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The sun's descent matches the weight in my heart, a cascade of words unraveling a story I’m not prepared to share. The three of us step into a hidden, secluded clearing, separate from the rest of the men who are under the command of this ‘Qumuna’. He is a large man, and though very seasoned, still possesses a well-toned body with broad shoulders. ‘Paxilche’, on the other hand, is lean, but nowhere close to the fitness of the other warriors. Both men have straight, medium-length black hair, and where Qumuna’s is tied up in a tidy bun behind his head, Paxilche’s hair hangs unhindered. Everyone present wears white and red, easily identified as Qiapu colors, although Qumuna and his men are highly decorated with numerous wooden beads of red, yellow, blue, and green worn on necklaces, while the man I first encountered wears simple wool clothing, the thread looking soft and fibrous.

Having never before met anyone from Qiapu, an interesting trait I find is their abundance of tattoos and piercings, which, I assume, is representative of certain achievements or status—I’ll have to inquire about this when I’m not being interrogated for suspicion of… doing something offensive or suspicious of which I’m unaware. Marked with various geometric shapes, Qumuna’s arms are almost entirely black, and he wears an abundance of gold and obsidian piercings. Though still tattooed, Paxilche wears a small number of gold rings that line his ears, and his markings only descend just above his elbows, unlike the other warriors serving Qumuna, who have both arms fully decorated.

“Upon the Arbiter's messenger extending an offer for my family to play a pivotal role in developing the royal naval forces,” I say, “our scouts also alerted us to the presence of an insurgent group. Ready to engage in diplomatic discourse, we journeyed to Chalaqta to meet with Iatuq, the esteemed Voice of the Arbiter. What we thought would be a mere fact-finding mission unraveled into an unexpected revelation, unveiling far more than we had initially anticipated.”

I have to prepare myself for the next part of my explanation, recounting the terrible scenes that occurred the night I returned from meeting the crone, Xasiq. The night both my brother, Pahua, and I betrayed our family, one could say. I see Qumuna and Paxilche lean in as I pause, so I push on with the retelling of my final night in Chalaqta.

“I stumbled upon a secret meeting between some of the Tapeu nobility, plotting something sinister. The details were vague, but it involved multiple Tapeu cities—Chalaqta and the continent’s capital, Qapauma. They claimed to have multiple groups operating, coordinating efforts. Once I informed my father, Siunqi, we were about to formulate a plan, to determine the next steps while ensuring our people’s safety. We didn’t have a chance to enact it, however: That night, this terrorist organization executed a rival and his entire family. They were murdered there in the streets, gruesomely and without remorse…”

I begin to choke up when I recall the horrific scene, as well as how Pahua was misguided by his own hubris. After I calm myself down, I recognize that I should be careful about what I say, not wanting to implicate the entire Sanqo people in this betrayal by mentioning my brother’s involvement, as if we were aligning with the group of vile insurgents.

“Fearing for our safety, my father and our men fled back to Sanqo. However, seeing the horrific display, I believe I have a greater purpose here, on the continent. Knowing that this group is operating in the shadows, there has to be a way to stop them, which I hope to discover.”

“What did this organization call themselves? Do they have a name?” Qumuna begins stroking his chin as he considers what I’ve said.

“Yes, they announced themselves before they executed the family. They call themselves the Eye in the Flame. I believe they carry around a copper coin with the imprint of an eye at the base of a flame, to indicate their membership.”

I reach inside my satchel to retrieve the coin I found inside a tent on the grounds of the uli-poq court, but to my horror, it’s not to be found. I attempt to mask my panic, not wanting to alert them to the missing evidence, yet I fear what may have become of the misplaced coin and who now possess it. Instead, I carry on as if the coin was never meant as part of my recounting of events, trying my best to remain calm.

The whereabouts of the coin seems to be of little circumstance anyway: The two men turn white as a cloth at the mention of the organization’s name, as though they’ve seen an evil spirit. They briefly look at each other, only exchanging a glance, before casting their eyes to the ground or at their hands. I sense a nervous energy between them, and I wonder if I may have stumbled upon something urgent or important.

“Do you know of this Eye in the Flame?” I ask. “Are they in Qiapu, as well?”

Paxilche and Qumuna hesitate to answer me, but their silence is all the response I need. Aware of their terrible deeds in Chalaqta, I can only image what they must have done in Qiapu, and I am overwhelmed with fear at the thought that their influence has spread to multiple territories.

“So, then, how does that result in you traveling southward?” Qumuna asks, breaking the deafening silence after a long pause.

“I’m hoping to unite the people against this evil threat,” I say. “If they are this far reaching, I worry about how vast their network has already gotten, how many factions they’ve already infiltrated with their cohorts. I fear this may be only the beginning of a much larger plan.”

I hadn’t considered it before he asked, but upon reflection, perhaps this is the threat Xasiq had mentioned. Perhaps my purpose is to unify the people and defeat this horrendous group of rebels, this Eye in the Flame, so that peace can return to Pachil. Perhaps the idea that “Pachil is unstable” refers to a part of this group’s plan to sow chaos and discord across the land for their gain, whatever that may be.

The two men look gravely at the ground, then at each other. Qumuna gives Paxilche a single, slow nod, and then Paxilche turns his attention to me, licking his lips before speaking.

“This group may be responsible for the murder of my brother,” he says, much to Qumuna’s chagrin. He speaks plainly, but his solemnity is subtle. I can see him calculating what his response should be, attempting to be careful with his choice of words and not wanting to reveal too much to a stranger. “The murderer bore the same markings you mentioned, though carved into his chest.”

“That’s horrific!” I remark, mortified at the news. They have claimed yet another innocent victim, “May his spirit find eternal shores.” Paxilche accepts my offer of condolences with a bow.

“Was he also a noble, like the person executed in Chalaqta,” I ask, “or was it tangential to another terrible deed of theirs?”

“He was the ruler of our people, the Tempered,” he says. “He had only been the leader for a couple moon cycles.”

“Even more horrendous! Had he spoken out against these villains? Did he interfere with their plot in some way?”

“That is what I’m attempting to figure out,” Paxilche says. I wait for him to elaborate, but he leaves his statement at that. I’m curious—and suspicious—as to how much he’s leaving out, but rather than be offended, I empathize, knowing I, too, am withholding information, as well as understanding that it must be difficult to speak of his deceased brother, with whom I imagine he was very close.

“Do you fear for your safety, also being of the nobility?” I ask.

Paxilche chuckles, his smile bright, and he looks at Qumuna as he replies, “No, no. I wanted nothing to do with our rulership. I fought in the War of Liberation, as many did, but when it was all over, I wanted a quiet, peaceful life. I worked at an inn, which was the only work I could find that wasn’t forging weapons, farming fields, or mining ore and metals. Not my preferred profession, but what is?”

“An inn?” I ask. This word is foreign to me, having no such thing in Sanqo.

“Umm, yes,” he says, slightly thrown off by my confusion, then struggles to explain the concept. “A place for travelers to stay and rest, as well as grab a good meal and beverage. Well, perhaps not at the inn I worked at—it leaves much to be desired. But it is a pleasant-enough place for miners and blacksmiths to socialize after a hard day of labor.”

“Ah, like our taverns,” I suggest, “although we prefer if people didn’t rest at them.”

We have a good laugh at this, and I’m relieved that the banter has alleviated the tension in the air. I wasn’t sure how I would be received—especially by Paxilche, who witnessed something I’ve never displayed in front of anyone in quite some time. With that, I determine the time might be right to advocate something that I feel deep within my heart.

“I would like to offer my services. If this organization is eager to disrupt the peaceful existence our collective people fought so hard to achieve, I want to do whatever I can to stop them. They mustn’t be allowed to persevere.”

I would understand if the two men turn down my proposition, dismissing me as some starry-eyed child with naïve ambitions. And if they desire someone who can wield a weapon, I’m not the most capable. In fairness to them, however, they both nod and seemingly accept my offer, particularly Paxilche, whose reaction is more emphatic.

“We can use your insight into the group to help us formulate a plan of attack,” Qumuna says, somewhat muted, as if he doesn’t quite believe what he’s said. Perhaps I misunderstand, and my offer wasn’t accepted after all. With a sharp nod, he leaves us and returns to his gathered men. I’ve been so focused on our conversation that I’ve been unaware of his men preparing camp, collecting wood for a fire, returning with recently-hunted game, and laying out bedrolls.

The end of the discussion brings us into the evening, the cooling air a relief from the day’s unrelenting heat. There haven’t been many patches of trees so far as I’ve traveled across much of the Tapeu countryside, consisting mostly of dry grasslands a large swaths of cracked, reddish-brown soil. It makes me miss the luscious emerald green forests and cool, salty sea air of Sanqo.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Paxilche stays near, staring at me as though trying to solve a complex puzzle. His forehead is scrunched up as he inspects me, eyes narrowed while looking me up and down. He has a rectangular face with a strong, jutting jaw, and his full lips make it appear as though he is continually pouting. I wait for him to finally say what’s on his mind, but he remains silent and still, not giving away anything as to what he’s contemplating.

“Is there a question I can answer for you?” I ask, attempting to coax him into speaking to me, though nervous about what he might inquire.

“Did…” he stammers, trying to conceive how he wants to phrase his question. “How were you able to… back there… with the water…”

“To be perfectly honest,” I say, “I wasn’t sure if that was going to work. I had never done something like that before, ever.”

“Have you… always had these… powers?”

“Since I was a little girl, yes.”

“But there haven’t been abilities like that since the Eleven,” he says with astonishment in his voice, still trying, I imagine, to conceive how such a thing is possible. “Powers like that were supposed to have vanished with them. How did…”

“I had noticed when I was playing by the shores in Haqiliqa, moving the water this way and that. I’ve always had a connection to the water, feeling as though we’re both a part of one another. My brother, Pahua, had made fun of me, calling me names and teasing that I was some sea nymph. I kept my abilities to myself after that, not wanting to receive further mistreatment, and worrying what my parents might think if they knew.”

“So you don’t know how you received these abilities?”

I frown and shrug, “I’ve always had the ability to move water, manipulate it. I can move other liquids, too, I think. I didn’t know until I saw you being chased by those robbers whether or not I could affect such an amount at once, though. Something inside me wanted to do something about the thieves, however, so I did.”

“I’m grateful you arrived when you did. I’m… not much of a fighter, and being outnumbered by that many certainly made the situation appear dire. I had managed to break free for a fleeting moment, but I can’t imagine I’d get far had it not been for your intervention.”

“Well, Qumuna’s warriors actually defeated the men,” I say. “I was only able to briefly hold them back.”

“It was enough to create distance for us and give us a chance. I think you’re undervaluing how impactful you were.”

I feel my cheeks grow warm and blush at the compliment, though I still maintain I was only able to help minimally. However, it did feel as though the tapestry woven for me by the gods seemed to conveniently place me somewhere my presence was needed. So much has occurred recently that I haven’t had a chance to recount what happened and reflect.

While I’ve traveled southward toward Qiapu territory, the journey was uneventful up to that point. I was able to take in the vastly different terrain and scenery from Sanqo: Much like the grounds around the uli-poq court, the Tapeu landscape is stark and beige, and even the few trees that have sprung up are gnarled and misshapen from being windblown, offering very minimal shade. Yet I was appreciating how different and unique the land was, daydreaming of other lands throughout the continent and wondering how different they must be, and hoping to someday experience them all.

When the landscape had changed, with vegetation becoming more green than tan and the trees seemed to have more life, it was then that I came upon Paxilche, running toward me and appearing desperate as he occasionally looked behind him. In the distance, I saw a large group of men chasing him, and I knew they were up to no good. I had willed him to continue running, but when he hunched behind a large rock, I could see he was out of breath and I felt the need to intervene.

Except I wasn’t sure what to do. There was a nearby stream that was fairly sizable, but while I had moved small amounts of water or wine before, I couldn’t be certain I could influence such a quantity. Inside me, however, I was overwhelmed with the feeling that I had to do whatever I could.

After I checked to see if he was okay, I was overcome with this sensation that, indeed, I was going to stop these bandits. It’s difficult to describe, but I’ll try my best: when I was standing next to the stream, it was as though an energy flowed through me like water or some other fluid in my veins, coursing through every cell in my body, and I was filled with this overwhelming warmth. As the water left the stream, I imagined the robbers being halted by some force, ceasing their progress. That’s when the barrier of water started to form, racing away from the banks of the stream and generating the wall. I couldn’t believe it was happening, something crafted even grater than I had envisioned! I know I was absolutely unable to hide my smile at the realization that I was able to do such a thing.

But then the power began flowing out of me, like water draining out of my fingertips. I could feel myself growing exhausted, like swimming nearly all day without taking a pause, and it became difficult to hold myself up, to stand in place. I felt my legs and arms become weak, my vision blurred and a black shadow appeared around the edges. I heard shouts, but couldn’t determine who was yelling, nor what was being said, sounding muffled and distorted as though I was underwater. Realizing I was too exhausted to maintain this barrier, I told Paxilche we should move, and I’m thankful that he was able to carry me to safety. I can’t guess what we would have done after that if Qumuna and his men hadn’t appeared, everyone’s well-timed appearance seems serendipitous, but I won’t complain, relieved to have the robbers dispatched.

“So you were heading north to seek Qumuna,” I say to Paxilche, bringing my attention back to the present. “Now that you’ve found him, what do you plan to do?”

I’m aware this is a topic he and Qumuna were reluctant to discuss in front of me, a seemingly sensitive subject. However, learning that this Eye in the Flame is not just in Tapeu, but also appearing in the lands of other factions, makes me believe we are dealing with a significant threat. If these fanatics are trying to cause havoc that also greatly affects my family and people, I want to do whatever I can to make certain that Pachil is rid of them once and for all.

Paxilche looks hesitant to answer, keeping his eyes down and breathing deeply to calm himself. I can see he wants to trust me with the knowledge he possesses, yet I am still a stranger to him, someone who could betray him like others must have in the past.

“Paxilche,” I begin, looking directly into his eyes and speaking softly and with great concern, “I understand that the wounds of your brother's loss run deep—I can only imagine the pain you must feel. It's clear that you are determined to uncover the truth and seek justice. I've seen the spark of your commitment, and I believe that our shared goals align more than you may think. My journey here was not just by chance; it was guided by circumstances that have led me to believe that this is where I'm meant to be, where our paths intertwine.

“You’ve already seen the extent of this organization's darkness, and I sense the urgency in your desire to root them out. I offer my assistance not as an outsider, but as someone who shares your anger and frustration at their heinous acts. I'm committed to uncovering the truth, no matter the cost, and bringing an end to the terror they've inflicted on our lands. Together, we can be a formidable force against the Eye in the Flame. Your brother's memory deserves justice, and I'm here to support you in achieving that."

I remove my hand from his wrist, not recalling myself making the physical contact, likely from being overly engaged in the conversation while eagerly hoping that my message was conveyed and heard. After taking in my words, Paxilche sighs and nods. I patiently wait for his response with great anticipation.

“The investigation into Limaqumtlia’s murder went as cold as a quenched flame,” he dryly says. I can see it’s something that still greatly affects him, hunched over with his shoulders sagging. “Our leader determined it was the Ulxa infiltrating the ranks of our palace guards and left the matter at that. However, nothing more had been looked into—nothing about how the assassin obtained the uniform or if someone aided him. I had hoped that our new leader would have done more, and I had faith in his abilities to bring justice, yet he’s content with starting a war with the Ulxa, even though I’m not certain they’re wholly responsible.”

“They spoke of rebellion and being keepers of the ancient flame,” I say, remembering their speech before committing the awful acts in public display, “and the Arbiter wanting to eliminate them. I’ve never met the Ulxa—is that something they speak of frequently?”

“From my experience, I think the only faction that speaks about fire more than us is the Ulxa,” Paxilche says with a smirk. “I just question why they chose to attack us. All we want is our independence, to live our lives our way. My brother only wanted to restore Qiapu back to the time before the Timuaq ruled. If they want rebellion, I can’t understand why they would target us.”

“When I overheard their plans,” I say, leaning against the soft bark of a nearby tree, “they made it sound as though the world was unjustifiably against them, that they were preordained to rule the land. They might have far-reaching plans, but they could simply view anyone in their way as a threat. It’s why I feel so strongly that they should be stopped at all costs.”

“I apologize for mentioning it so often,” Paxilche says, looking slightly embarrassed and speaking barely loud enough to be heard over Qumuna’s men making camp. “It’s just… Before you appeared, I had many doubts about the tales I’ve heard about the Eleven, all the stories of supernatural feats. Even the worship of Aqxilapu and the origin stories of the Qiapu seemed farfetched. So to see someone who can do what you do...”

“It’s making you question a lot of what you believed before,” I say after his voice trails off. “Before my brother’s teasing, I had always assumed there were more people like me, that everyone had a special ability—or at the very least, they could manipulate water as I could. When I discovered that wasn’t the case, it was hard for me to reconcile with this knowledge. I didn’t believe there was a purpose for what I could do. I don’t think I’m like the Eleven at all–“

“Even though you stepped in to help a stranger in need,” he interjects. I nod and chuckle softly.

“Yes, even taking that into consideration. But after what I witnessed in Chalaqta, and now hearing of your experience with them, I believe I must be here for a reason, that I’m meant to do something about this Eye in the Flame.”

“It’s awfully convenient to have a person possessing a water power fighting a brutal rebellious organization obsessed with fire,” he says. “It’s a bit like a forge’s fire without bellows.” Although I don’t understand the reference, he laughs at his statement, and I note how his bright, wide smile could illuminate the night better than the fire close by, putting me at ease.

“And you traveled all this way, by yourself,” he continues. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or…” He trails off once again, this time letting the implication hang in the air. His observation is justified: I hadn’t considered my safety in my rush to escape Chalaqta, my focus solely on this predestined journey. The gods, wherever they may be, protected me in my travels up to now, but how I wasn’t the one being robbed is anyone’s guess. I suppose, upon considering this, I could scold Paxilche for making the same error. Yet, after my lack of response, Paxilche looks apologetic for making his comment, so I wave my hand to dismiss his concerns.

With the conversation coming to a close, we make our way to the campfire, preparing to rest for the night before disembarking to… wherever we’re going to go.

“You haven’t answered my question,” I ask Paxilche on our walk to the band of warriors. “What are your next steps, now that you’re reunited with Qumuna?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” he says, the realization crashing into him like a large wave. “I had thought I wasn’t going to see him until Qapauma, so now?” He shrugs and shakes his head.

“Might I make a suggestion?” I inquire, to which he gestures for me to proceed. “Qumuna may have the resources to aid you in your investigation, but if he’s expected in Qapauma, perhaps we can find a way for me to be of better use, for helping to find answers regarding your brother’s death and defeating the Eye in the Flame in Pichaqta.”

No sooner than I finish my thought, Qumuna’s voice chimes in. “I may have a way to assist you both, if you're willing. I can send one of my men with you, Pomaqli. He can be a liaison, of sorts. An extension of my authority. He has enough of a connection with the superiors in the palace guard to aid you in what you need. However, you will have to proceed with caution. Keep in mind that not everyone within our faction will have your best interest at heart. Saxina is…” He takes a moment to choose his words carefully, as anyone well-experienced with tumultuous political environments would be. “Paxilche is well-acquainted with Saxina. He’ll know the best way to navigating those waters, as the Sanqo are inclined to say.”

His advice is ominous, but Paxilche appears to agree with Qumuna. This will have to be something discussed at a later time, perhaps during our travel to Qiapu. Until then, the two men exchange knowing looks, as if coming to an agreement without having to speak.

“At dawn,” Paxilche declares, “we will part ways. You,“ he points to me, “and I will travel to Pichaqta, along with Pomaqli. I’ll be sure we get the answers we seek.”