Tij stormed out of the chief's hall, his father's scathing words still ringing in his ears. As usual, nothing he did was ever good enough for Zetij. This time the argument had been over Tij's handling of capturing the blue-eyed witch and bringing her back to Kebo.
For once, Zetij had briefly complimented Tij's success a few days ago when he arrived with the witch in tow. But it didn't take long for the chief to find fault again, berating Tij over the slightest perceived misstep in the operation.
"You moved far too slowly! You risked alerting the Idolloans of her capture!" Zetij had thundered, his booming voice echoing through the wooden hall. "And why did you insist on keeping her restrained the entire journey? She could have come broken or scarred!"
Tij had tried to explain his cautious approach, born from years of training by the Kebo's elite warriors. But his father merely scoffed and waved a dismissive hand. "No more excuses. You're the best tracker we have, but you'll never become a true warrior until you learn to stop fearing your own shadow."
The insult stung, making Tij's teeth grit and his hands clench into fists. He knew better than to argue further - his father would never admit he was wrong. So he had turned and stormed out, the chief's disdainful eyes burning into his back.
As Tij burst through the doorway into the dusty streets of Kebo, he saw Muchi leaning against a post, smirking at him knowingly. His cousin had no doubt heard every word of the argument.
"Having a run-in with father-dearest again, eh Tij?" Muchi cackled, pushing off the post to follow the fuming young warrior. "When are you going to learn that you'll never measure up in Zetij's eyes?"
"Shut your mouth, you conniving snake!" Tij snarled over his shoulder, refusing to stop or even look at the warrior who almost looked like him but older and with long dreadlocks. He knew Muchi was right, he just couldn't admit it.
Muchi merely guffawed again, keeping pace easily despite his apparent frailty. "Well don't take it out on me, boy. Save that anger for your next hunt. The Fire Plains to the east have been stalked by a vicious beast. A perfect target for the great Tij to take down, wouldn't you say?"
Tij said nothing, but his step faltered briefly at the prospect of a new hunt. As much as he hated to admit it, losing himself in the thrill of the hunt was one of the few times he felt free of his father's domineering presence.
With a last wheezing laugh, Muchi peeled off, allowing Tij to stalk away alone and seethe over the latest argument, already beginning to ponder whatever new threat lurked in the Fire Plains. His father could never rob him of his skills as a hunter, no matter how much he tried.
The evening sun beamed down on the cornfields, where Ona and a group of young women were harvesting the ripe crops. As she deftly plucked an ear of corn from its stalk, Ona saw a familiar figure storming down the pathway - it was Tij, the strong, brooding warrior who sometimes joined the hunting parties.
Furrowing her brow, Ona watched Tij disappear around a bend, his fists clenched and jaw set in a terrifying scowl. She turned to Fala, the girl working beside her who had recently become a fast friend.
"What's gotten into Tij this time?" Ona asked, straightening up to wipe the sweat from her brow. "He looks angrier than a wounded boar."
Fala followed her gaze down the path before shrugging. "Probably just had another one of his legendary arguments with Chief Zetij."
Ona's eyes widened in surprise. "Zetij? As in, the chief of our village? You mean Tij is his son?"
Nodding, Fala brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. "Didn't you know? He's the chief's youngest - been trying to prove himself worthy of being a great warrior since he was little."
"I had no idea," Ona mused, thinking back to her interactions with the sullen but heroic Tij. He had never mentioned his lineage.
Something else occurred to her then. "Wait...so if Tij is Zetij's son, does that mean Titi is his sister?" She thought of her new friend Titi, who embodied such natural poise and leadership.
"The one and only," Fala confirmed with a grin. "Titi is the chief's eldest child and heir to lead the village one day. Though let's be honest, everyone knows she's already doing a better job than old Zetij."
Ona couldn't help but agree. Titi was brave, intelligent, and fair - beloved by all where her father was widely feared. She felt a pang of confusion that Titi had never revealed her royal roots to Ona.
As if reading her mind, Fala spoke up again. "Don't take it personally that Titi didn't tell you about her family. She likes to let her actions speak for themselves, not her title."
That made sense, Ona realized. Titi didn't need to rely on her birth status to prove her worth. If anything, that must be part of the friction with her father and brother - they still depended on respect through fear and lineage.
"I've heard Zetij can be quite harsh, especially with Tij," Fala continued. "Constantly trying to toughen him up and make him live up to some impossible standard of what a warrior son should be."
Ona felt a surprising twinge of sympathy for Tij then. No wonder he always seemed so tense and angst-ridden if he was constantly under his father's impossible expectations. She wondered if Zetij had ever really seen Tij for thecompetent, brave tracker and hunter he was.
"In any case, I'm sure those two will move on to the next blowout argument before the day is through," Fala said with a shrug, bending down to harvest some more corn. "Call me selfish, but I'm just glad I don't have to deal with that kind of family drama."
Laughing lightly, Ona joined her friend in the fieldwork, her mind still pondering the new context around Tij, Titi, and the patriarchal family. For all their disagreements, Ona realized the chief's children were still both heroic figures she admired greatly - even if they seemed to be heading down very different paths.
The warm evening breeze ruffled the corn husks as Ona turned back to the young woman beside her, curiosity piqued. "Can you tell me more about Tij?"
Before Fala could respond, a familiar voice rang out. "Princess? I didn't expect to find you here learning the harvest tasks."
Ona twisted around to see Titi striding towards them down the dirt path, a look of friendly surprise on her face. The other young women immediately straightened, murmuring respectful greetings to the chief's daughter.
Titi waved them off with a warm smile. "No need for formalities, please continue your work."
With a flurry of nods, the girls quickly gathered their bushels and scattered, leaving just Titi and Ona amid the rustling corn stalks.
Titi's gaze settled on her friend, eyebrows raised. "I'm impressed you've taken an interest in the more rural duties. Somehow I envisaged you learning the finer arts of the town."
A sheepish grin tugged at the corners of Ona's mouth as she brushed a loose lock of hair back from her face. "Well, maybe a few weeks ago. But I've come to embrace all aspects of Kebo's culture and heritage." Her expression took on a more impish cant. "Even the menial labor."
Titi laughed, the melodious sound carrying on the breeze. Moving closer, she nudged Ona's shoulder conspiratorially. "So what secrets of my reclusive brother were you uncovering here, hmm?"
Ona's brow furrowed a little as she arched a brow at Titi. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Titi's lips quirked in a teasing smile. "I didn't realize I needed to issue formal announcements about my familial relations."
Ona gave an exaggerated huff, bumping her friend's shoulder in return. "You know I've been dying to get the inside story on the mysterious Tij. Was he born with that brooding scowl permanently etched on his face?"
Snickering, Titi shook her head ruefully. "I'm afraid so. He was even scowling as an infant, a fact my mother loved recounting any chance she got."
The two women dissolved into laughter, the easy camaraderie washing over them like a warm embrace. As their mirth slowly faded, Titi cast a sidelong glance at her companion.
"In truth, Tij's always been the quieter, more reserved one. He keeps a tight circle." Her expression turned a touch wistful. "I sometimes worry he isolates himself too much from the world."
Ona felt a small pang of something difficult to identify. Perhaps a fleeting yearning to help shed light into the shadowed depths of Tij's solitary world.
Giving herself an inward shake, she cleared her throat. "Well, his loss is my gain - I'll just have to appreciate your sparkling company doubly."
Titi's face split into another bright grin at her words. "Speaking of company, break time is well earned, I'd say. Let me regale you with some highly entertaining tales of Tij's most curmudgeonly childhood moments..."
Their laughter mingled with the whispering rustle of the corn stalks, two kindred spirits embracing the simple joys of friendship and family on the fading sun-warmed air.
Ona couldn't deny the veiled aura of mystery that seemed to enshroud Tij. As she and Titi strolled away from the corn fields, swapping amusing anecdotes and giggling like carefree youths, her mind kept straying back to the enigmatic young man who had abducted her and would stop at nothing to keep her abducted.
Perhaps it was mere intrigue at someone so aloof and solitary in their closely-knit village. Or maybe the unexplained air of gravity that clung to Tij, belying his years, piqued her curiosity. Whatever the reason, Ona found herself inexplicably drawn to unraveling the secrets behind his hateable perpetual brooding scowl.
Still, she cautioned herself from reading too deeply into her sudden fascination. As the daughter of one of Out-earth's esteemed rulers, mastering the art of relating to all walks of people would be crucial. Tij's reticent and guarded nature presented a unique challenge in that regard.
Yes, that's all this was, Ona reasoned to herself. A simple desire to understand an individual who might one day ascend to a civic leadership role. Properly gauging how to navigate his prickly demeanor could be an invaluable skill. At least, that's what she repeatedly told herself as Titi recounted tale after tale of her brother's legendary surliness and aversion to social gatherings.
Stifling a laugh at a particularly comical story, Ona couldn't shake the persistent sense that there were entire untold depths to Tij's character yet to be plumbed. And a small, earnest part of her hoped to one day be among the privileged few to witness him unguarded and unmasked from that cynical persona.
For now though, she forced those musings aside, allowing herself to be swept up in the warm current of Titi's easy affection and zest for life. If fate obliged her curiosity about the brooding village chief's son, so be it. But Ona knew better than to borrow troubles before they materialized.