"You always come here on your time off."
Omari looked up and saw Tutzi. He had a gentle smile and said, "Is this your new hideaway?"
He chuckled, "A little bit. It's calm here. And I like the plants."
"It is nice and warm," Tutzi hummed."
Omari gazed at him then called, "I also like spending time with you. You are also very calming."
"Why thank you."
Omari let out a blissful sigh and wondered, "Tutzi?"
"Mhm?"
"I was thinking… well… How long have you wanted to be a witch?"
Tutzi blinked and asked, "Where'd this come from?"
Omari breathed through his nose, "I don't know. You just seem like you have your life together. It's so relaxing, uneventful here. I like it the most."
"Is that another thing that you like about me?"
"I like… that your life is so peaceful," Omari nodded. "Not a day goes by that you aren't here… watering your plants and helping them grow."
"Hm," Tutzi smiled, then sat down with Omari. "I think… I've always wanted to be a witch. To have this simple life. But there are some things about it that I would like to improve. I would like it if my life was less disturbed by others."
Omari thought he meant him, but Tutzi quickly diffused that, "Not you. More like the officials who have me make Black Gold. I know it's going to a good cause, I just… it feels like a piece of me is being ripped out. Every time. It's very uncomfortable."
"I see."
"Yeah…" Tutzi stared out the glass-paned window. "But other than that and a couple of other things, yes, you could say my life is very simple and serene."
"That sounds nice."
"It is," he nodded, but his eyes opened a bit, showing traces of regret, "Of course… being a natural-born magic user wasn't perfect from the start. In the beginning… it was very scary."
"I remember a little about that," he muttered. "All the rules, discrimination, a lot of bad stuff."
"Yes…" Tutzi sighed. "When my family first learned that I had magic powers, they were so scared for me. They kept me inside a lot. Kept me away from the public eye."
"That's terrible," Omari stated.
"Mm… Yes… it was," he nodded. "I had many brothers and sisters to keep me company, but I couldn't help feeling lonely, like an outcast. They told me to never use my magic, but of course I did. Secretly. I couldn't help it. It was a part of me."
"Then what happened?"
"It's very anticlimactic," Tutzi chuckled. "Varya cast her magic and saved the world. I was about fourteen at the time. Fourteen, Fifteen. Magic was quickly accepted and the school was formed. I got to meet many others like me and I wasn't lonely anymore. It was very beautiful."
"You got a happy ending."
"More or less."
"That's…" Omari thought about his choice of words for a second then answered, "That's really nice."
"Thank you."
Omari gazed at his hands then tightened them, "You think… it was like that for the Great Witch Varya?"
Tutzi shook his head, "No, from what I read, she broke away from her family at a very young age. They weren't overprotective of her like mine, but were ashamed and neglected her. She left. I don't know if that makes me stronger or weaker than her… when it comes to what I want."
"Hm…" Omari murmured. "How strange." He glanced over to see a small potted plant then asked, "How do you do it?"
"Green magic?"
"Yeah."
"Well, you need a seed," Tutzi explained. He took a sunflower seed and pulled a pot of soil over, "You bury it in the correct soil, give it some water, and plenty of sunlight then…" He placed his hand over it and it bloomed a brilliant yellow, "You speed up its growth."
"Interesting."
He scanned over all of the vegetation when he saw something. They were thick tan roots that Tutzi had harvested. Omari picked one up and Tutzi said, "Ah, that's ginger."
"Ginger?"
"Hm, ginger root," he nodded.
Omari stared at it for a little longer than asked, "Can I take one with me?"
"Sure, go ahead," Tutzi chimed. "Are you going to make something tasty?"
"I… I think I will," Omari stated.
-
Eventually, he went to his apartment for the night, taking the ginger with him. Omari wanted to make something. It had been a long time, but the idea just came to him. He took scallions and a small bag of white rice, and started boiling some water. Now, he didn't quite know how to do this but he wanted to try.
He wanted to try to make congee.
At least, that's what he believed the name was. It had been over a few months since he ate some, but sometimes his mind would drift back to that dish. It was nice and simple, and a little different. Omari knew he should be feeling nothing but resentment for those days, but he simply has not. Instead, he remembered that soft cotton bed and warm bowl of congee. It was strange, he had an even more comfortable bed and even more delicious food than he's ever had in his whole life. But… Omari supposed that he was longing for something he couldn't have.
He boiled the rice and cut up the scallions, trying to recall what else was in that dish. But he really couldn't remember. Soon Omari added a pinch of salt and maybe some broth to thicken it up, but he had a feeling like he was missing a special sort of sauce or something.
It was steaming as he spun it with his wooden spoon. The dish was almost finished when he had a knock at the door. Omari peered over and called, "Come in."
Jessi peeked her head inside and smiled, "Hi~! How're you doing?"
"Pretty good," Omari replied as he poured in the scallions.
"Mm!" she hummed, skipping in. "Making something good again? I could smell it outside in the hallway."
"Well, I don't know if I'm doing it right," he admitted. "I don't have a recipe."
She approached closer, looking over his shoulder at the full pot, "What's that? Rice?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "Excuse me."
He added in the shredded ginger.
Jessi watched him then asked, "What is this? It looks pretty simple. Is it a side dish?"
"I think it's a breakfast meal," he replied.
"What's it called?"
"Congee."
"Con-gee?" she repeated. "That's a weird name. I've never heard of it before."
"Mm."
"Where did you learn how to do this?"
"The first time I had it was in Tao Liu's camp," he answered.
Jessi's eyes widened and she became stiff. Omari was spinning the ingredients, realized she had gone quiet and looked at her face. It was one of dread and disgust. He became quizzical at her expression and muttered, "Jessi?"
"You…" she choked. "You can't make this…"
"What?"
"That's… That's a Hóngyèse dish, right?!" she suddenly snapped, alarming him. "You can't make that! Throw it away!"
"What no!" she went to reach for the pot, but he grabbed her hand and pulled it away. He was completely shocked by her behavior. "What're you doing?! Stop it!"
"What am I doing?!" she shouted. "What're you doing?! You can't be cooking something like that!"
"W-Why not?!" he stood between her and the congee, watching her sputter with frustration.
"Are you stupid?!" she barked. "That is a Hóngyèse dish! You are a Maltan soldier! A hero! You can't be eating- no, making their food!"
"It's… It's just rice," he mumbled. Why was she doing this?
"It's not just rice!" Jessi countered. "It's 'their' food. It's a blatant symbol of the enemy! You can't be caught dead eating that stuff! What will people say?! What will people do when they find out you're making that stuff?!"
"It's just rice!" Omari shouted in defense.
"No it's not!" she clawed at her hair. "Can't you see that, Omari?! It's way more than that! You can't do this. Be on their side. Even with something like this! You can't have something that was originally Hóngyè made."
Omari puffed up, face red, hot, and angry. He growled, "Jessi, I'm not declaring treason on Malta by eating a Hóngyèse dish."
"I know you aren't, but others will think so," she argued. "Others will come up with ideas and questions, and you'll be scrambling for answers on why you want to eat the enemy's food."
"This is ridiculous."
"No, it's not!"
"Yes, it is!" Omari yelled. "I am just eating with ingredients that we have here in Malta and making something different. I can have something from Hóngyè."
"You can't."
"Yes, I can," Omari gritted his teeth. "People in Malta buy things illegally from Hóngyè all the time. And plenty of our everyday things were originally made in different countries, like Hóngyè!"
"But those are other people," Jessi argued. "If you were still a simple nurse, I'd say go ahead, whatever. But you are the shining new hero of Malta. So many more eyes are going to be on you. You just can't."
He stared at her then at the innocent pot full of rice.
"Omari just… throw it away," she tried to be gentle now. To be soothing. "Throw it away and we can forget about this, okay?"
He gazed at the small grains of rice then at her, "You can go now."
Jessi's shoulders stiffened. Her fists shook and she tore away, "Fine, get yourself in trouble."
She left the room and Omari stood there in front of the congee. He turned the stove off.
-
Omari and Pallavi were meditating. In the practice room, there was silence and incense. They were to relax and calm their minds for a couple of hours. This went with all the training to soothe Omari's mind for heightened situations. He had been at it for quite some time, learning a great deal. In fact there was a lot he was being taught. Some things that completely blew his mind.
Pallavi talked about Hóngyèse magical arts, Cultivation. There were many interesting things about it, but a couple of noteworthy parts she mentioned was that they can shoot energy blasts from their hands and fly on swords. Omari would stare at her in confusion from that last part.
How does one fly on a sword? He supposed it was as strange as witches flying on brooms, though it wasn't as common at the institute as he thought it would be. But he also didn't understand how they could fight if they were flying on their sword. He supposed they'd use their magic, but Omari had a sneaking suspicion that the energy blasts weren't as powerful as their blade.
He previously asked Pallavi if he could do that, but she said that the secrets of cultivation were banned from entering Malta and all the books with knowledge of the practice were hidden away. Being hogged by the Emperor and his generals. The art wasn't even allowed to be understood or practiced by the Hóngyèse public. It was very secretive and protected.
Omari was a little bummed that he couldn't learn how to fly on a sword.
So that day they were just sitting there, gaze closed, undaunted when a small disturbance came into the room. It took the form of a small door creak and the two opened their eyes to see a head peeking, afraid of entering. Omari blinked and immediately recognized it as Prince Edwards. He straightened up, stood, and called, "Your highness?"
"Ah-oh!" he sputtered. "I apologize for interfering. I can come back later when you're done with your training. Would that be okay?"
Pallavi also stood, "Don't worry, Prince Edwards. We can take a break."
"Really?" he called.
"Yes," she politely smiled then gestured for him. "Please, do come in."
The prince nervously shuffled in and stated, "Again I apologize. I know this is important training."
"It's alright," Omari nodded, then asked, "How is his highness doing?"
"Oh! I'm well, thank you," he nodded. "Is Juma Omari okay, too?"
"Never better," he replied.
"That's good," Prince Edwards hummed.
Pallavi peered at him then wondered, "Is there anything we can do for his highness today? You must have come from so far."
"Um no- I mean yes," he muttered. "I actually rushed all the way over here."
Pallavi's gaze grew, "Oh? Why's that?"
"Well," he was anxiously ringing his hands. "I was wondering if you heard?"
"About what?" Omari questioned.
"About General Tao Liu."
Omari's eyes widened and he slowly answered, "No… no, I haven't. What about him?"
"Oh! I uh… I wanted to be the first to tell you," the prince stated. "I heard from the inner court and I thought if anyone should know, it should be you, Omari!"
"What did they say?"
"It's not released to the public yet, but…" Prince Edwards glanced between them then said, "But we have received intel that General Tao Liu is alive!"
Omari froze. He stared at the prince with wide eyes, every joint in his body becoming stiff. Pallavi glanced back and forth between them, then turned to his highness and asked in a panic, "Are you sure?!"
"Y-Yes!" the prince fretted, then reassured, "Our intel is very reliable."
"How reliable?"
The two looked at Omari. They saw a face pale and sweaty, knees wobbling.
"How sure are you?"
Prince Edwards breathed in, clenched his fists and said, "This is fairly recent news. It was uncovered a few days ago and just brought to our attention. There will be more on the way, but those spies are the most reliable."
Omari stood there then his head suddenly became dizzy. He held it in his hand, attempting to steady himself.
Prince Edwards tried to react with worry and support him, but Omari lightly held him back, "I'm okay… I'm okay."
Pallavi watched them both then turned to his highness and suggested, "Prince Edwards. Perhaps we can let Juma Omari have a moment. This is huge news, after all."
"Y-Yes," he agreed and the two left. Outside Edwards muttered to Pallavi, "He must be so overwhelmed. He thought he got rid of him. That he was the one to finally put down Tao Liu, and now he's back. The general will probably seek the most malicious revenge."
Pallavi listened and nodded.
Inside the closed room, Omari stood there for a second longer then collapsed onto his knees. His head fell into his hands, his back was shaking and he sniffed. He rubbed his eyes, groaned, feeling his whole body shivering then smiled.
It was a distorted smile, one messed up by tears of relief and overwhelming joy. He… He didn't kill Tao Liu. He was alive… he…. He thought he killed him all this time he…
Omari hicced and cried. It was soft and quiet, feeling so much weight pour off his shoulders. For months he was privately being tormented by the knowledge that he killed another person. And this time… he had no control. None whatsoever. He could have killed thousands. And that scared him.
And the one who was trying to get him to stop, who shielded everyone from his violence… was dead. He was so torn up about it. Felt so guilty.
But… he was alive. He was alive. Alive! Alive!
Tao Liu wasn't dead. He was okay. Omari was so thankful. He didn't succeed in killing Tao Liu. The one person that he found common ground with on the other side; it didn't end in complete tragedy.
He knew that many would call him foolish for being grateful for such a thing, but he couldn't help it. The relief he was feeling was insane. The pressure was lifted off his back and he could breathe again. Omari felt… so happy.