Revolutions

39 - Teqosa

"I thought you had forgotten about me."

"It's only because I haven't been able to have a reasonable night's sleep," I say to Entilqan.

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, Entilqan and I are reunited atop our hill that overlooks the Qantua valley from our childhood, beneath a jacaranda tree while the setting sun casts its glorious golden glow upon the valley. Just as radiant, my sister sits beside me, arms folded on her knees as she maintains her focus on the landscape, taking it all in. I suddenly become aware of my hands and leg, looking down upon them, and realizing they show no sign of injury, somehow believing the wounds would carry over into my dream state.

Moments after departing the ruins of Wichanaqta, my bones and muscles ached too greatly to continue on for the day, and I required rest. Between the continuous travel and continuous fighting, my sleep has been restless up until now. But tonight? I've slept the soundest I can recall in, perhaps, a harvest or three. I can't determine if it's from exhaustion, or relief that our search has resulted in something tangible, indicating to us that we are on the correct path.

"How is the 'Savior of Qantua' faring these days?" I ask, playfully alluding to the title bestowed upon her by the most devoted worshippers amongst our people. She rolls her eyes and smirks, trying her best to disguise a smile.

"If I may be honest?" she says, turning to give me a look as though she's asking for my permission before she proceeds. I nod, curious as to what she'll say. "It's extremely boring! Especially after everything that took place before... you know... Now, the tranquility is too unsettling. I have no idea what to do with myself."

"But aren't you gods supposed to be, I don't know, answering prayers and smiting nonbelievers?" I ask, half-jokingly. Her expression is enough to let me know just how little I understand about her situation and the afterlife. I raise my hands to concede defeat, and a chuckle escapes my lips.

"You've been awfully busy since we last spoke," she comments, swiftly changing the subject, much to my relief.

"I didn't realize you would notice," I say, genuinely surprised.

"I'm the 'Savior of Qantua', as you have astutely pointed out. I see everything," she says, the last part is embellished with the waving of her hands as if to emulate a haunting spirit.

"Your friend, Sualset," I begin to say, briefly interrupted by her snorting laugh before I continue, "she was quite busy herself before the Eleven departed to combat the Timuaq."

"She was always up to something," Entilqan says, however I have trouble determining her tone—is she simply musing? Is she annoyed? Amused? Agitated? Apathetic?

"We found the painted clay pots," I inform her, as if she wasn't aware. "Or, well, the pots that became painted once Upachu and I... Right, you know. Anyway, we think they lead to certain locations around Pachil. Any idea where those locations are?"

"She never told us anything of her machinations," Entilqan says, sounding defeated or distraught. "I believe either Sochumep or Iuqamaq confronter her about it, but she declined to let us into her plans, saying something about how, if we were to be captured by the Timuaq, we could claim ignorance and wouldn't confess under duress. I told her we would be tortured or put to death whether we knew or not, but..." Her voice trails off, yet she doesn't need to complete her sentiment for me to understand. Or, perhaps, she realizes to whom she speaks and what I've been through while all this was taking place.

Before the thoughts of such harrowing events can flood my mind, and not knowing how much remaining time I have with her tonight, I harken back to the advice Upachu gave me, so that I can turn my anger and frustration into something more constructive.