The five men stare back at me as though I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have.
“So, you’re proposing treason,” Pomaqli says, pausing to comprehend the words he just spoke.
“What I’m proposing, is a chance for Qiapu to redeem itself and escape the clutches of a self-serving ruler.”
“With Sanqo warriors,” the warrior called Naqispi says. “And I take it without your neck on the line.”
“It’s a chance for both Qiapu and Sanqo to redeem themselves,” I argue. “Qiapu is falling into the clutches of a ruler who has made a bargain with an evil cult and can be saved, while the Sanqo–“
“What about Sanqo?” the brawny Pomacha asks, eyes narrowed.
Naqispi joins in. “Yes, enlighten us as to how we should be seeking redemption?”
I can sense this conversation, and my proposal, slipping away in the face of their skepticism. I’ll need a different approach, one that is steady and unwavering, yet addresses their concerns.
“Allow me to clarify,” I begin, taking a deep breath and fighting to remain poised. “What I propose is a united stand against a common enemy: The Eye in the Flame. You can see the destruction they wrought here at the palace. And as Lady Walumaq informed me, your people had encounters with their kind during your time in Chalaqta. This cult is a blight not just on Qiapu or Sanqo, but on the heart of Pachil itself. By aligning ourselves, even temporarily, we can protect our lands, our people, and our sovereignty.”
Though they take my words into consideration, reluctance still remains on the warriors’ faces. I must continue to stress the importance of this united front. “The Sanqo are known across the lands for their indomitable spirit and fierce independence. Your people’s strength and resilience are renowned. I have immense respect for that. But in the face of a threat that disregards borders, that aims to subjugate all under a reign of terror, isolated resistance is like a lone canoe against a raging current. Together, we can present a formidable alliance, one that can safeguard the dignity and sovereignty of all our people. And the Sanqo can be the vital factor in all of this, one that the rest of the continent would have to acknowledge and respect.”
“And where does your ruler play a part in all of this?” Naqispi asks.
Hearing his question, there’s a noticeable shift in the men’s posture as they now lean in closer. I swallow the nervous lump down my throat and address both the mounting concern and need for urgency in this common purpose. “Our ruler has betrayed us, making a pact with these dark zealots.”
Surprise and alarm overtake their expressions as I continue, “He and his supporters have lost their way. To show that no external force can dictate the fate of our lands, we must unite in strength and purpose. Our factions have already stood tall against those who would see our cultures erased. Let us stand together once more as allies, defending Pachil from a darkness that seeks to consume us whole.”
“But why should we trust you?” one of the Sanqo warriors asks—this question coming from Chiqama. He steps forward, his gaze piercing. “We don’t seek redemption in the eyes of Pachil’s factions. Our concern is for Sanqo alone.”
“I don’t speak of redemption as an outsider’s judgement, but as an opportunity,” I answer. “It’s a chance for Sanqo to redefine themselves on their own terms. To show Pachil that the Sanqo are not relics of the past, but vital members in its future.”
The Sanqo warriors exchange glances as a silent conversation ripples through their ranks. This moment feels as pivotal as the turn of the tides, where the course of rivers can shift and carve new paths through the landscape.
“Chiqama speaks true,” Atoyaqtli, the presumed leader of these brave warriors, says flatly. ”Your words speak of unity, but they also carry the scent of desperation. Why should the Sanqo cast their lot with you? What do you offer that can outweigh the risks we bear by joining this rebellion?”
“What I offer is a vision where the Sanqo step out from the shadows of their past,” I reply, ready to lay bare the essence of my plea. “Where your strength and courage are recognized as a potent, living force of Pachil’s survival. Where your people are not castaways on an island, but invaluable to our continent’s future. You have the power to change the story. This is about forging a new legacy, one where the Sanqo are revered for the light they can bring during our darkest times.”
“That’s a sweet sentiment, Paxilche,” Pomaqli says, pacing around those of us gathered in this hall. “But it sounds dangerously close to treason. Our duty is to Qiapu. The Tempered is the one chosen by Aqxilapu to guide our people to prosperity. To go against that would be to go against our god!”
“Our duty is indeed to Qiapu,” I respond. “You know as well as I do that the title of Tempered should not be a cloak for tyranny. What I learned from Saxina—what he revealed without speaking directly—is that his alliance with the Eye in the Flame serves only his ambitions, not the welfare of Qiapu or the decree of Aqxilapu.”
Pomaqli looks astonished. “You’re basing this plan on speculation?”
“Saxina will never give us a direct answer,” I say. “It’s what’s spoken in the silences that told me all I needed to know.”
Pomaqli scoffs at this, but I continue. “To follow Saxina blindly is to betray the very essence of what Qiapu stands for. Aqxilapu champions strength, wisdom, and the prosperity of our people, not subjugation under dark forces for personal gain. You’ve seen for yourself that there’s a connection between the Eye in the Flame and my brother’s death—the same people with whom Saxina is aligning. If standing against such betrayal is treason, then it’s a title I’ll wear with honor, for it’s in true service to Qiapu and its people.”
Pomaqli halts his pacing as he deliberates over my words. With his voice tinged in a mixture of defiance and doubt, he asks, “And what of our oath to the Tempered?”
“What about our oath to the Tempered?” I state, stepping in closer to him. “Our oath is to the spirit of Qiapu, not to a man who would see it fall for his own rise. The greatest leaders in our history were those who dared to challenge the status quo when it strayed from the path of righteousness. Saxina has strayed far, far from that path.”
The men stare at me contemplatively, recognizing the severity of possible outcomes our actions may have. Undeterred, I say to the group, “We stand at a crossroads, gentlemen. Down one path lies blind loyalty to a corrupted ruler. Down the other, a difficult journey towards true leadership and redemption for Qiapu, to finally rebuild toward a prosperous future. I choose the latter. And I hope, for the sake of our people, you will too.”
The hall falls silent. Something fundamental shifts in their understanding of duty and loyalty, I can sense it. Pomaqli’s expression softens as the realization strikes him. I steady myself, hoping I’ve exuded enough confidence to sway them to my side. It’s a tremendous ask, and even though these Sanqo warriors are not the men who literally make the decisions for Sanqo, they will ultimately decide their faction’s fate if they’re convinced my cause is worthy.
“What is it you propose?” Atoyaqtli eventually asks, his voice laced with hesitation.
“We will need to amass an army here in Qiapu to pair with the Sanqo warriors, ensuring we have the numbers to take on those who will defend Saxina. With Saxina as the ruler, it will be difficult to separate the loyalists from those who understand that, in order to protect Qiapu, we must depose this tyrant. We should approach them with the acknowledgment that they are not defecting, but instead putting a stop to the evil that plagues not just Qiapu, but all of Pachil.”
“Except we’ll need evidence of Saxina’s involvement with the Eye in the Flame,” Pomaqli notes. “Nobody will support us if we can’t support this claim.”
“But we have evidence. Saxina declared the Eye in the Flame as the enemy and begun forcing people into military recruitment, yet no swift actions have been taken against them. In fact, the cult struck us again first. We can also point to Amalu, his trusted advisor, who possessed items that directly linked him to the Eye in the Flame and was known for his manipulation of the guards’ ranks the day my brother was assassinated.”
“Your evidence hinges on circumstantial ties and second-hand accounts,” Chiqama says. “Have you considered seeking out direct witnesses or documentation that could unequivocally tie Saxina to the Eye in the Flame? Without concrete evidence, you risk turning potential allies into skeptics.”
“Although there is circumstantial evidence, this is just a start,” I respond. “There may be those within the military or palace guards who either have additional information or can give testimonies to such suspicious behavior. We’ve already had guards discuss the regular schedule Amalu himself kept, leaving him ripe for his murder, and what was found in his chambers. These details alone raise enough questions about Saxina’s potential complicity with the Eye in the Flame. Though Pomaqli, Walumaq, and I have encountered such people, we will certainly need to not only have them join their voices to ours, but seek out more witnesses. This is something Pomaqli, with his strong connections to officials of the palace guard and military, should be able to obtain.”
Atoyaqtli frowns. “A formidable plan, but what you ask of Sanqo is a heavy lift. Aligning with Qiapu against a Tempered, even one so dubious as Saxina, is a grand gesture of trust—trust that has been thin on these lands for generations. What assurances can you provide that our involvement won’t be seen as another act of aggression by Sanqo? Our history is fraught with misinterpretation. We seek reconciliation, not further conflict.”
I nod, recognizing his concerns. The Sanqo have been frowned upon for generations, and with their recent diplomatic efforts, I can understand how assisting a faction with overthrowing their ruler could be perceived. “Perhaps we will need to start by ensuring we have the numbers in Qiapu to make a formidable stand against Saxina and his loyalists, then come to Sanqo leadership to request their aid in deposing him. For their allegiance, we should be able to craft enough weapons to provide to the Sanqo to give us the best odds of success.”
"They raise valid concerns, Paxilche,” says Pomaqli, reflecting on the responses. “Our path is fraught with uncertainty and danger. Yet the alternative—standing by as Saxina and the Eye in the Flame consume what’s left of our dignity—is no path at all. If we proceed, it must be with unity, clarity, and a readiness to face the consequences of our actions. Qiapu and Sanqo standing together could be a powerful symbol. We must ensure it’s one of hope, not further division.”
“I’m all for a good brawl, especially one with stakes as high as these,” Naqispi chimes in. “But let’s not kid ourselves into thinking this is a simple overthrow. Saxina’s got the palace, the guards, and likely a good number of Qiapu’s citizens convinced he’s their savior. Convincing people to turn against him will be as tricky as convincing a snake to bite its tail. You’ve got a plan for that?”
It’s a fair point, and the Qiapu aren’t likely to turn against one deemed chosen by Aqxilapu. And while I can’t place a finger on it, I believe the Eye in the Flame had a hand in Saxina’s selection, though that will be impossible to prove without direct evidence. It’ll require much effort, but I believe I know a path we can take to accomplish this.
“We must point out what Saxina has done since becoming the Tempered, which is genuinely little,” I say. “People at the mines and forgeries have been overworked, and the military Saxina has accumulated was seemingly nowhere to be found as the Eye in the Flame marched up to the palace. He let Pichaqta burn with nary a defense to be found. In fact, if it wasn’t for Walumaq, a Sanqo outsider, the tide of the battle may not have turned at all, and the palace would be in ruins. Is that the ruler our people support?”
Chiqama strokes his chin, then grunts in agreement. “The strategy to gather more evidence and witness testimonies seems sound. Though I still reserve some hesitation, I will acknowledge that it can bolster our credibility and perhaps sway those who remain undecided. However, tread carefully, as gathering such information without alerting Saxina or his supporters will be a delicate task. And as for convincing your citizens, emphasizing Saxina’s failures during crucial times could indeed open their eyes to the truth.”
Pomaqli nods assuredly. “While the connection to the Eye in the Flame is shaky at best, the story around Saxina’s rule is one we can challenge with facts and the testimonies of those who’ve suffered under his indifference. His inaction during the attack, and the reliance on external forces like Walumaq, speaks greatly. It’s evident we’re fighting for Qiapu’s very existence. This isn’t just about deposing Saxina; it’s about awakening Qiapu to the leaders they truly deserve. We’ll need to be strategic in our approach, ensuring our message resonates with those who’ve felt the strain of Saxina’s rule the most.”
“And I’ll confess that I’m reluctant to risk so many Sanqo warriors for an external affair,” Atoyaqtli acknowledges. “However, the proposition to strengthen our forces with Qiapu-made weapons in exchange for our support is intriguing. This gesture could form a new era of cooperation between Sanqo and Qiapu, beyond the current conflict. I will need to discuss this with our leader, Siunqi, but your plan presents a compelling case for our alliance.”
Just as those gathered come to an agreement about the way forward, Iachaqe appears alongside Saxina, as though summoned by our conspiratorial conversation. He emerges from one of the numerous halls inside the palace, his jaw tightly clinched as he silently approaches us. My throat dries, and there’s a palpable tension in the air as his intense presence commands the space.
“Those are the deceptive people I spoke of!” the young Qiapu guard shouts, pointing to Pomaqli and me.
“This is an unusual gathering in my halls,” he says with a facade of calm as he addresses the group. “Qiapu’s loyal soldier, Pomaqli, consorting with warriors from Sanqo. To what do we owe this… collaboration?” His eyes narrow as they fix upon Pomaqli and me, and if they were daggers, they would pierce into our chests. Then, he disdainfully looks over the Sanqo warriors. “Besides, Paxilche, I believe I told you to never step foot on these grounds ever again. It’ll be a shame to execute the guards who allowed you to enter. Again.”
It would be fair to assume that the ruler of our people should instill fear upon every inferior commoner that stands before him. Yet that doesn’t happen to me. I stand in defiance of his attempt at intimidation, knowing the type of sniveling, weak-spined leader he truly is. Perhaps there would have been a time when I would’ve allowed him to domineer me. That time is no longer.
“The urgency of our situation deems it necessary,” I say, staring directly back into his scornful eyes. “I trust you value the protection of Qiapu over maintaining a grudge.”
Saxina’s expression darkens like the sky of an incoming storm. “Your ‘urgency’ trespasses not only palace grounds, but also the boundaries of loyalty and respect. You take unnecessary risk with your life as well as those of your newfound allies.”
Undaunted, I snap back, “The boundaries of loyalty and respect you speak of have been crossed not by us, but by a ruler who forsakes his people for power. If Aqxilapu selected you to lead our people, then I question the values of the very deity we worship. Your ‘protection’ of Qiapu seems more a stranglehold than a safeguard.”
“Bold words from one who has no claim to leadership,” Saxina retorts, visibly irked by my statement. “You speak of forsaking people, yet here you are, stirring dissent, endangering the very core of our society. Your accusations lack substance, as does your understanding of what it takes to rule. If I didn’t feel such pity for someone suffering from grief, I’d have you executed on the spot for your insolence.”
He continues to threaten my execution, yet fails to act upon it. Could it be due to the outsiders in our presence? Or a general cowardice? Perhaps he speaks tough, yet he is all bluster.
I step forward, challenging Saxina directly, “My understanding of leadership comes from a commitment to serve, not a desire to rule—something my brother, Limaqumtlia, knew all too well, and something you’ve long abandoned. Qiapu deserves a leader who sees beyond the throne. A leader who sees people as the beating heart of our land.”
Saxina laughs contemptibly. “Serve? A noble sentiment, yet naïvely misplaced. Leadership demands strength, decisiveness, and sometimes, isolation. These are traits you lack, traits you cannot comprehend. You spurned your chance at becoming the Tempered because you are weak, undeserving. Then again, perhaps you understood that Aqxilapu would never choose you to lead because you are the furthest thing from a leader on Pachil.”
“Perhaps it’s you who cannot comprehend, Saxina,” I say. “For every leader who sought to rule through fear and isolation, history remembers their fall. The factions of Pachil with thrive in a world where fear is replaced by hope, where isolation is replaced by unity.”
Saxina guffaws as his gaze then falls upon the Sanqo warriors. “And you, aligning with a known dissenter. Do you understand the implications of your actions here? How this will reflect upon the Sanqo reputation?”
Maintaining his composed demeanor, Atoyaqtli meets Saxina’s accusatory gaze with a measured look. “Tempered, our presence in Pichaqta is solely because we were sent on behalf of our leader, Siunqi, with a singular mission: to safely return Princess Walumaq to Sanqo. We are in your halls as a testament to our concern for her safety and well-being. This is not a declaration of our stance in Qiapu’s internal affairs. The Qiapu can sort that out for themselves.”
“Walumaq, you say?” Saxina asks, his suspicion is momentarily wavered by his piqued curiosity. “Her actions and those of her companions here have stirred much talk. To think, the princess herself, traveling all this way, for such… noble endeavors. It’s intriguing how the fates of our lands are intertwined through her actions.”
Atoyaqtli and the others begin to stir, appearing restless. “It is strictly duty that brings us here. The threats Walumaq seeks to eliminate are the same that endanger Qiapu, Sanqo, and the rest of our continent. Our allegiance is to our people and to Pachil. As I’ve already said,” he speaks these words slowly to punctuate his point, “the Sanqo have no interest in internal Qiapu affairs.”
“Duty and allegiance are commendable,” Saxina says with a slight, knowing smirk, “yet navigating these treacherous waters requires caution and wisdom. Not all threats wear the face of an enemy. So tread carefully, Sanqo warrior.”
“And some threats disguise themselves as leaders, claiming to protect while they bind us in chains,” I add, maintaining my stare at Saxina. “Our stand is against those who would see Qiapu, and all of Pachil, fall into darkness.”
Saxina’s laugh is cold and devoid of humor as he ominously says, “Consider this a warning. The path you choose today is irrevocable.”
The palace guards begin to file in, standing tall and proudly next to their leader. Their blank, focused expressions feign determination, but I can tell they’re merely following Saxina without any consideration. They don’t yet know what he’s done to possess this power, but they soon will. And in due time, we’ll see how strong their loyalty truly is.
“I will apprehend them, my Tempered!” Iachaqe declares, rushing toward Pomaqli and me. Perhaps I underestimated the young man. Perhaps I underestimated Saxina. The Sanqo warriors watch the events unfold with both perplexity and disbelief. The newly arrived guards appear confused, hesitating to support Iachaqe as he makes his effort to arrest us. It’s then that Atoyaqtli steps between us and the young guard, crossing his arms and staring intensely in provocation. Out of the corner of my eye, the other three Sanqo warriors rest their hands on their weapons, prepared to engage in a confrontation.
Saxina smirks, seemingly finding this scene amusing. He encourages Iachaqe to continue, as if expecting the Sanqo warriors to back down. When they don’t, however, the grin is quickly wiped off his face. The other guards continue to plant themselves against the walls like vines, refusing to step in and support their compatriot.
“Young warrior,” Atoyaqtli says in a stern, almost scolding tone, “this order is unjust. A person is to be executed for simply speaking out against a ruler? That’s how this command to prevent these two Qiapu men from stepping upon palace grounds began, correct? You’re willing to uphold such an indefensible rule?” Though he continues speaking to Iachaqe, his eyes fall upon Saxina as he continues. “This sounds of oppression, not liberty. I was under the impression we fought against the Timuaq to prevent such cruelty from resurfacing.”
A low chuckle escapes Atoyaqtli’s lips as he stands unflinching before Saxina. “Hollow threats from a hollow ruler. We’ve seen the true face of courage today, and it isn’t yours, Tempered.” His gaze sweeps the assembly of guards, his contempt for their loyalty unmistakable. “Remember, warriors of Qiapu, the true measure of allegiance lies in the welfare of your people.” The palace guards exchange confused glances at one another before returning their focus on the outsiders.
The guards shift their weight and glance at one another, feeling apprehensive as the situation develops. The other Sanqo warriors march to their leader’s side, standing tall and prepared to challenge Saxina’s authority. I glance over to Pomaqli, whose face is cold and expressionless as he steadies himself with calm and slow breathing, maintaining his focus on Saxina. Saxina clinches his jaw as protruding veins in his strained neck emerge. His eyes dart about the Sanqo warriors, then to Pomaqli and me. After a few dozen heartbeats, he calls off our arrest with the abrupt wave of his hand. Confused, Iachaqe oscillates as his conflicted emotions—to carry out the original order or stand down—wage a battle in his mind. Ultimately, he returns to Saxina, looking down, defeated.
Pomaqli, ever the stoic, nods toward the palace gates. “Let’s move,” he says, his voice low, a command rather than a suggestion. “We have a long journey ahead, and little time for the theatrics of a desperate ruler.” Bolstered by Atoyaqtli’s audacity, the group begins to move away from the gathering tension, our steps echoing in the vast, stone corridor.
Unable to resist, I glance back to see Saxina pointing a finger at Pomaqli and me, his face a mask of controlled rage. “You two,” he spits out, “are marked for death should you dare return to these grounds again!”
We don’t dignify his insipid threat with a response. Instead, we continue our departure, leaving the empty echoes of Saxina’s anger behind us. The palace guards watch us leave, but make no move to follow. Perhaps it’s a silent testament to Saxina’s failing grip.
As we step out into the fading light, the reality of our undertaking settles in. Once a symbol of unity and strength, the palace now stands as a reminder of the division and darkness that creeps into Qiapu. Perhaps I was a fool to expect anything greater than what I’ve already encountered with Saxina, believing he may see the error in his ways. I must leave any hope I have for him behind now. Among those gathered alongside me, I’ve found true allies to fight this looming evil that threatens my people and all of Pachil. There’s a resolve within us, a shared purpose that binds our diverse group together.
“Our first step is to reach Qespina safely,” Chiqama calculates. “We’ll need to avoid the main roads—Saxina’s reach may extend further than we anticipate.”
Naqispi chuckles. “I’d rather face a horde of Saxina’s lackeys than sit through another one of his speeches,” he quips, earning an eye roll from Pomacha, but a smirk from the rest of us.
Atoyaqtli glances back at the palace, then to us. “Saxina underestimates the will of those he seeks to control. The cracks in his rulership are visible already. Let him have his palace; you will take the hearts of the people.”
As we move forward to Qespina, the palace shrinking in the distance, I feel a sense of clarity. The journey ahead is fraught with peril, but in this moment of solidarity, I find a deep well of hope. Built on fear and deception, Saxina’s rule has only united us further. The road to confronting the darkness that threatens our lands will be long and uncertain, but together, we’ve taken a significant step towards a future where light might once again shine on Qiapu and all of Pachil.
The five men stare back at me as though I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have.
“So, you’re proposing treason,” Pomaqli says, pausing to comprehend the words he just spoke.
“What I’m proposing, is a chance for Qiapu to redeem itself and escape the clutches of a self-serving ruler.”
“With Sanqo warriors,” the warrior called Naqispi says. “And I take it without your neck on the line.”
“It’s a chance for both Qiapu and Sanqo to redeem themselves,” I argue. “Qiapu is falling into the clutches of a ruler who has made a bargain with an evil cult and can be saved, while the Sanqo–“
“What about Sanqo?” the brawny Pomacha asks, eyes narrowed.
Naqispi joins in. “Yes, enlighten us as to how we should be seeking redemption?”
I can sense this conversation, and my proposal, slipping away in the face of their skepticism. I’ll need a different approach, one that is steady and unwavering, yet addresses their concerns.
“Allow me to clarify,” I begin, taking a deep breath and fighting to remain poised. “What I propose is a united stand against a common enemy: The Eye in the Flame. You can see the destruction they wrought here at the palace. And as Lady Walumaq informed me, your people had encounters with their kind during your time in Chalaqta. This cult is a blight not just on Qiapu or Sanqo, but on the heart of Pachil itself. By aligning ourselves, even temporarily, we can protect our lands, our people, and our sovereignty.”
Though they take my words into consideration, reluctance still remains on the warriors’ faces. I must continue to stress the importance of this united front. “The Sanqo are known across the lands for their indomitable spirit and fierce independence. Your people’s strength and resilience are renowned. I have immense respect for that. But in the face of a threat that disregards borders, that aims to subjugate all under a reign of terror, isolated resistance is like a lone canoe against a raging current. Together, we can present a formidable alliance, one that can safeguard the dignity and sovereignty of all our people. And the Sanqo can be the vital factor in all of this, one that the rest of the continent would have to acknowledge and respect.”
“And where does your ruler play a part in all of this?” Naqispi asks.
Hearing his question, there’s a noticeable shift in the men’s posture as they now lean in closer. I swallow the nervous lump down my throat and address both the mounting concern and need for urgency in this common purpose. “Our ruler has betrayed us, making a pact with these dark zealots.”
Surprise and alarm overtake their expressions as I continue, “He and his supporters have lost their way. To show that no external force can dictate the fate of our lands, we must unite in strength and purpose. Our factions have already stood tall against those who would see our cultures erased. Let us stand together once more as allies, defending Pachil from a darkness that seeks to consume us whole.”
“But why should we trust you?” one of the Sanqo warriors asks—this question coming from Chiqama. He steps forward, his gaze piercing. “We don’t seek redemption in the eyes of Pachil’s factions. Our concern is for Sanqo alone.”
“I don’t speak of redemption as an outsider’s judgement, but as an opportunity,” I answer. “It’s a chance for Sanqo to redefine themselves on their own terms. To show Pachil that the Sanqo are not relics of the past, but vital members in its future.”
The Sanqo warriors exchange glances as a silent conversation ripples through their ranks. This moment feels as pivotal as the turn of the tides, where the course of rivers can shift and carve new paths through the landscape.
“Chiqama speaks true,” Atoyaqtli, the presumed leader of these brave warriors, says flatly. ”Your words speak of unity, but they also carry the scent of desperation. Why should the Sanqo cast their lot with you? What do you offer that can outweigh the risks we bear by joining this rebellion?”
“What I offer is a vision where the Sanqo step out from the shadows of their past,” I reply, ready to lay bare the essence of my plea. “Where your strength and courage are recognized as a potent, living force of Pachil’s survival. Where your people are not castaways on an island, but invaluable to our continent’s future. You have the power to change the story. This is about forging a new legacy, one where the Sanqo are revered for the light they can bring during our darkest times.”
“That’s a sweet sentiment, Paxilche,” Pomaqli says, pacing around those of us gathered in this hall. “But it sounds dangerously close to treason. Our duty is to Qiapu. The Tempered is the one chosen by Aqxilapu to guide our people to prosperity. To go against that would be to go against our god!”
“Our duty is indeed to Qiapu,” I respond. “You know as well as I do that the title of Tempered should not be a cloak for tyranny. What I learned from Saxina—what he revealed without speaking directly—is that his alliance with the Eye in the Flame serves only his ambitions, not the welfare of Qiapu or the decree of Aqxilapu.”
Pomaqli looks astonished. “You’re basing this plan on speculation?”
“Saxina will never give us a direct answer,” I say. “It’s what’s spoken in the silences that told me all I needed to know.”
Pomaqli scoffs at this, but I continue. “To follow Saxina blindly is to betray the very essence of what Qiapu stands for. Aqxilapu champions strength, wisdom, and the prosperity of our people, not subjugation under dark forces for personal gain. You’ve seen for yourself that there’s a connection between the Eye in the Flame and my brother’s death—the same people with whom Saxina is aligning. If standing against such betrayal is treason, then it’s a title I’ll wear with honor, for it’s in true service to Qiapu and its people.”
Pomaqli halts his pacing as he deliberates over my words. With his voice tinged in a mixture of defiance and doubt, he asks, “And what of our oath to the Tempered?”
“What about our oath to the Tempered?” I state, stepping in closer to him. “Our oath is to the spirit of Qiapu, not to a man who would see it fall for his own rise. The greatest leaders in our history were those who dared to challenge the status quo when it strayed from the path of righteousness. Saxina has strayed far, far from that path.”
The men stare at me contemplatively, recognizing the severity of possible outcomes our actions may have. Undeterred, I say to the group, “We stand at a crossroads, gentlemen. Down one path lies blind loyalty to a corrupted ruler. Down the other, a difficult journey towards true leadership and redemption for Qiapu, to finally rebuild toward a prosperous future. I choose the latter. And I hope, for the sake of our people, you will too.”
The hall falls silent. Something fundamental shifts in their understanding of duty and loyalty, I can sense it. Pomaqli’s expression softens as the realization strikes him. I steady myself, hoping I’ve exuded enough confidence to sway them to my side. It’s a tremendous ask, and even though these Sanqo warriors are not the men who literally make the decisions for Sanqo, they will ultimately decide their faction’s fate if they’re convinced my cause is worthy.
“What is it you propose?” Atoyaqtli eventually asks, his voice laced with hesitation.
“We will need to amass an army here in Qiapu to pair with the Sanqo warriors, ensuring we have the numbers to take on those who will defend Saxina. With Saxina as the ruler, it will be difficult to separate the loyalists from those who understand that, in order to protect Qiapu, we must depose this tyrant. We should approach them with the acknowledgment that they are not defecting, but instead putting a stop to the evil that plagues not just Qiapu, but all of Pachil.”
“Except we’ll need evidence of Saxina’s involvement with the Eye in the Flame,” Pomaqli notes. “Nobody will support us if we can’t support this claim.”
“But we have evidence. Saxina declared the Eye in the Flame as the enemy and begun forcing people into military recruitment, yet no swift actions have been taken against them. In fact, the cult struck us again first. We can also point to Amalu, his trusted advisor, who possessed items that directly linked him to the Eye in the Flame and was known for his manipulation of the guards’ ranks the day my brother was assassinated.”
“Your evidence hinges on circumstantial ties and second-hand accounts,” Chiqama says. “Have you considered seeking out direct witnesses or documentation that could unequivocally tie Saxina to the Eye in the Flame? Without concrete evidence, you risk turning potential allies into skeptics.”
“Although there is circumstantial evidence, this is just a start,” I respond. “There may be those within the military or palace guards who either have additional information or can give testimonies to such suspicious behavior. We’ve already had guards discuss the regular schedule Amalu himself kept, leaving him ripe for his murder, and what was found in his chambers. These details alone raise enough questions about Saxina’s potential complicity with the Eye in the Flame. Though Pomaqli, Walumaq, and I have encountered such people, we will certainly need to not only have them join their voices to ours, but seek out more witnesses. This is something Pomaqli, with his strong connections to officials of the palace guard and military, should be able to obtain.”
Atoyaqtli frowns. “A formidable plan, but what you ask of Sanqo is a heavy lift. Aligning with Qiapu against a Tempered, even one so dubious as Saxina, is a grand gesture of trust—trust that has been thin on these lands for generations. What assurances can you provide that our involvement won’t be seen as another act of aggression by Sanqo? Our history is fraught with misinterpretation. We seek reconciliation, not further conflict.”
I nod, recognizing his concerns. The Sanqo have been frowned upon for generations, and with their recent diplomatic efforts, I can understand how assisting a faction with overthrowing their ruler could be perceived. “Perhaps we will need to start by ensuring we have the numbers in Qiapu to make a formidable stand against Saxina and his loyalists, then come to Sanqo leadership to request their aid in deposing him. For their allegiance, we should be able to craft enough weapons to provide to the Sanqo to give us the best odds of success.”
"They raise valid concerns, Paxilche,” says Pomaqli, reflecting on the responses. “Our path is fraught with uncertainty and danger. Yet the alternative—standing by as Saxina and the Eye in the Flame consume what’s left of our dignity—is no path at all. If we proceed, it must be with unity, clarity, and a readiness to face the consequences of our actions. Qiapu and Sanqo standing together could be a powerful symbol. We must ensure it’s one of hope, not further division.”
“I’m all for a good brawl, especially one with stakes as high as these,” Naqispi chimes in. “But let’s not kid ourselves into thinking this is a simple overthrow. Saxina’s got the palace, the guards, and likely a good number of Qiapu’s citizens convinced he’s their savior. Convincing people to turn against him will be as tricky as convincing a snake to bite its tail. You’ve got a plan for that?”
It’s a fair point, and the Qiapu aren’t likely to turn against one deemed chosen by Aqxilapu. And while I can’t place a finger on it, I believe the Eye in the Flame had a hand in Saxina’s selection, though that will be impossible to prove without direct evidence. It’ll require much effort, but I believe I know a path we can take to accomplish this.
“We must point out what Saxina has done since becoming the Tempered, which is genuinely little,” I say. “People at the mines and forgeries have been overworked, and the military Saxina has accumulated was seemingly nowhere to be found as the Eye in the Flame marched up to the palace. He let Pichaqta burn with nary a defense to be found. In fact, if it wasn’t for Walumaq, a Sanqo outsider, the tide of the battle may not have turned at all, and the palace would be in ruins. Is that the ruler our people support?”
Chiqama strokes his chin, then grunts in agreement. “The strategy to gather more evidence and witness testimonies seems sound. Though I still reserve some hesitation, I will acknowledge that it can bolster our credibility and perhaps sway those who remain undecided. However, tread carefully, as gathering such information without alerting Saxina or his supporters will be a delicate task. And as for convincing your citizens, emphasizing Saxina’s failures during crucial times could indeed open their eyes to the truth.”
Pomaqli nods assuredly. “While the connection to the Eye in the Flame is shaky at best, the story around Saxina’s rule is one we can challenge with facts and the testimonies of those who’ve suffered under his indifference. His inaction during the attack, and the reliance on external forces like Walumaq, speaks greatly. It’s evident we’re fighting for Qiapu’s very existence. This isn’t just about deposing Saxina; it’s about awakening Qiapu to the leaders they truly deserve. We’ll need to be strategic in our approach, ensuring our message resonates with those who’ve felt the strain of Saxina’s rule the most.”
“And I’ll confess that I’m reluctant to risk so many Sanqo warriors for an external affair,” Atoyaqtli acknowledges. “However, the proposition to strengthen our forces with Qiapu-made weapons in exchange for our support is intriguing. This gesture could form a new era of cooperation between Sanqo and Qiapu, beyond the current conflict. I will need to discuss this with our leader, Siunqi, but your plan presents a compelling case for our alliance.”
Just as those gathered come to an agreement about the way forward, Iachaqe appears alongside Saxina, as though summoned by our conspiratorial conversation. He emerges from one of the numerous halls inside the palace, his jaw tightly clinched as he silently approaches us. My throat dries, and there’s a palpable tension in the air as his intense presence commands the space.
“Those are the deceptive people I spoke of!” the young Qiapu guard shouts, pointing to Pomaqli and me.
“This is an unusual gathering in my halls,” he says with a facade of calm as he addresses the group. “Qiapu’s loyal soldier, Pomaqli, consorting with warriors from Sanqo. To what do we owe this… collaboration?” His eyes narrow as they fix upon Pomaqli and me, and if they were daggers, they would pierce into our chests. Then, he disdainfully looks over the Sanqo warriors. “Besides, Paxilche, I believe I told you to never step foot on these grounds ever again. It’ll be a shame to execute the guards who allowed you to enter. Again.”
It would be fair to assume that the ruler of our people should instill fear upon every inferior commoner that stands before him. Yet that doesn’t happen to me. I stand in defiance of his attempt at intimidation, knowing the type of sniveling, weak-spined leader he truly is. Perhaps there would have been a time when I would’ve allowed him to domineer me. That time is no longer.
“The urgency of our situation deems it necessary,” I say, staring directly back into his scornful eyes. “I trust you value the protection of Qiapu over maintaining a grudge.”
Saxina’s expression darkens like the sky of an incoming storm. “Your ‘urgency’ trespasses not only palace grounds, but also the boundaries of loyalty and respect. You take unnecessary risk with your life as well as those of your newfound allies.”
Undaunted, I snap back, “The boundaries of loyalty and respect you speak of have been crossed not by us, but by a ruler who forsakes his people for power. If Aqxilapu selected you to lead our people, then I question the values of the very deity we worship. Your ‘protection’ of Qiapu seems more a stranglehold than a safeguard.”
“Bold words from one who has no claim to leadership,” Saxina retorts, visibly irked by my statement. “You speak of forsaking people, yet here you are, stirring dissent, endangering the very core of our society. Your accusations lack substance, as does your understanding of what it takes to rule. If I didn’t feel such pity for someone suffering from grief, I’d have you executed on the spot for your insolence.”
He continues to threaten my execution, yet fails to act upon it. Could it be due to the outsiders in our presence? Or a general cowardice? Perhaps he speaks tough, yet he is all bluster.
I step forward, challenging Saxina directly, “My understanding of leadership comes from a commitment to serve, not a desire to rule—something my brother, Limaqumtlia, knew all too well, and something you’ve long abandoned. Qiapu deserves a leader who sees beyond the throne. A leader who sees people as the beating heart of our land.”
Saxina laughs contemptibly. “Serve? A noble sentiment, yet naïvely misplaced. Leadership demands strength, decisiveness, and sometimes, isolation. These are traits you lack, traits you cannot comprehend. You spurned your chance at becoming the Tempered because you are weak, undeserving. Then again, perhaps you understood that Aqxilapu would never choose you to lead because you are the furthest thing from a leader on Pachil.”
“Perhaps it’s you who cannot comprehend, Saxina,” I say. “For every leader who sought to rule through fear and isolation, history remembers their fall. The factions of Pachil with thrive in a world where fear is replaced by hope, where isolation is replaced by unity.”
Saxina guffaws as his gaze then falls upon the Sanqo warriors. “And you, aligning with a known dissenter. Do you understand the implications of your actions here? How this will reflect upon the Sanqo reputation?”
Maintaining his composed demeanor, Atoyaqtli meets Saxina’s accusatory gaze with a measured look. “Tempered, our presence in Pichaqta is solely because we were sent on behalf of our leader, Siunqi, with a singular mission: to safely return Princess Walumaq to Sanqo. We are in your halls as a testament to our concern for her safety and well-being. This is not a declaration of our stance in Qiapu’s internal affairs. The Qiapu can sort that out for themselves.”
“Walumaq, you say?” Saxina asks, his suspicion is momentarily wavered by his piqued curiosity. “Her actions and those of her companions here have stirred much talk. To think, the princess herself, traveling all this way, for such… noble endeavors. It’s intriguing how the fates of our lands are intertwined through her actions.”
Atoyaqtli and the others begin to stir, appearing restless. “It is strictly duty that brings us here. The threats Walumaq seeks to eliminate are the same that endanger Qiapu, Sanqo, and the rest of our continent. Our allegiance is to our people and to Pachil. As I’ve already said,” he speaks these words slowly to punctuate his point, “the Sanqo have no interest in internal Qiapu affairs.”
“Duty and allegiance are commendable,” Saxina says with a slight, knowing smirk, “yet navigating these treacherous waters requires caution and wisdom. Not all threats wear the face of an enemy. So tread carefully, Sanqo warrior.”
“And some threats disguise themselves as leaders, claiming to protect while they bind us in chains,” I add, maintaining my stare at Saxina. “Our stand is against those who would see Qiapu, and all of Pachil, fall into darkness.”
Saxina’s laugh is cold and devoid of humor as he ominously says, “Consider this a warning. The path you choose today is irrevocable.”
The palace guards begin to file in, standing tall and proudly next to their leader. Their blank, focused expressions feign determination, but I can tell they’re merely following Saxina without any consideration. They don’t yet know what he’s done to possess this power, but they soon will. And in due time, we’ll see how strong their loyalty truly is.
“I will apprehend them, my Tempered!” Iachaqe declares, rushing toward Pomaqli and me. Perhaps I underestimated the young man. Perhaps I underestimated Saxina. The Sanqo warriors watch the events unfold with both perplexity and disbelief. The newly arrived guards appear confused, hesitating to support Iachaqe as he makes his effort to arrest us. It’s then that Atoyaqtli steps between us and the young guard, crossing his arms and staring intensely in provocation. Out of the corner of my eye, the other three Sanqo warriors rest their hands on their weapons, prepared to engage in a confrontation.
Saxina smirks, seemingly finding this scene amusing. He encourages Iachaqe to continue, as if expecting the Sanqo warriors to back down. When they don’t, however, the grin is quickly wiped off his face. The other guards continue to plant themselves against the walls like vines, refusing to step in and support their compatriot.
“Young warrior,” Atoyaqtli says in a stern, almost scolding tone, “this order is unjust. A person is to be executed for simply speaking out against a ruler? That’s how this command to prevent these two Qiapu men from stepping upon palace grounds began, correct? You’re willing to uphold such an indefensible rule?” Though he continues speaking to Iachaqe, his eyes fall upon Saxina as he continues. “This sounds of oppression, not liberty. I was under the impression we fought against the Timuaq to prevent such cruelty from resurfacing.”
A low chuckle escapes Atoyaqtli’s lips as he stands unflinching before Saxina. “Hollow threats from a hollow ruler. We’ve seen the true face of courage today, and it isn’t yours, Tempered.” His gaze sweeps the assembly of guards, his contempt for their loyalty unmistakable. “Remember, warriors of Qiapu, the true measure of allegiance lies in the welfare of your people.” The palace guards exchange confused glances at one another before returning their focus on the outsiders.
The guards shift their weight and glance at one another, feeling apprehensive as the situation develops. The other Sanqo warriors march to their leader’s side, standing tall and prepared to challenge Saxina’s authority. I glance over to Pomaqli, whose face is cold and expressionless as he steadies himself with calm and slow breathing, maintaining his focus on Saxina. Saxina clinches his jaw as protruding veins in his strained neck emerge. His eyes dart about the Sanqo warriors, then to Pomaqli and me. After a few dozen heartbeats, he calls off our arrest with the abrupt wave of his hand. Confused, Iachaqe oscillates as his conflicted emotions—to carry out the original order or stand down—wage a battle in his mind. Ultimately, he returns to Saxina, looking down, defeated.
Pomaqli, ever the stoic, nods toward the palace gates. “Let’s move,” he says, his voice low, a command rather than a suggestion. “We have a long journey ahead, and little time for the theatrics of a desperate ruler.” Bolstered by Atoyaqtli’s audacity, the group begins to move away from the gathering tension, our steps echoing in the vast, stone corridor.
Unable to resist, I glance back to see Saxina pointing a finger at Pomaqli and me, his face a mask of controlled rage. “You two,” he spits out, “are marked for death should you dare return to these grounds again!”
We don’t dignify his insipid threat with a response. Instead, we continue our departure, leaving the empty echoes of Saxina’s anger behind us. The palace guards watch us leave, but make no move to follow. Perhaps it’s a silent testament to Saxina’s failing grip.
As we step out into the fading light, the reality of our undertaking settles in. Once a symbol of unity and strength, the palace now stands as a reminder of the division and darkness that creeps into Qiapu. Perhaps I was a fool to expect anything greater than what I’ve already encountered with Saxina, believing he may see the error in his ways. I must leave any hope I have for him behind now. Among those gathered alongside me, I’ve found true allies to fight this looming evil that threatens my people and all of Pachil. There’s a resolve within us, a shared purpose that binds our diverse group together.
“Our first step is to reach Qespina safely,” Chiqama calculates. “We’ll need to avoid the main roads—Saxina’s reach may extend further than we anticipate.”
Naqispi chuckles. “I’d rather face a horde of Saxina’s lackeys than sit through another one of his speeches,” he quips, earning an eye roll from Pomacha, but a smirk from the rest of us.
Atoyaqtli glances back at the palace, then to us. “Saxina underestimates the will of those he seeks to control. The cracks in his rulership are visible already. Let him have his palace; you will take the hearts of the people.”
As we move forward to Qespina, the palace shrinking in the distance, I feel a sense of clarity. The journey ahead is fraught with peril, but in this moment of solidarity, I find a deep well of hope. Built on fear and deception, Saxina’s rule has only united us further. The road to confronting the darkness that threatens our lands will be long and uncertain, but together, we’ve taken a significant step towards a future where light might once again shine on Qiapu and all of Pachil.
