Desert Company: Retrospective

The second day in the month of Zurgaa. Kwazhak woke up with an aching pain in his back, having returned to the Al-Bashwa hôtel and sleeping on a desk chair. The room was once filled with four others, but with three dead, and Shunji missing, the prince was left to sleep by himself. He couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness in his heart. How could he not feel lonely, when the very pupils he trained were gone?

 

“Is this the place of worship one has requested?” Kwazhak helped Saya walk over to the nearby mozkara in Taikai-ku, the building boring recent cracks that made the building shudder with age. “Don’t exhaust oneself, for thou art still in the healing process.”

“I’m fine, Kwazhak,” Saya replied hastily, while her arm was around his shoulder, “I have to-”

She tripped over a slightly raised stone on the walkway. Closing her eyes, Saya was a finger away from the ground as Kwazhak caught her by the back of her shemagh. Assisting her again, he advised her.

“Thou dost not need to overdo it.”

“I have to…” Saya stood on her knees, looking down at the ground. “I won’t forget the faith that Mouka taught me.”

“...” He let out a sigh, but not out of disappointment, out of her will. People always had different ways to pay tribute to those who have passed. Kwazhak did not believe in the Yyvubia, however he didn’t want to trample the original godlore of this world.

“Don’t just look at me, it’s embarrassing…”

“Thy wish is my command, Miss Saya,” He bowed as he had an idea. Kwazhak scooped her up with his one arm and sprinted into the hall. She bickered, but it saved the energy of walking an extra block to the mozkara. As he set Saya down near the front entrance, she looked away.

“I can walk by myself,” She pouted, flicking his ear. Limping as she opened the double doors, Saya waved back. “Thanks for the help Kwazhak!”

As soon as the doors clicked shut and the mass began, he knew that it was time to find a way out. He couldn’t waste a second. Glancing at the black bracelet, he already figured out a key point.

There were no security ploys that recorded their conversations using the bracelet. Suruj warned of the barrier and interacted with Tsuchiya, a member of the KWKK, but the official had no clue regarding their plans. Knowing this, Kwazhak had to tell him directly. The bracelet had basic functions, such as displaying the time and date, each muqatil’s betting price, and tournament start times, but there was nothing else to be searched of, except for the fact that it renders them unable to use sahar.

To experiment with an additional point, Kwazhak took a monorail to the city limits. When he stepped upon the black tiles of the gate, a Tasdahan garrison detained him stationed adjacent to the exit. Therefore he concluded his status as a muqatil prevented him from leaving, which resulted in an hour-long interrogation process.

“Hah, a Laoyuang? If ya’ don’t have any info then get out,” Kwazhak was pushed out the door violently. He had just finished the interrogation, and annoyed the investigator by dodging every single one of his questions. Dusting off the sand on his clothes, Kwazhak was beginning to see the variables laid out for them.

“What are you doing?”

He looked up to see Ayai Toya holding a blue parasol, while casually drinking a cold beverage. The small rainshade shaded her from the harsh sun during the hottest month, while Kwazhak was burning himself out in the open.

“I tried to test the muqatil’s authority, I suppose,” He played it off, shrugging his shoulders. “And what is the champion doing on this blistering day?”

“Merely idling. Now I will take my leave from this unfortunate encounter,” She replied while shutting her eyes. Toya turned around only to be stopped again.

“I have a request,” Kwazhak stated clearly, walking up to her. “One could say that it’s an important matter.”

 

A shan beautifully spread its monture to Kwazhak’s flick of his hand. To the quiet café, such hand fans were used on a clear day of Zurgaa. While the customers were met with mild air conditioning, Tsuchiya reserved a round table, all while working on several papers. The brisk brew of tsaa stained the folders with its scent, spilling out into the area.

“Ah, well isn’t it Mr. Laoyuang. And you’ve brought-” He stopped for a moment to look at the person behind him. Everyone around soon halted what they were doing to glimpse at the person behind the muqatil.

“Ayai Toya will be listening in on our convention,” Kwazhak took a seat.

“I don’t like your wording,” Toya closed her parasol and sat down, arms folded. “Care to tell me what this ‘important matter’ is?”

“You want the champion to know our plans… You take it from here, Mr. Laoyuang,” Tsuchiya placed his hand on his forehead.

“The focus of this congregation is to find potential methods to escape the Dineh Kazaàd.”

“...”

“... I’m leaving,” The champion stood up abruptly. Kwazhak placed his hand on her shoulder and seated her back down.

“Even if one does not want to contribute to our plan, I ask thee to take mind.”

“You’re all delusional. There’s not a chance that your scheming plots will succeed,” She slapped his hand away, standing up.

“Is that so? I don’t like thy wording, princess,” Kwazhak let out a devious farce.

“Hah? Who’s a princess? The only royal one is you, Laoyuang.”

They glared at each other, already up each other's throats. Tsuchiya sighed while he struggled to grasp the situation.

“Hai, hai. Let’s stop growling at each other and make progress,” He clapped, “Of course, I’m sure Mr. Laoyuang will take the bill for any orders in this shop.”

Tsuchiya hinted at Kwazhak with a couple of blinks. The prince didn’t know what ploy it was, but he decided to go along. Sure enough, Toya stayed and ordered pandesal and Tasdahan airag, a traditional alcoholic beverage made from fermented milk. If Kwazhak were to guess, then Tsuchiya knew that she liked to consume that specific combination.

From there, Kwazhak revealed his and Suruj’s intention to destroy the dome above the arena, and other possible routes. Tsuchiya gave his worth of the aid, listing the guard’s shift schedule and locations. Meanwhile, Toya stayed silent while enjoying the meal given to her.

“So, you promised something about Chiengg and the five Khoitan tribes?” Tsuchiya pressed the topic from yesterday, organizing his papers.

“Ah, that. At first I didn’t believe it, however after seeing a Máak for the second time I am sure of it,” Kwazhak turned his head to Toya, who kept silent the entire time. “Chiengg Wùwtua figured out the origins of the Máak ‘Khoitan’ tribe,” He paused before speaking. “The Máak people are not from Yahmajô̗ Alą̧̄utl.”

“... As in, not from this world? Ms. Toya?” He probed her, while she let out a sigh.

“I won’t confirm or deny, but the Máak are not Khoitan. That Chiengg proved that,” She revealed to them.

“Yes. During his glory days he constructed the world branches of language; Khoitanic and Waixing. All languages in this world, be it Khoit, Azu or even Renhua fall under this branch. The latter Waixing, is the language isolate of Máak alone. If it may be so, Toya, what does one call the word ‘sahar’ in thy tongue?” He explained, then asked a question.

“‘Mana’,” Toya responded, already annoyed. “What does it have to do with not being from this world?”

“Language undergoes evolution, always changing. Renyu underwent tonogenesis from Khoit due to its loss of final consonants. Kataga was born from the southern Khoit dialects, and changed due to isolation. Nippong borrowed off Renyu morphologically due to contact on the northern continent. And then, they continued to evolve into the modern Renhua, Galag, and Azu. Linguists proved that all languages divulged from a single point in time,” Kwazhak explained, using his knowledge from the books he read at Pengjau. “For the past decades of enlightenment, there is no linguistic explanation to connect Khoit to the Máak tongue.”

“That explains why Chiengg was silenced by…” Tsuchiya covered his mouth, as the revelation came to mind.

“If you are going to keep on like this, then I’ll be going,” Toya fixed her empty plate and glass on the table. “Gochisousama.”

“Very well, it seems there is nothing to lead off of but interrogation.”

“I don’t need your permission.”

 

Walking out of the café, Kwazhak felt a wave of fatigue hit every corner of his body. Perhaps it was stress, or merely the stiff interactions, or the weight he bore for attempting to sow the seeds of rebellion. He didn’t know whether he was effective at his rôle, trying to appeal to both the KWKK official and the champion at the same time. Wandering into an alley, Kwazhak threw himself against the wall and slouched.

“L, if it were thee, what wouldst thee doth?” He put his hands to his stomach, stabilizing his now erratic breathing.

“I see. So that’s how you really feel.”

Kwazhak looked to his left to see Toya standing on the sidewalk. He attempted to stand as Toya walked into the alley. Swiftly she grabbed his wrist, which Toya observed to be shaking and full of sweat. Disgusted, she let go and searched her pockets.

“Here. It’s water,” Toya handed him a tiny leather canteen. “My father once told me, ‘Do not look up to people. It destroys your own aptitude. Second, don’t look down on people. It clouds your judgment and rational thinking’.”

“Really?” He took it hesitantly and drank. “It appears you don’t take your father’s advice very often.”

Her face grew annoyed while Kwazhak chuckled. Closing the cap and handing it over to her, he rose and wiped his mouth.

“Thank you for the water.”

“...”

“I’ll take thy father’s wisdom into account. Although following another’s wisdom can prove to be difficult for many.”