The Journal of Dreams (The Tales of Tahana - Book One)

Chapter 26: The Confession

32-2-2-4012 DM, Gelang, Telama, Hilaraya

Alyana's chest tightened and felt a strong desire to scream. She felt anger, fear, hatred, and disbelief when she saw the face of the lakadu. After all that had happened in the last few days, the last thing she expected was to see him, the one who abducted Dari. She wanted to slap the lakadu hard in the face, if not for the presence of the two burly Watchers who were trying to keep him upright. She took a deep breath and released the air through her mouth in a low growl. She icily eyed the lakadu, who frustratingly appeared to be meek and humble, while he was being led by the two Watchers through the herd of people along the Trading House. She suddenly felt pain in her right palm. She realised that she had been tightly clutching the right pocket of her shirt, so she let go of it and contented herself with her silent seething while the trio parted the crowd going north.

"Are you absolutely certain?" the Periji asked Alyana in a whisper as they started to walk a few arms behind the Watchers and the bound lakadu.

"Without a doubt, Periji," Alyana replied as softly as she could manage, nodding her head while looking up at the questioning eyes of the Periji.

As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, which was in no way related to the fury she felt a moment ago. It was as if she had lied to the Periji. It didn't make sense. Why did she suddenly feel uncertain of her answer? Of course, she was certain. How could she not recognise the face of the lakadu she followed through the Takyanan Forest for two days? Sure, the lakadu before her looked less gaunt than she remembered, but it had been days since she last saw him. He could have eaten well after that incident with the horses for all she knew. Not that she cared at all. But then, there was a look of recognition in the lakadu's eyes. How could the lakadu recognise her when he was knocked out cold before she even came out of hiding? She was certain that the lakadu never saw her face. Then again, he was a Gorashadu, she was certain of that, so he must know that she was a haradu. Of course, that was it. Why did she even doubt herself? She nodded once again to assert her certainty on the matter.

"Alright then," the Periji responded with a nod, looked ahead, and urged Alyana to follow him.

The sun was already high above the sky and the midday heat was starting to wear Alyana down. She wiped the beads of sweat that dangled from her eyebrows with the right sleeve of her shirt and tried to cool down herself by breathing slowly. It was definitely a good choice to braid her hair that morning. Had she not done so, she would have had hair sticking to her face and neck at that moment. She remembered that her hands were cold, so she touched her forehead and her neck with her palms. A rush of comfort flowed into her, causing her to smile to herself. Whatever caused her hands to be ice-cold, she was thankful for it.

They walked silently through the crowd of curious faces until they reached an intersection about a hundred arms away from where they left Jesi and the others. The people looked at them wearily as they passed by. Most of them were huddled together, probably having whispered conversations about how they would rebuild their lives after the fiery catastrophe. From what little Alyana heard while they walked through the crowd, many of townsfolk had lost their homes and livelihood to the fire. There was a sense of misery floating in the air, much like the dank smell of a dark basement. She couldn't help but feel sorry for those people, but she knew that there was nothing she could do to help them even if she wanted to. Finally, she decided to keep her head down and allowed herself to be led by the Periji through the parting crowd.

The Watchers turned to the right into a street that was about ten arms wide and Alyana and the Periji followed them. The street was lined with an assortment of buildings that were made of greystone, whitestone, blackstone, and all sorts of lumber. A few of them were painted in bright colours of cerulean, ochre, crimson, and lime, although some looked rather plain and with hardly any paint on them. Most were just two-storeys high but there were some that rose up to four storeys. The plain-looking structures appeared to be common houses for the peratani who worked in the fields during the day. Some were the workshops of the wealthier silapani as shown by the signs above some of the lintels. They looked like the structures in the other towns that she saw in her lonesome travels. Sometimes, she thought that most towns actually looked much the same as the rest, except for the cities, of course. They only differed in their trade, manner of clothing, and favoured colours. She had only been to three countries, so she could only assume based on her experience. She shrugged and continued to walk, putting her palms on her forehead and neck every few steps to keep herself cool.