Revolutions

139 - Inuxeq

As grim as it sounds, tracking Taqsame's southward march is easy—we just follow the columns of smoke rising from the ashes and destruction he leaves in his wake. Each burned village, each charred field, is a reminder of how relentless he has become, how desperate the fight for Qapauma will be when we finally reach it.

But not here. Not at Qelantu Loh.

The Atima camp is hidden, far out of Taqsame's reach. His warriors have no reason to veer from their destructive path to come this way. The camp sits tucked between jagged cliffs and barren ridges, the northern Tapeu landscape as desolate as the rest of these lands. Sparse. Beige. But in this matter—and perhaps the first and only time I'd confess such a belief—I'm beyond thankful for where they've settled.

I hated this land the moment we crossed into it. I have cursed these flat plains, this never-ending sea of brown grass. The way the wind howls at night like it wants to flay the skin from your bones. The sight of it makes me long for the dense, tangled jungle of home. But, for some reason I can't fully explain, the sight of the Atima camp, dyed in their deep indigo, brings me a strange sense of warmth. It's orderly, bustling, efficient—everything that the barren land surrounding it is not.

Reluctantly, I admit to myself that I admire it. It's a fleeting thought, and one I would never voice aloud, but there it is.

As we approach, we are greeted by the Queen Mother, who emerged from the camp's entrance. Her orange cloak ripples slightly in the breeze, and her face softens upon seeing us. Along with the Qantua warriors, I lead the group of Aimue forward, tired but grateful for the reprieve. By the look that she suddenly displays upon noticing those trailing behind me, it's clear Nuqasiq doesn't yet know what to make of it.

"Inuxeq," she says when I reach her, inclining her head. "You bring more."

I gesture behind me to the group of elderly, children, and those who can no longer fight. "They'll be safer here, with you. Away from the battle."

Nuqasiq's eyes narrow slightly. She surveys the group, pausing for a moment on the faces of the arriving Aimue, then looks back at me. "We were not expecting more arrivals. The land here is already... difficult. Resources are in short supply. I'm not sure we can support such a large population."

I nod. "The lands are harsh, but the Aimue are experts in cultivation, are they not? Although there are some who are unable to use their hands for combat, they can instead use them to make this barren soil fertile again. Together, you can turn this land into something more. Something livable, sustainable."

Her lips part in a small, quiet expression of surprise. She had not been fully aware of the plan Haesan and I devised, nor did I expect her to be. I can see her mind working, searching for a polite way to turn these people away—one only a practiced noble would know. But as realization dawns on her, the Queen Mother gradually comes to acceptance, finding it difficult to refute my claim.

"I do not enjoy these lands," I confess, casting a glance over the beige expanse. "But I know what potential they hold. The Atima are brilliant. They just need the right help."

Nuqasiq blinks, her surprise now giving way to something closer to respect. "I had not anticipated this," she admits, smiling faintly—likely the closest thing to approval I will get. "Perhaps there is more to you than I thought, Inuxeq."

What is thatsupposed to mean? I am likely a third of her age and have seen and experienced more than anyone would imagine. I've fought in the War of Liberation, after all! What more is there to think?

But after those initial thoughts cross my mind, I begin to calm down. Perhaps, no offense was meant. Perhaps I'm overreacting, blaming my sensitivity on exhaustion from the long journey and the pressure of what awaits me in Qapauma.