The sound of Yahmajô̗ Alą̧̄utl. If he could place his ear down on the sandy surface, he could feel the vibration of footsteps, the bleat of the camels, and the surrounding chatter. Each sand grain told a story from a thousand winds ago. He would know right away when the customers were approaching, or the angle to grab a fish from the river.
“Oy, Suruj. The PPA testing starts soon. Don’t be late,” Suruj’s teacher bonked his head with a newspaper. “Hurry if you want to get into the university.”
He snapped back from his trance. Suruj fastened his school bag around his shoulder, fixed his tie, and walked into the school entrance.
“Neh, aren't your parents worried about you?” Suruj was staring out the window from the hospital. He could feel the salty breeze from the sea.
“Mr. Zundui, I hope one is aware that I am twenty-four years old. My father, the Guizu of the Laoyuang House has left me to my own devices, and as for my mother…” Kwazhak took a relaxing breath. “She was a concubine of my father. However, when the Xinggong scholars found out that she was one of the survivors of the Maák-Khoitan tribe, she received capital punishment.”
“That’s… It was because she was a Khoitan?”
“The Khoitan people have been oppressed for centuries, but everyone forgets their roots. All peoples were one, all Khoitan. We were nomads that wandered the two continents. Until some tribes decided to settle down and build a community. Those communities turned into towns, those towns into cities, and those cities into metropolises. Our hair darkened. Distinct cultures developed.”
They didn’t teach those in secondary schools. He had heard that only the scholars who had access to the national archives knew about the early history of this world. Archaeology was a rising field, and it wasn’t long before they unearthed the scrolls of Ragye from the Divine Lakes. The Pangulo of Buhanggilog, Antonio Tovar, ordered a censorship of the news, but it was already too late.
Stolen story; please report.
“So that’s why I have a Khoit surname?...” Suruj picked up a pamphlet from the small literature stand below. He was curious to read Azu, but it turned out to be a curse.
> Spring Seasons Brothel
>
> ‘We sell the spring season to you!’
>
> Finest girls of the two continents
>
> Visit our branches at Wakoku ‘Basad, Rümqî ‘Autónoma, Dyak-ar-salaam ‘Basad, Malaya ng Luzokapital ‘Autónoma, Al-Qarakh ‘Aimag
His eyes stopped at ‘sell the spring season’. In the Azu language, that was ‘haru wo uru’.
“When our ward was reduced to ash, there was nothing. I had no choice but to ‘sell the seasons’.”
‘Sell the seasons’. ‘Kisetsu wo uru’. Suruj felt a wave of anxiety through his bones. He realized something that he wanted to forget. But he didn’t want to confirm it. But he had to.
“Kwazhak… what does ‘haru wo uru’ mean?...” His voice shook. The booklet dropped to the floor.
“Hmm,” He pondered, scratching his chin, “To sell the spring season. It’s a literary expression for prostitution.”
“And why are you asking that?” L calmly crossed his arms, picking the paper up. “Oh…”
“I think I’ll head back… Where did the others go? Did they leave the hospital already?” Suruj asked. He had been tricked again. The false smiles. The sly words.
“Use your sahar to find them,” L answered, “I know you can only use one spell, but if you can only use one spell, then stretch it to the limit. Find a way to utilize it in any situation. That Daigdig of yours is more useful than you think. It is like a flat windmill. Whatever direction the wind blows, it will always rotate to catch it.”
But he always used it for offensive purposes, Suruj thought. Then the day where the girl and him escaped from the boat floated into his mind. First, he activated the spell through a quiet chant. Suruj could feel the sea of clouds, saharic particles cloaking his body. He sorted through the variety of movements, voices that the ground reacted with. The floor began to crack beneath him.
“Ahahaha! Nananalo na ako ‘to eh! Ang dalu ng timpalak!”
Perez. Suruj moved back, and jumped out the window. Coming to support him, a large dirt mound rose up to meet with his feet, boosting him up into the air.