame’s grandstanding. “Compare them side by side,” he states confidently. “While obsidian is indeed a favored material in Ulxa craftsmanship, the designs, the weight, and even the engravings differ greatly. My blade is designed for the swift Iqsuwa attacking style, whereas this,” he disdainfully points to the cult's blade, “is heavier, adorned with symbols foreign to Ulxa and more aligned with dark rituals. See for yourself, the crudely marked eye inside a flame, to which the cult takes its name.”
“Wait,” Amalqusi says, perplexed, “this man is Iqsuwa?”
His question goes unanswered as the councilmen focus their attention on the two blades. As the deliberations continue, I speak, “I would not risk my credibility, my honor, for mere fabrications. Each of these individuals has experienced encounters with this cult, each bearing their own evidence. There comes a time when we must move beyond doubt and take action. We must address this threat before it’s too late.”
“Do we know where this threat is, and who they plan to attack?” Amalqusi asks, standing tall behind his chair, his hands resting on the backrest as he leans forward slightly.
“The cult and their leader, called the ‘Sunfire’, escaped into the mountains between Tuatiu and Aimue,” Inuxeq says.
“And Teqosa and I encountered this cult at the Temple of the Titans,” Upachu adds.
“They attacked while Upachu and I were present by order of the Arbiter to retrieve quipus and information that could assist in the reconstruction efforts,” I explain, preemptively addressing any questions that might jeopardize the revelations Upachu and I uncovered at the temple.
“I recall hearing news of the decimated temple,” one of the oldest members of the council says, his voice a weathered squeak. “Most unfortunate circumstances.”
“That is not far from Hilaqta at all,” another council member says, alarmed by the realization.
“You can inquire about the events from any of the keepers of the Temple of the Titans,” I say. “They are witnesses to the assault by the Eye in the Flame, as well.”
“If the threat is that close, Teqosa is correct,” Amalqusi says. “They could be approaching Hilaqta and planning to assault our people without a moment’s notice.”
“You’re not seriously planning to change course, are you?” Taqsame says, sounding aggrieved. “We have more pressing matters to consider that involve realcircumstances.”
“You mean the rumors of rebellious cells that has yet to be proven?” Upachu retorts, drawing a few snickers from around the table. “You seemed so eager to risk the lives of the Qantua for such a purpose earlier, but with multiple witness testimony and physical evidence provided, you suddenly lack interest in combatting an actual threat?”
Before Taqsame can respond, one of the council members states, “I’ve heard and seen enough. Even if speculation remains around this ‘Eye in the Flame’, I’m more inclined to listen to multiple accounts from individuals of multiple factions than some professed gossip by a messenger without any stakes in their claim. I motion to dismiss the Tapeu matter until this immediate threat has been dealt with.”
With a nearly unanimous agreement—saving all but Taqsame and Humina—the council concludes that the threat of the Eye in the Flame is far too great, and too close to home, to be ignored.
“Since you have done well to unite the factions to this cause, you should spearhead the charge to defeat this evil presence,” Amalqusi says. I begin to decline, knowing Upachu and I have other matters to tend to that, in my opinion, may be better suited to assist our fight against the Eye in the Flame. Yet before I can object, the meeting is adjourned and the council members begin to disperse. Sianchu, Mexqutli, and Inuxeq look at me curiously, but to avoid drawing any suspicions, I bite my tongue and make my way toward the exit. Not before I can be accosted by Taqsame, however.
Through gritted teeth, he says, “Do you think you’ve won with this mediocre display, Teqosa? This only allows the Tapeu to gain a stranglehold on the throne.”
“If such a threat exists,” I say, continuing to exit the chamber without looking at him directly, “it will be handled in time. However, if we allow the Eye in the Flame to continue unchecked, the uprising in Tapeu will soon become the least of our worries.”
“You’re deluding yourself if you think this is over,” Taqsame says with a snarl.
I’m about to ignore him when Inuxeq responds, “Maybe it's you who should open your eyes, Taqsame. Some battles are bigger than our personal vendettas.”
Someone from inside the large chamber of quipus calls to Taqsame and pulls him away, and he storms off, finally leaving us in peace.
“Tensions are high, and our journey has only just begun,” Upachu says. “We should be prepared for what's to come.”
“Let us reconvene at your home, Teqosa, and we can plan for the battles ahead,” Mexqutli says. I nod and tell them I’ll meet everyone there, wanting to take in a rare bit of peace and tranquility.
I find myself surprised, for even in my many years in service, few days have tested me as this has. Standing before the council, speaking truths they did not want to hear, I saw faces clouded with skepticism and doubt. Yet, there was a glimmer, a hope, a possibility that they would see past their prejudices and truly listen.
Inuxeq and Mexqutli, though of different worlds, stood beside me, and their tales, their experiences, only reinforced the direness of the threat we face. But, it is Taqsame's face that haunts my thoughts, his incredulity, his anger. How easy it would have been to take the path of least resistance, to bow to his will, to let the council's inclination for war guide our fate.
Yet if there's one thing I've learned in my years, it's that the easy path is often not the righteous one. We're at a precipice, a moment where the very future of Pachil hangs in the balance. It's not the battles with swords and shields that will define us, but the battles of minds and hearts.
As the dust of the council chamber settles behind me and the murmurs of deliberation echo in the distance, I find solace in knowing that we might have taken our first step towards uniting against a common foe. But the journey ahead? It will test us in ways we cannot yet fathom.
I close my eyes, drawing in a deep breath, grounding myself in this moment. For all the uncertainties that lie ahead, today, I stood firm. And tomorrow? Tomorrow, we prepare for the storm that looms on the horizon.
