The Ganga women had a way with their hands. They were able to make me look stunning without any effort. Just a wick of oil, ribbons, and beads, and I looked like another person.
The women tied my locs in a high bun that looked like a never-ending tower, decorated with golden seashells and rattling beads. My face was painted in beautiful colors of brown, red, and white. The white dots colored under my eyes.
I wore leaf sandals and a beautiful red robe with a brown leather fasten that was bought from the town square. I had on my little waist kit.
I stared at my reflection through the mirror in my room. I was never particularly considered beautiful, when it comes to beauty I've always been Mari's shadow. We were twins but nothing identical.
My skin was too dark, the brownish color of coal, and my eyes and lips were too big. I looked too much like my devilish ancestors to ever be considered beautiful. But looking at myself in the mirror, I couldn't call myself ugly either.
I left my room and walked inside the main room of our rondavel.
The inside of our rondavel was like Unkoko's storage room. Filled with so many items and tools. From different colored sheklas and baskets to different types of blankets, mapambo's, and pictures that decorate the pillars. All hand-sewn and made. The wooden tables and shelves were filled with scented candles and flowers. Unlike our sleeping rooms, the main part of our rondavel has no walls, every corner covered in portière and bead curtains. Our house is spiritual in a way. We have at least one prayer box in each room and one in our sand yard. It brings light and comfort to our home. Safety.
Even with the laws of Mortus that banned spiritual services in Kustal, we were still allowed to pray in our own homes.
I pulled the terrace curtain open, to be greeted by the high sun, and the warm clouds. Our rondavel sat at the top of the mountain, looking down at the sloped rondavels and stalls in the village.
I saw Mari at the terrace. I quickly hugged her from behind, getting a small yelp out of her. She looked beautiful, her hair in a tight long braid that was extended with fur and silk. She wore a long green robe that had patterns of flowers and leaves. Her face was less painted than mine—because she's the bride, and her lower dress was in pink silk ruffles.
Because her soon-to-be husband was from Khrâng, she showed respect to the Khrângan culture by wearing gold earrings and less of her native culture. It was a tradition in foreign Muungano rituals. When we see her husband, he'll wear a Pisokan traditional robe, which is what the men in our village wear.
"How do I look?" She asks.
"Like a rose."
She frowns. "Is my face too red, was I in the bath for too long?"
I chuckle, feeling the anxiousness on her face lessens.
I didn't ask her any questions further when she cried in the tube earlier, the Ganga women kicked me out when she got herself together. But I was glad she was in her joyous mood.
"Do you know what he looks like?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "Aiyi said he was not much older than I was—but kind of old. She said his face was very plain, he wasn't like the other handsome Khrângans, but he's related to a shinwa, so he has pesa for sure."
I frown at the thought. She didn't seem to be happy with the fact he was much older and less handsome, but the fact he had pesa was good enough.
"We exchanged a few letters," she grinned. "He seems educated, not that I'd know. But a decent man."
I smile, squinting my eyes against the sun. "A decent man is a fine man."
I looked at Mari and her neck was bare. My smile widened, and I knew it was my chance.
My hands fiddled with the button on my kit bag, and I dug deep to take the necklace Unkoko gave out, but I felt something sharp and ruff, and I realized that my dagger was still in my kit. I took the necklace, not bothering about the dagger, and flashed it before Mari's eyes. She gasped, in complete awe. "That's gorgeous," she smiled brightly. "Did you steal it?"
I rolled my eyes. "This is my gift to you, a beautiful shanga necklace made with love and ibada."
She stared at the necklace in my hands for a long time, for a moment I thought she didn't like it anymore, that it was too flashy or ugly, but I was relieved when she took it from my hands and gave me a tight hug. "It's beautiful," she says. "I love it. I love you."
I hug her tightly. "I love you too."
Mari turns around and I giggle as I tie the necklace to her neck, the colors brightening on her tan skin. She turns, her smile bright. "If only we had those hollow things from the capital, we could capture this moment."
"I rather capture things with my eyes, it's more beautiful."
She cringes. "Since when have you been so charming my dear sister."
I shrug. "I've always been this way."
She locks her hand with mine as we watch the blue sky, letting the autumn breeze hit our faces.
The horses came, and I already regretted everything. I was afraid of horses, they were like mythical beings to me, not the ones in the holy books or the oracle origins, but from the fiend volumes. A devil by the name of Zorzurus rode a black horse around hell, its tail was in complete darkness, and its eyes were a spirling void. I still remember the nightmares I had as a child after hearing the myth. I was glad when Mari asked me to ride with her.
It was a Pisokan tradition for a bride to ride a horse down the village slope to the Amani gatehouse for her Muungano, with Ganga women tailing her along.
I rode on the horse holding Mari tightly as we rode down the village slope with flowers being thrown at us by the villagers. A green carpet was laid on the stone ground. Families left their home barricades just to see our walk down. Everyone wore red robes and dresses, to show their love and support for the bride.
I watched little girls throw petals at us from the market's stone walls. They reminded me of when I was a child and threw petals at Aiyi when she was getting married.
Aiyi was on a horse not too far from us. She wasn't half-naked like before, but was wearing her actual Ganga uniform, an orange and yellow suit dress that had a red robe over it. Her hair was tied tightly to her head.
We made it to the beach just in time and were forced to get off the horses and walk to the Amani gates that were near the entrance of the forest. I held Mari's hand as we walked in front, the Ganga women not too far from us.
The smell of the sea was refreshing, and I could feel the reminiscence just smelling the air. I've seen and felt so many things throughout my years at the beach. The night spars I had with Mari, sneaking away from classes to eat asa, us catching fish on a boat, tilting the boat, and falling into the water, almost drowning. The memories I made here with my sister were unforgettable, and soon I'll be making more with her children.
We arrived at the Amani gates. The gatehouse was a brown house on the sea. It resembled one of those Minka's in the Insanti Empire. A narrow bridge connected the gatehouse to land.
Mari took the first step on the bridge. She looked nervous. From afar, there were already Khrangan asklanders standing guard by the gatehouse's pillars, meaning her husband was already here.
I held her hand tighter. She looked at me, the blood draining from her face, she looked more scared now. "It's ok," I said. "I'm here."
She slowly nods, taking more slow steps down the bridge. I felt her grip on my hand tighten, her shallow breaths becoming slower.
Two asklander guards came up to us, they were both bulk and tall, their beards cut weirdly. One of them with pale skin comes up to Mari. "Please follow me."
Aiyi held out her hand, stopping both Mari and me from moving. "I think we can navigate in our own village's gatehouse."
"His nobility, Ragnus, is the host, as the host, he will guide his bride and her visitors as he wishes."
"Where exactly is his nobility," Aiyi asks, losing her patience.
"He's still on the forest road, but he will be here shortly."
Mari frowns. "Wait, he's not here?" I ask, confused.
The asklander turns to me, just realizing I was there. He looks at me up and down, but I realize he's staring closely at my skin. I shiver from his glare. "No," he says. "But he will be here, so I advise you to follow the orders he left for me."
"Orders," Aiyi scoffs.
A fellow Ganga woman came up, she had curly hair that was in a braid. "Were not his dogs," she scowled. "This is a Muungano, not a shinwa ball."
We all stared at the asklander in fury, and his face was still as placid as ever. "I apologize for his rudeness, but I please urge you to wait for him instead of standing in the cold."
I looked at Mari who had a sullen look on her face. I expected Aiyi to decline but she simply nodded, pursuing the asklander inside. We all slowly followed, confused.
The inside of the gatehouse was just as plain as the outside, but it held many Pisokan historical artifacts, old masks of Ganga women who passed, ancient stones, and sorcery potions.
Two small tables were already set behind the curtain, away from the small gallery. Two asklanders sat at the table on the left. They had more medals on their military uniforms than the asklanders by the pillars. When I saw the golden lace on their hips I realized they were shinwa.
When we walked by the table in front of them, I bowed out of respect, but they paid me no mind. Mari sat in the middle of the right table, Aiyi and I beside her. A few Ganga women sat at the right table with us, but most guarded the door. I didn't expect any conversation until one of the shinwa started talking. "It's a pleasure to meet you again," he said.
They were both awfully old, but seemed refined, and shouted pesa. Aiyi smiled her fake smile. "The pleasure is mine," she leans on the table. "Your beard gets greyer by the day, your nobility. Age isn't doing you well?"
He smiles. "It seems you should lend me your secrets of staying young."
"I don't exactly have a means of remaining young."
His smile widens, and I cringe at his yellow teeth. "Perhaps I should stop getting married, maybe it's the women that cause such stress."
"Maybe it's yourself," she snaps.
He laughs, giving her a threatening glare. "I hope you remember our deal," he asks, clicking his tongue.
"How could I ever forget."
"Good," he simply says.
I turn to Aiyi, leaning forward. "What deal," I blurt out. She shushes me harshly.
Mari squeezes my hand under the table gesturing for me to be quiet.
I lean back, confused as ever. What deal did she make? And why with a shinwa from another village.
"I must say, the girl looks better than I expected," the other shinwa said. He was heavier and uglier than the shinwa on his right. He stares at Mari, taking every part of her in. "Not all you devils look horrendous."
The air in the room became hot, and I could feel the grip on my hand tighten. The Ganga women's faces were red, but Mari's seemed placid, even though her veins were showing aggressively.
"Is that the little sister," he asks.
Before I could say anything, Aiyi spoke. "Yes."
The yellow teeth shinwa smirks almost evilly. "I guess not all çifts look the same," he laughs. "Say little one, when are you getting married?"
I stared at him in silence, not finding the right words to his question. His rude question.
I never thought about it if I were to be completely honest. There was only one person that I loved somewhat romantically, but that person was long gone. And I'm not like Mari, I won't marry some decent man from a different village—not like anyone would take me as their wife.
"I don't know," I simply say.
He frowns, and I watch as he looks at me slowly. "I've been married seven times, disjoined six times, I have much knowledge on marriage and its significance and triviality. But I know many of the reasons relationships can fall apart is because it's not something both partners want."
"Zuri will get married soon," Aiyi cut him off. "Her marriage will not be of your affairs."
"No need to speak for the girl," he clicked his tongue. "She can make decisions for herself."
"I don't need you putting nonsense into my girl's brain," Aiyi scowls. "Understood?"
The man clicks his tongue again, this time smiling as he stares at me. "Nonsense is a cruel term. I just like to enlighten, no-nonsense in that."
The asklander guard comes in, bowing directly to the shinwa. "Sir Ragnus is here."
The air in the room freezes as Sir Ragnus walks into the room. I can feel Mari suck in her breath, and I can feel my whole heart stop.
Her soon-to-be husband was not wearing the Pisokan male robe, but a regular Khrângan asklander uniform. He was bulk, thick-necked, with pale sunburned skin, and a scar-eyed man.
He looked nothing like Mari's description. He was old, wrinkled but grim. He was built but nowhere near handsome. He smelled like a mix of burned wood and a corpse. He looked straight at the shinwa sitting in front of us.
"Who's the girl?" He asked sternly.
Both shinwa's clear their throat before nodding their heads, gesturing at Mari. Ragnus looked at Mari up and down, deciphering her as if she was a puzzle.
I turned to Aiyi who didn't seem at all fazed, she looked as if she was holding her breath. Mari stood up from her chair, bowing at her soon-to-be husband. "Hello, I am Mariamett Bo Karani, it's a pleasure to meet you, senin lütfun." Your grace in Khrângan.
He walked to his seat, completely ignoring her. I saw a vein burst on Aiyi's forehead, and the rage on Mari's face when she sat down.
"She's a beauty," the fat old asklander said.
"You gloated your ass off," Ragnus asserted to the shinwa. "She's fair looking, overvalued if I say."
Fair looking? Overvalued? Has this man lost his mind?
"Alright Nedem, let's get this over with."
I realized he was talking to the yellow-toothed man, Nedem was his name.
"This is a muungano," Aiyi latched. "I can't tolerate your rudeness any longer."
Ragnus face was serene as ever, he seemed undisturbed, and he didn't even glance at Mari since he first got here. "Stay put," Nedem warned. "This may be a Muungano, but it is also an arrangement."
"An arrangement?" I cracked.
Everyone in the room looked at me, startled by my outburst. "What arrangement?" I asked.
The fat asklander raised his eyebrow. "We are military leaders from Ouranmayi who happen to come from Khrâng. For the past couple of months there have been sightings of enemy ships in the Kustalian Peninsula," he said. Nedem continued. "In exchange for the Pisokan village's safety, I had Ganga leader Aiyi arrange a contract of trust between Khrâng and Pisok."
I turned to Aiyi, she looked almost ashamed, avoiding my eyes at all costs. And Mari…she seems unsurprised as if she knew about this all along. She was no longer holding my hand, and she wouldn't look me in the eye.
Ragnus slumped in his seat. "Is that the little one?"
Nedem giggled. "She's a curious fellow, reminds me of the hag."
Aiyi scowled, I realized he was talking about her.
"What do you get in return?" I ask. Hoping the reason wouldn't be absurd.
"Full access to the waterfall."
My eyes widened. "That means—"
"The Pisok waterfall will no longer be Pisokan territory."
If this is true, that means the villagers will have to spend the rest of their days drinking saltwater. And what about the animals that roam the forest near the waterfall, they'll be hunted. Killed, and burned alive for fur and meat.
"It's wonderful isn't it," Nedem smiles. "Both our villages will be united in peace."
I could feel my whole body shivering. What does that mean for Mari? That she's just a pawn in a game of unions. If she is a part of the arrangement Khrâng and Pisok have, then that means she'll have to stay in Khrâng until the union is broken, or terminated.
Ragnus stared at Mari almost despicably. "She's young, but I'm sure she'll make a good fourth wife."
"Fourth!" I shout.
Mari stomps my feet, and I look at her in confusion. "Stop it," she mouths.
"I have many concubines and whores," the man gloats. "None that young or strange like you," he says to Mari. He looks at her neck. "That's one ugly necklace you have on there."
I felt the temperature of my blood boil, like steam was airing from me.
"You should wear the gold and silver pearls they sell in the Khrâng markets, I can get you one on our wedding night."
"Thank you, that's very charming of you," Mari says, looking at the table.
"The wedding ceremony will be exquisite, that I can reassure you," Nedem says.
Ragnus laughs. "I'm more worried about after the wedding ceremony, hopefully, I don't get cursed by my own desire."
The air in the room thickens, and the tension becomes more horrid than it was before. Mari and Aiyi were still keeping their composure, but I couldn't stop trembling. How could he say something so improper to his future wife in front of her whole family? And have the audacity to laugh about it.
Nedem clicks his tongue. "No need to be so improper, Ragnus, save that after you're married."
Ragnus's smile was crooked as he looked at Mari's face. "Why aren't you smiling, little girl."
Mari didn't say a word, nor did she move. Was this what she wanted? A hostile husband who questions her every move. Did she lie to me about the letters? Or was it Aiyi who told her to lie?
The current crisis wasn't making sense, and I could feel the dagger in my kit stinging my side, waiting for me to pull it out. But what was I to do? Kill him? Slit his throat? It would only end in chaos.
"Well before we sign the closure, when will the wedding be, it's my nephew's fourth one, I must start planning."
"By summer," Aiyi said. "All weddings in Pisok take place during the sun season."
Ragnus shook his head. "I can't wait for that long. You see I require more children before I transfer back to Ouranmayi next fall, I'd like to have another child."
Mari gulped.
"She isn't breeding stock," I snapped. "She is your soon-to-be wife. She'll have your child when she is ready."
Everyone in the room looked at me, their eyes wide. "Mari!" Aiyi snarled.
Ragnus quivered. "Catch your tongue young girl, or I'll do it for you. With a knife." His voice was ruff and cold as ice. It pierced through me.
"Try me, let's see if you'll ever pick up a sword again."
Mari pinched me on my arm, clearly panicking. I sucked in the pain, staring at the man in coercion.
"How dare you speak to me in such a manner," she shouted, close to standing up.
Everyone in the room was on edge, even the Ganga women and the shinwa. They were probably afraid that Ragnus would kill me.
"A filthy-looking girl should learn her place," he scowled at me, standing up and taking an ax from his belt. I didn't even notice the weapon.
Mari stood up quickly pushing me back. "Please forgive her she doesn't mean what she says—"
"Silence demison! No one asked for your assistance ."
That did it.
I took the dagger from my kit in a quick fetch and jumped on the table, punching him in the jaw. There was a hard crack when he fell. It didn't take long for him to dodge my next punch and swing his ax, but I kicked it away, the metal hitting the wall and ripping a small hem of my robe. I put the dagger to his throat.
Everyone backed away. The shinwa were glued to the wall, and all life had drained from both Aiyi's and Mari's faces. They were speechless.
I held Ragnus tight as he tried to pull from my grip. "L-et g—go you…wrench."
I smiled, deepening the dagger to get a yelp from him. There was blood dripping down his uniform, and I watched as he choked in his filth. "Speak that way to my sister again," I spat. "And I'll take that other eye out with my bare hands."
In an instant Aiyi's hands were on my shoulder, pulling me away. When my eyes met her, I felt my vision blur to the right as the slap landed hard on my cheek.
Her face was pure fury, and I gasped when I turned to look at the mess I made. Ragnus was clinging to his throat as the Ganga women surrounded him. Nedem was on his knees in an instant, using his hands to stop the blood.
The dagger was still in my hand, painted in Ragnus's filth. I looked at Mari who was looking at Ragnus's body in terror.
I took a few steps back before running right out of the room, almost bumping into a glass artifact.
I ran out the Amani gates, running down the steps while holding the hems of my long robe. Asklander guards were eyeing me by the pillars, they stared as I ran down the bridge in a hurry, getting as far away from that place as possible.
It felt like I couldn't breathe, and I was losing air in each step, in each breath. I could hear footsteps behind me, but I drowned them out with the waves, the crashing sounds of water, and the splashes on the sand. The bun on my head untangled, prompting me to slow down. And just right by the sand, I felt my whole body turn around, a figure pulling me toward them.
Mari stands before me, her hand gripped on my arm, her face enraged. "Have you lost your senses!"
I felt like laughing, crying, running, but I was inflamed, enraged at her, at Aiyi, at that imbecile, at them all. For making such a horrible decision for my sister. For my sister making such a horrible decision for herself. The weight of the dagger still felt heavy in my hands. And if I—if I had pierced his throat, made him choke on his words, I would have stood in that room like a monster, like a demison as I've always been called.
I snatched my hand from Mari's grip, dropped the dagger on the wooden bridge, and looked deep into her red eyes. Her eyes were filled with hate, and they made my throat hurt. "I was protecting you—"
"No, you were making a FOOL out of me!"
The tears flowed down my cheeks abruptly, and I felt a sting of shame hit Mari's features. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to hurt him, but . . . I-I couldn't let him speak to you in that manner. Like you were a tool and not a human."
Her jaw twitched and I could see the tears that were filling her eyes. "Why would you bring a dagger to a Muungano?" she asked. "To your sister, Muungano, are you so obsessed with fighting that you'd try to hurt my soon-to-be husband?"
My eyes widened. "You're not possibly still considering marrying that bastard after he said that!"
"He is my husband," she said coldly. Her voice was harsh and sharp, it wasn't like her.
"But he's a horrid asklander! He called you a demison!"
"Only because you were acting like one!"
I felt every last part of my heart shatter. The only thing I could hear was the chirps of water birds playing on the surface, and the crash of waves. The person standing in front of me wasn't my sister—no it was someone else. I could only see the same boy who pushed me off the cliff. Demison, he called me.
Mari straightened her posture to seem taller than me, she sniffled back her snot and looked me in the eye. "He is not a bastard, he is my husband! And you shall refer to him as one."
Her eyes looked cold, inhuman. Whatever nonsense Aiyi put into her stuck, because she wasn't thinking properly. The Mari I knew would never marry a man who can't even see her as an equal, who would call her a demison because of her skin and ancestry, who would force her to pick him over her sister, the Mari I know would never.
I tried to stop the tears that were falling but they seemed impossible at this point, every part of my body was hurting. This wasn't the future Papa and Mita wanted for us. They wanted us to forge our path. Not have someone forge it for us. All I could do was beg.
"Please," I pleaded. "You will be miserable with him as a husband."
Her cold features were starting to crack, and I could tell she knew I was right. "I will learn to love him, despite his flaws, it's what a wife should do." She slowly started walking away, taking small steps back down the bridge. "Come back or not," she mumbled. "But another disrespectful word from you, and I'll never speak to you again."
I quickly grabbed her, turning her to face me. "You're lying!" I shouted.
She looked stricken. "Zuri enough!"
"Why is it that I believe in your self-worth more than you do yourself!"
Her glare was piercing. "Enough Zuri, don't be m'katsil!" Cruel.
"You cried in the tube when you were in my arms, you never wanted to marry him!"
Mari was struggling from my grasp as she tried to pull away. "Let go Zuri!"
"You don't have to set your life up for misery Mari! You have a choice!"
"For the love of gods—ZURI LET GO!"
I was grabbing hold of her shoulders now so she could look deep into my eyes. "Mita would have never wanted this for you. P-papa," my voice broke, "would have never wanted this for you."
"Both Papa and Mita are dead, Zuri!"
I let go, causing Mari to fall to the floor. Her words were like a piercing arrow, and I felt numb just looking at her. "Their gone Zuri!" Mari screamed, she sobbed hard as she stared at me. "Get that in your skull, they are gone!"
I opened my mouth, trying to force the words to come out, but they were so painful. "Y-you promised," I cried. "If y-you marry him, you will go far away, and I may never see you again. All of our dreams we drew on walls, all our years of sisterhood, it will disappear into nothing."
I wanted her to hug me. To tell me she wasn't leaving, to tell me she wouldn't leave me for such a despicable man, that she would never leave me. She was my only family. "All I have is you, Mari. I can't lose you too."
She sat on the ground for what felt like hours, staring at the ruff wooden tiles that made up the bridge, at my handcrafted sandals, at her hands, anywhere but my face. I could see the teardrops falling from her eyes, landing on the wood. She finally rose, patting the sand off her robe, rattling the beads with her hands. She lifted her hands to her neck and loosened the necklace I had given her before the Muungano.
"Mari—"
She stepped back, and threw the necklace far into the ocean, landing in a splash, causing the water birds to fly away. I looked at her in horror as she stared into the distant ocean. "This village is colorless," she simply said. "I will not spend the rest of my life as a village girl. Living and greeting the same people every day. Whether I am a farmer, an enchantress, a Ganga woman, all of it is colorless, and I want no part of it."
She looked down at the dagger on the floor. "I'm not a warrior like you and Aiyi. And I'm too weak to even carry baskets for days. I'll amount to nothing but a village girl with a pretty face and lighter skin if I stay here," she said standing there frozen. "At least in Khrâng, I may have a future where I don't have to worry about surviving the winter, where my children can have a destiny. Where my boys won't have to worry about getting drafted and dying in purgatory, and my girls are not seen as breeding stock. Even if I have to be a whore to an unloving husband, at least it will be worth it."
"So you'd rather leave me?" I choke, already knowing the answer.
Her lips trembled as she forced herself to look at me. "I'd do anything to leave this place, even if it means leaving the only family I have left."
Silence erupted all around us. I could no longer hear the crashing sounds of the waves, the chirps of the water birds, or my breathing. It all became stoic. It almost felt like I was back on the top of the waterfall, looking down at the vast ocean with someone I thought was my friend. Only to be pushed down with the streaming water. I could hear his voice all around me, demison, demison.
I never died that day, but it sure feels I'm going to die now. I must be hated by everyone, Aiyi, my future brother-in-law, the Ganga women, and my sister.
Life is so colorless in this village. I never understood Mita's words, but it seems Mari did, she understood it more than I ever could. I thought the village was peaceful, but to Mari it was dull. Like time wasn't moving here. I was just too blind to see her struggle. And now I was paying the price.
She turned her back on me, walking down the bridge, and back to the Amani gates, we're the small house stood inside the pillars.
I looked back at the dagger on the ground, staring at the sharp ridge. I thought back to how it was touching that asklanders throat earlier, how I threatened his life without hesitation, how I felt pleasure when seeing the fear in his eyes, the fear of being killed. I liked the power I had over him, I liked how I made him eat his words. It felt good, hurting a person like him.
I'm a demison, undoubtedly.