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The air tasted salty, and the atmosphere buzzed with the voices of fishermen, traders, and the calls of pelicans echoing through the pier.
Mahalia and Jaslin stood a few feet away, watching as the men unloaded their luggage.
Mahalia grinned widely.
"Finally, I'm one step closer to my goal. Here I am—Porto Jamon."
Porto Jamon, an island located at least 250 kilometers from Easteford, was renowned for its bustling port, a joint diplomatic venture between Easteford and the northern continent. The island was teeming with fishermen, sailors, petty traders, and merchants—a place hardly suitable for a noble like Mahalia.
So what exactly were they doing there?
---
Two Weeks Earlier
Mahalia and her family were still reeling from the blow Awin had dealt them. Many in the kingdom were perplexed by their reluctance to join the royal family, viewing their resistance as both arrogant and impudent.
Awin had visited their residence a few times, but each time he was 'respectfully' turned away because Mahalia refused to meet him. Normally, this would have upset him, but Awin was so confident that Mahalia would eventually marry him that he didn't bother pestering her. Instead, he relayed his messages through the Mistress of Royal Revelry, Hally Winters, the woman responsible for organizing all royal events.
Hally had convinced Mahalia and Jaslin to visit the renowned Vitalis spa.
"Madam Winters, I really don't think this is necessary," Mahalia protested, though she knew it was futile. She was already at Vitalis, a masseuse preparing her for a massage.
"Nonsense! You're about to be wed. Your body must be in top condition," Hally retorted.
Mahalia rolled her eyes. It was supposed to be her wedding, but the very thought of it made her shudder. I wouldn't mind the apocalypse happening right about now, she thought grimly.
"Lady Mahalia, this is not the demeanor I expected," Hally continued. "I got you a reservation at the Vitalis—the only place in the sector that offers heavenly massages. And the mineral springs? Magical." She whispered the last word as though it carried some great secret.
Mahalia remained silent, unwilling to argue. The massage was so relaxing she found herself drifting off, only to be jolted awake by the masseuse's curious question.
"Hmmm?" she mumbled groggily.
"I asked, what does this tattoo mean?"
Mahalia flinched. A tattoo? She wasn't the original owner of this body, and she'd never noticed it before. Besides, a noblewoman having a tattoo was scandalous. Flustered, she turned to her cousin.
"Jaslin?"
Jaslin walked over and examined the tattoo on the nape of Mahalia's neck. "Oh, this?"
Mahalia turned to face her, confused. "You know about it?"
"Of course I do. You wouldn't shut up about it," Jaslin replied, raising an eyebrow.
Mahalia stared, unsure how to ask about the tattoo without raising suspicion. It nagged at her, though—a feeling that it was important.
"The tattoo…" Her voice faltered as she searched for the right words. "Is it still decipherable?"
Jaslin smirked. "Of course, though in an uncanny way. The word 'Qaya' is written so boldly."
Mahalia shot up from the bed. "What?! Qaya? That's what it says?"
Jaslin looked alarmed. "May, you're scaring me. Don't you remember this tattoo? You always said it was proof of her."
Mahalia—no, Qaya—suddenly felt a sharp headache. She clutched her head. "Who?"
"Your mythic twin. That's what you called her."
The world seemed to spin as Qaya was overwhelmed by a flood of emotions. She had assumed taking possession of Mahalia's body was some sort of karmic twist, but now it seemed there was more to the story.
"Why didn't it occur to me before?" she thought. "I also have a tattoo on my wrist. There's a connection."
Hally Winters interrupted her reverie. "You look pale. Maybe the massage isn't helping." As she said this she glared at the masseuse "How about a dip in the Vitalis Springs? They say a long soak guarantees youthfulness."
---
Minutes Later
Mahalia dunked her head beneath the water and resurfaced. The spring's waters were soothing, but her mind raced. The headache had worsened, and fragmented memories began to surface.
"These aren't mine… Are they Mahalia's? The real Mahalia's?"
The memories became overwhelming. She felt herself drowning in them as they flooded her mind.
---
Two Years Ago (Real Mahalia's POV)
Mahalia sat hunched over her desk, poring through books. She sifted through countless volumes, her confusion mounting.
"I'm close. I can almost feel it," she mumbled to herself.
Jaslin entered, carrying a lantern in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. She looked drowsy. "When do you plan on turning in for the night?" she asked with a yawn.
"I don't know, Jay. I might be here till dawn."
Jaslin set the tea on the table, watching her cousin intently. It upset her to see Mahalia, usually so content with a simple, peaceful life, so consumed by this obsession.
"Is it worth it?"
Mahalia removed her glasses, smiling faintly despite her exhaustion. "I'm certain of it. It feels like a part of me is crying out, yearning to be reunited. I can't rest until I find her."
"What if she doesn't exist?"
"She does," Mahalia insisted. "I can hear her calling me. She calls me Qaya—her other half. The angst, the terror, the pain… It's too vivid to not be real."
"You're certain because of that?"
"Why not? It's not like I have a reason not to be. My name is Qaya, but Mother sounds so weary whenever she says it. She tells me to go by my middle name. There's this weird tattoo on my back, and, most of all, I remember seeing her from my childhood."
"What?" Jaslin looked utterly shocked by the revelation.
"It's in bits and pieces, but I was briefly kidnapped when I was young. They say I was so traumatized that I forgot what happened. But for a long time, until I reached womanhood, I dreamed of this girl."
Jaslin fell silent, her gaze fixed on the flickering lantern light.
"So, what are you going to do now?"
Mahalia sighed, put her glasses back on, and resumed reading.
"I have a huge lead. I went to the Grand Library. I had to use my entire savings to get in, but it wasn't futile."
"Really?"
"I was browsing through the catalog when I saw a book titled The Stories of Mythic Twin. But, sadly, the book itself was nowhere to be found. No one checked it out."
"Isn't that a dead end?" Jaslin's confusion grew with every word her cousin spoke.
"I have a last-resort plan," Mahalia said, her voice firm. "I only intended to act on it if all other avenues proved futile. And it seems that's the case now."
Jaslin wanted to ask what Mahalia was planning, but she kept quiet. She knew her cousin well enough to fear any incredulous scheme, given how many ludicrous things Mahalia had done for this same cause.
"An inside source told me that the book was banished by the former king because it was an illegal publication from Porto Jamon."
"Mahalia!" Jaslin exclaimed.
"Calm down. Don't you see what I'm getting at? For the king to ban it, there must be some truth to it."
"So, what are you suggesting? You'll go all the way to Porto Jamon for some baseless story? What if the girl isn't there?"
"I wasn't expecting her to be there. And yes, I'll go all the way to Porto Jamon. Heck, I'll go all the way to hell if it means I'll answer her call."
---
End of flashback
Qaya burst into tears. Interacting with Mahalia's memories was overwhelming, but one thing became clear: she was the person Mahalia had been searching for.
"I'm so sorry, Mahalia," she whispered, "for forgetting you."
When she stepped out of the spring, her hair dripping wet, Jaslin noticed her troubled expression. "What's wrong?"
Mahalia didn't answer. She walked to her closet, grabbed a dress, and began changing.
"Answer me!" Jaslin demanded, grabbing her cousin's shoulders.
Mahalia finally looked at her. "I'm going to Porto Jamon."
Jaslin blinked, momentarily stunned. Then her face hardened. "This again? I thought–is it because we brought up the issue of the tattoo?" She glared at the masseuse, who just shrank back.
"I've been too complacent," Mahalia said, tears welling in her eyes. "I have to find the truth before I'm forced to marry that—" she stopped herself. "I'll go to Porto Jamon, even if the whole family tries to stop me."
Jaslin softened, pulling her cousin into a hug. "I'll support you. I'll go with you to Porto Jamon."
---
Back to the Present
The duo walked gingerly through the bustling port.
"This smells like fulfillment!" Mahalia chimed enthusiastically.
"All I can smell is fish," Jaslin quipped.
As they waited for a carriage, a familiar voice called out behind them. It carried a mix of surprise and mischief.
"Well, who do we have here?"
Mahalia froze, recognizing the man's voice. Ugh! Could things get any worse?
To Be Continued...
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