Revolutions

114 - Inuxeq

The regal figure of Nuqasiq strides forward, her golden crown catching the dying light, transforming her into a spectral queen draped in ethereal luminescence. She moves with a measured, purposeful grace as she approaches. The dozen or so palace guards escorting her fan out, heads on a swivel to vigilantly seek out any possible threats.

"Nuqasiq!" Haesan shouts, her tone a mix of elation and disbelief.

Nuqasiq's eyes find Haesan, and a rare, soft smile touches her lips, transforming her austere face into something almost maternal. "Haesan, my dear child," she replies with an undercurrent of affection. The Qantua warriors around us relax slightly, though their grip on their weapons remains firm.

I feel a growing unease twisting in my gut, like this feeling that a storm looms on the horizon. I search the area, looking for anything that might explain this unexpected visit, or any threats chasing down the Queen Mother, yet nothing appears. Despite this, something about Nuqasiq's sudden appearance doesn't sit well with me, and I can't place my finger on why.

Haesan's excitement falters, her steps hesitant as she stops a few paces short of the regal woman. "What are you doing here?" she asks, eyes wide with a spectrum of emotions.

"We had to escape," Nuqasiq replies, her tone suddenly somber. "Qapauma is in chaos. The Qente Waila have loosed a full-scale assault on the palace. Achutli's forces are holding them off, though for how much longer, I cannot be certain. I no longer felt safe inside the capital"

"I see you wisely traveled with a small, nimble force, to be fleet of foot," I note, observing the paired down group of warriors with which she travels. "But why come here to Qelantu Loh?"

Nuqasiq steadily meets my gaze. "Yes, I brought what I could. The palace was under siege. We had no choice but to flee with what little we could carry, and the reduced size allows us to move covertly. As for coming here, I knew this place would be a haven, and I hoped to find Haesan here. Chalqo, a trusted ally and old friend, often spoke of Qelantu Loh as a safe refuge."

"I'm afraid Chalqo and his band of musicians have not yet appeared in Qelantu Loh," Haesan says, her head drooping and shoulders sagging.

The Atima elders exchange uneasy glances, shifting their weight from foot to foot. Concern and skepticism etch their weathered faces. They're shaken by Nuqasiq's sudden arrival and grave news regarding Qapauma.

"Well, no matter," Nuqasiq says, disrupting the morbid silence. "I trusted in the gods to guide my steps. And it seems they led me to the right place."

Haesan and Nuqasiq exchange warm smiles. It's as though I can see Haesan's heart swell in front of me, how she beams with all the brightness of the sun at the mere presence of this elderly woman. Nuqasiq reaches out, gently clasping Haesan's hands. Their eyes lock in a silent conversation, one filled with deep admiration and love, as if the world around them has momentarily faded away.

"Tell us exactly what happened," I interject, my voice harsher than intended amid their sentimental reunion. "From the beginning. Please."

Before Nuqasiq can respond, Haesan steps forward. She places a hand upon my shoulder, then looks from me to Nuqasiq. "We should speak in private," she insists with an understated urgency. "We don't want to alarm anyone unwittingly until we can determine what is occurring. Chalqo's tent is nearby. It will give us the space and privacy we need."

I nod in agreement, my senses returning to me. Speaking away from the gathered Atima refugees, not wanting to worry them further, is clearly the correct decision. Nuqasiq inclines her head, signaling her assent. Together, we make our way through the dirt paths of the camp, keeping our gazes fixed on the ground. We exchange only cursory nods with the curious onlookers, their eyes following us with a mix of suspicion and hope.