Lenyang lay on his bed, his hands gently placed on his chest with his fingers lightly interlaced. The white silk blindfold draped over his eyes, adding to his air of mystery.
"I am sorry, brother," Leo choked out, his face streaked with tears as he knelt before Lenyang's bed, his head bowed in shame.
"If you hadn't saved me, you wouldn't have turned into this. A useless blind man who lies in bed all day. No longer fit to go to battle or defend the country. If only you didn't save me."
"His Royal Highness, protecting the crown prince was my duty as the general of Kirania."
"What about you?" Leo yelled. "Were all the years of training for nothing? How will you train and lead troops to battle now that you are blind?"
" Your concern is appreciated. However I require some rest. Kindly excuse yourself."
"Okay, but promise me you won't hesitate to let Noir inform me if you need anything."
After Leo left, the tears burning at the back of Lenyang's eyes fell as he struggled to contain the crushing pain that threatened to overwhelm him. Not believing he would never again fight in battle or oversee training.
Carefully, he removed his blindfold. Praying and hoping that his blindness was only a terrible nightmare he would finally wake up from. But when he slowly opened his eyes, everything was the same, blur as if looking through a fog, objects swimming and swaying before his eyes, colours and shapes seeming muted or dulled.
Trying to focus, he blinked rapidly, but nothing changed. He stretched out his hand in front of him, but he couldn't even outline his hand, finally coming to terms with reality.
Every thought, dream and plan he had for the future disintegrating like a fragile glass, leaving behind a fragmented emptiness that pierced his soul. And the pain gnawed at his core as it wrapped its tendrils around his heart, the world around him growing darker as if even the sun wept for him. Tears of profound sadness and loss trickling down his cheeks, mirroring the hearts of those who heard his story.
The mighty warrior had fallen.
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Aira wasn't sure when she stopped wanting to die, when the will to live began to rekindle.
Was it the moment Lala positioned herself between her and the approaching guard, acting as her saviour when he intended to beat her for slipping and falling, taking the beating instead or was it during one of Lala's storytimes when she narrated her sad story? She couldn't tell. All she knew was it started with her 一 the spark that gave her a fighting spirit, pulling her from the abyss that slowly sucked her in.
For a girl marked by a takna—a symbol of shame—because she hadn't bled on her wedding night before her husband chased her away, leading her parents to sell her off, Aira thought she would wish death upon herself more than her. Yet, despite the pain, she smiled, never once contemplating to end her life. The takna, a mark of shame to others, wearing it openly, refusing to bow to societal norms or the judgement of others.
As they shared their stories, strengthening one another in their small cell, it started to feel like a mockery to want to die. Some girls had gone through worse. Yet they fought on and cherished their lives. And for the sake of those other girls out there, suffering like them, Aira knew she had to live. She had to survive. She had discovered a purpose, a mission to save them all. She didn't know how. But she was determined to find a way. And that determination kept her going.
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After spending the entire day cleaning oysters, meticulously removing any encrustations or debris that could hinder the growth of pearls, Aira felt relieved the day was over, eagerly looking forward to dinner, the sole meal they received each day: A rice porridge that looked like a watery mush, with grains of rice floating in a thin and cloudy broth with no aroma or flavour whatsoever. Nevertheless grateful for it as it was better than nothing
Standing in line, waiting to be served the watery mush with a wooden bowl in her hand, Lala behind her, Xona, the master's right-hand man, emerged from the shed where Mea was held. His hands stained with blood, serving as a chilling reminder of the fate that awaited those who dared to steal the precious pearls—a merciless beating to death.
Aira, catching his gaze, quickly averted her eyes and bowed her head, shrinking back to avoid making eye contact or triggering his explosive temper. And within seconds, she heard an echoing slap as he berated a girl for looking at him without exhibiting submission or fear.
"Go back to your cell. There will be no dinner for you tonight!"
Xona revelled in the power he derived from instilling fear in the girls, and Aira always understood her role: to tremble at the mere sight of him.
Once Aira received her portion of the watery mush, she sat on a nearby rock, where Lala and Ila soon joined her. In silence, they consumed the watery mush that barely filled their empty stomachs and returned to their dimly lit cell, settling onto their thin mats, ready to call it a day when Xona swung the cell door open, his voice piercing through the melancholy air, calling out for Eshe. The mere mentioning of her name freezing her in place, for she knew all too well what the master summoning at this hour meant. The master had taken a liking to her and demanded her presence to entertain him throughout the night.
Dread washing over her, threatening to consume her trembling form, she shook her head in silent protest, remaining rooted to her mat. A wave of resistance coursing through her veins, unable to bear the thought of submitting her body to the master. Xona, enraged by her defiance, approached her and seized her by the hair, yanking her forcefully from the cell as the girls watched helplessly, a collective breath escaping their lips, a mixture of relief and anguish. Hearts aching for Eshe, for they knew the torment that awaited her.
After the guard shut the door, Aira positioned herself on her mat, facing the wall, ready to embrace the much-needed respite of sleep. However, Lala placed her chin on Aira's shoulder, gently laying a piece of bread on her hand, which rested on the mat.
"Here, you must be hungry."
Aira eyed the bread suspiciously, her voice laced with worry. "Where... did... you... get... this?" she asked cautiously. "Please... don't... tell... me... you... stole... it. What... if... Xona... finds... out... and... kills... you?"
Lala shook her head, offering reassurance. "He won't find out. Trust me. Now, eat up and get some rest."
Giving in to her hunger, Aira quickly stuffed her mouth with the bread while Lala took some to share with Ila. Ila, too hungry to question its origin, ate it gratefully, not caring where it had come from.
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Finally, the day of Purifex arrived, a day that Aira always looked forward to since they only had to work for half a day, followed by a bath in the cold pool. A rare necessity they seldom experienced, permitted only once a week to purify them for the day of worship, Belis.
With a rough stone in hand, Aira vigorously scrubbed her legs when suddenly, water playfully slapped her face and neck, Lala laughing mischievously, a playful glint in her eyes.
Aira instinctively shielded her face from Lala's attack as Ila splashed water on Lala, sparking a water fight between them, with laughter filling the air. Soon after, the rest of the girls joined in, and their collective laughter echoed through the surroundings as they joyfully splashed water on each other. In that fleeting moment, their burden forgotten as they immersed themselves in the innocent pleasure of the water, kindling a brief yet precious joy within their hearts.
"This is not the place for you to have fun! Get your ugly bodies out of the water now!" The stern voice of the guard shattered the playful ambience, and the girls reluctantly climbed out of the pool, making their way back to their cells. Once there, they changed into clean tunics and skirts before settling down to enjoy their pieces of bread. As it was customary for the master to provide bread on the day of Purifex, believing it would please the gods.
Amidst the chatter and giggles over their bread, Eshe was among the six who sat quietly on their mats, for they couldn't understand or talk zarikian as they weren't from either of the four states of Zakar, withdrawn and her inner turmoil palpable.
Aira understanding her struggle all too well, as she also had experienced how it felt to have your beautiful flowery world turned into a dark stormy void. And without hesitation, she made her way to Eshe's side, settling beside her on the mat and gently taking hold of her hand, offering a comforting squeeze.
Don't worry. The pain gets bearable, and slowly you stop hating yourself.
Realising those might not be the words Eshe wanted to hear, Aira swallowed her words and softly spoke in Husia, a language Eshe was familiar with despite being from Diman. "I... am... sorry... you... had…. to... go... through... that. But... I... am... here... for... you."
Eshe flashed a smile that didn't quite reach her lips, blinking away her tears in response to Aira's gesture of support.
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It was Danriz, the day that marked the beginning of the week. Hearing the guard striking the bars of their cell with a stick, Aira shot up from the mat, her eyes barely open, weighed down by drowsiness, her body moving almost automatically programmed by the fear of being whipped for not waking promptly. The memory of the searing sting of the whip upon her back from her third day here still fresh in her mind.
Dragging her weary feet out of the cell, Aira found Lala waiting for her outside, holding a handful of dirt. It had become their routine for the past month, as Lala believed smudging dirt on Aira's face would conceal her beauty and make her less noticeable to the master. Although Aira knew it was impossible for the master to choose her, being a stammerer, as he preferred his girls flawlessly perfect, she accepted Lala's gesture, appreciating her intentions. Once Lala was satisfied with her handiwork, they hurried to their assigned tasks: Lala to harvest the pearls and Aira to clean the oysters.
As Aira continued to work, the grip of drowsiness still weighing her down, she couldn't help but yearn for the mornings at home, where she could sleep peacefully until noon. Longing for the simple pleasures of reading books, eating, and staying out of her stepmother's way, realising she had taken the luxury of ample sleep for granted.
The sun climbing higher in the sky, signalling the approach of noon, beads of sweat mingled with the dirt that clung to Aira's face, a gnawing hunger tugging at her stomach, her throat growing dry. And she tried to ease the pangs of hunger by replacing her thoughts on the food she would be enjoying at home with the painful memories of her experiences with her stepmother and stepbrother, but it offered little solace.
"Stammerer, the master wants to see you." The statement from Xona's brother struck her like lightning, fear holding her entire being captive, her heart pounding in her chest, its frantic rhythm matching her chaotic thoughts.
Why would the master want to see me? I thought he preferred beautiful and perfect girls. What made him change his mind? Did I not apply enough dirt on my face?
Questions swirled in her mind, giving way to a transformation within her. The initial grip of fear gradually shifted to a smoldering anger that flickered in her eyes as she remembered that fateful night with Shomari and realised history was about to repeat itself. Her trembling hands clenched into fists, her knuckles turning white with the force of her grip. Her brows furrowed, her face set with resolve. The seed of anger taking root, fueling defiance and an unwillingness to let others treat her body as if it were a tree, plucking fruits as they pleased.
"I can't let it repeat itself," she vowed silently. "I would rather drown myself in the river than submit my body to him or have Xona beat me to death."
"Stammerer, we don't have all day. Move it!"
Xona's brother approached her while the desperate pursuit of escape from the master's clutches consumed her, remaining motionless oblivious to the approaching figure of Xona's brother. Her mind racing with strategies contemplating every possibility that might lead to freedom. And just as he reached out to grab her arm, Lala pulled him back and stood before Aira, her arms outstretched in a protective stance.
"Take me! I will go in her place. She is already a shell on the verge of breaking. I can't let the master break her."
"Lala, what do you think you are doing? Do you have a death wish?" Xona's brother asked, but Lala didn't respond.
"You know master hates branded girls, and even if I let you take her place, it is impossible to save her. Someone has already bought her."