The Asters of Ogaza

Win some, lose some

         “Split into two groups?” Master Poja repeated Marjani’s statement.

          “Yes, sir,” she said. “We would split the Asters into two groups, and then play games, maybe weekly, or daily. If my team wins, I get to be the only Captain of the Asters for a week. The same goes for him.”

          Master Poja remained silent for a brief moment. “You still haven’t settled your disagreement, have you?”

          “Yes, sir. We—” Angel started.

          “Disagreements? We settled that already. The moment you and Princess Haile left.” Marjani cut him off with a big grin and Angel stared at her, astonished. “We agreed to do everything Angel suggested. And he was right, I may have been too extreme with my suggestions. Not everybody is a General’s daughter. They do not have strength and resilience I do.”

          “We agreed?” Angel blurted, shooting Marjani a confused look. She served her big grin again, and looked back at Master Poja.

          “Master Poja, I know what you’re thinking. That splitting us in teams may foster some sort of . . . rift and lack of togetherness. But don’t worry about that. It’s just a game, something we can use to have fun. We could play games, like tug of war, animal pretend, pick a brain, and all the games we used to play as children. I think that would be very fun. Right, Angel?” She looked at him with cute eyes and that same grin.

          “Right,” Angel said still confused. “Right.” He looked at Master Poja and feigned a smile, just to play along. “That’s a very brilliant idea that we both agreed on.”

          Master Poja nodded. “Very well then. I would discuss this with the Princess and get back to you. Well done.”

          “What does PJ have to discuss with me,” Princess Haile said as she approached them. She had worn a furry robe over her silk dress. Marjani tried to suppress the delight bubbling inside of her. Master Poja and the Asters bowed.

          “Your Majesty, they were running some of their suggestions through me. We can talk about it whenever you’re ready.”

          “Of course,” Princess Haile said. “Let’s walk. I was with Zina some minutes ago . . .” she said as they left, but they had not gone far away, so Angel and Marjani heard them.

          Angel noticed Marjani’s visage change. She made to leave and he grabbed her wrist gently. “Marjani, wait.”

           “What is it?”

          He let go off her. “We didn’t discuss any of the things you told Master Poja. We didn’t even settle the disagreement yesterday. Why did you lie to him?”

          “I didn’t lie alone though. You lied too.”

          “Because I had to. I didn’t want him to think that we’re not working as a team because were supposed to be working as a team. Why didn’t you carry me along?”

          She shrugged in the most nonchalant manner. “It just came to me this morning. I discussed it with Jael and she thought it was perfect. No hard feelings.”

          Angel let out a shocked chuckle. Jael, of course she discussed it with Jael even though he was Captain along with her, and not Jael. “Is this still about yesterday? And I’m not talking about our disagreement because that didn’t make you upset. You got excited when Princess Haile showed up, and then got upset when she said she was skeptical about you being Captain. Then you cried and yelled at me, saying something about not having anyone’s attention.” He made his voice softer than it already was. “Marjani, are you okay? Is anything troubling you? You can share it with me. Maybe I can help you—”

          “Help me do what?” Marjani spat.

          “Don’t let what Princess Haile said get to you. She was skeptical, but no longer is. And we’ve been Captains for more than a week now. You’re doing great, Marjani. If you’re broken inside, or hurting because something may have happened to you, I want to be there for you. I want to help you get through it.

          “Argh!” Marjani growled in anger. “Can you just stop saying you want to help me? Just stop it. I’m not broken. I will never be broken. So, if you’re looking for things that need fixing, maybe you should start looking at yourself first.” Her gaze shifted briefly to his legs.

          Angel’s esteem and feelings shattered into a million, tiny bits. He followed her gaze and it landed on his leg. His limp. The limp he had tried to outlive for nearly all his life. And here was Marjani, talking about it with such contempt. Like it was his fault. As if he wouldn’t get rid of it if he had the option. Marjani was done with what she had to say, because she started strolling away.

          “Does this have anything to do with Zina?” Angel pushed past the dryness of his tongue and spoke.

          Marjani turned back quickly, glaring at him in surprise. “What did you say?” she said slowly.

          “Perhaps . . . is Zina the reason you were upset yesterday?”

          Marjani scoffed, and then started laughing, her hoarse, odd-girlish laughter. But her laughter was laced with nervousness. “Why would I be upset about Zina?” She stepped closer to him. “Stop playing good boy. Stop playing detective and mind your own business.” She left him standing there, a hollow pit forming deep in his chest, the dryness of his tongue making him very thirsty. He had tried so hard to be someone, not just the boy with the limp, but someone who would live a worthy and happy life regardless of his deformity. But Marjani just tipped over everything esteem he had built, leaving him tremulous. And everything had come crashing to the ground.

                                                          ****

          Zina placed her shaky hand on Amare’s forehead. He was burning up and barely breathing. The swollen parts of his face were already forming purple tints.

          “Amare, please! Don’t die on me. I’d go get help. Wait here.” She sobbed, gently taking his head off her body so she can get up. But then, she felt his hands feebly hold her blouse. Even that was swelling too. He garnered all the strength he could spare—which was almost no strength at all—and then pointed to where his bag lay on the ground. Zina placed his head down carefully and then crawled over to pick his bag.

          “The bag? The bag. It’s here.” She wiped her tears, getting dirt all over her face.  “What is in the bag, Amare? What do I have to do?”

          The purple tints on his face were beginning to spread and Zina remembered that he can’t talk. That it was stupid of her to expect him to answer in the first place. She poured the contents of the bag onto the grounds. Waterskin, some rumpled paper, his dagger and a short journal fell out. She unwrapped the rumpled paper with quick hands, but there was nothing to see.    Then she opened the journal, skimming through and flipping pages to find anything that would help her. A page sliced through her middle finger, and blood started to seep through immediately. She paid no attention to it and then she saw a page boldly titled “Allergies”.

          The things listed were few: millet, tiger nuts, white beans, bacha leaves. Bacha leaves! She whipped her head up to look at him. His entire face was stained purple, and he was barely breathing. Allergic reaction to bacha leaves. That’s what this was. She sprang up to her feet and scouted through the leaves she could identify in those woods. Fallen banana leaves, withering corn leaves, bean branches, water leaf stems. Water leaf stems! She dropped to her knees and plucked as much as her hands could hold.

          Getting to where Amare was, all purple and swollen, she shoved some stems down past his swollen tongue and into his mouth. It didn’t go into his throat. She threw them into her own mouth instead, chewing it quickly like they were hot coals and then spitting them back out, she forced some past his tongue and into his throat, and rubbed the others over his swollen eyes and hands.

          “Please, Amare. Please.” She heaved, clutching his heavy hands like her life depended on it (it did). A sharp gasp escaped his lips and his chest rose. Zina’s eyes widened with hope. She clutched his hands even tighter. He let out another brief gasp, and then another, and another, until the short breaths became steady. They sat still for what seemed like an eternity, with Amare’s head cradled in her hands, and his breathing steadying from time to time, while she chewed more stems, spat them out and repeated the process. Occasionally, he muttered ‘Mama’ indistinctly and Zina felt physical pain in her chest.

          The swelling didn’t go down quickly. In fact, only when he tugged at her blouse, did she realize that his hands had shrank into half of its swollen size. It wasn’t normal yet, but it was progress. And she was very thankful for it. His eyes were still swollen, but at least they could open now. She wondered how heavy and painful they must be. They looked like little rocks were hidden under his lids. His tongue that could no longer fit into his mouth was now slowly retreating into its cavity.

          Her slit finger started to sting. She had forgotten all about it. She unconsciously ran her other hand through Amare’s lowcut hair. The way she did for Zo whenever she had a fever. The way Pa did for her. She drew her hand back like Amare’s hair was aflame.

           She heaved, watching as beads of sweat made the light brown hair at his edges and side burns curl. Her eyes wandered, past his now deflating eyes, to his flat nose that was slightly pointy at the tips. And then to his lips, with the prominent cupid’s bow that made the fullness of his lips look very . . . she averted her eyes. The same silly lips that always called her vulture! She would make him pay for this babysitting service she was rendering.

          “Zi. . .” Amare tried to sit up.

          She brought his head back into her arms. “Stay. When you feel stronger, we’d go back.”

          “Wa . . .wa . . .”

          Zina put her ears to his lips, unable to make out his words. “Wa . . .ter.”        He repeated. Zina slanted his head and tipped his waterskin, so he could drink. Though slowly, he gulped the entire thing at once.

          “Slow down, camel boy.” Zina tried to joke. Of course, he would be thirsty. Amare caught the joke and gave her a weak smile. He held out his arm, so she could raise him up. She hesitated because she didn’t think he was strong enough yet, but his arms were still outstretched, so she helped him sit up. The swelling had greatly reduced now, but it was still obvious that something had happened to him.

          “Vulture . . .is it really you?”

          Zina tsked. “Who else do you know rocks this bald head? Are you better? Don’t you want to lie back down?” He lifted his arms again, insinuating that she helps him stand.

          “No!” Zina stated. “I am not letting you get up just yet. You’re weak.”

          “Not.” He breathed. “I’m not weak.”

          “Right.” Zina rolled her eyes. Amare watched her intently, like her face was the map to the Obsidian. “What?”

          His lips upturned in his cynical smile. “Sna. . .”

          “What?” Zina leaned in to hear him.

          He pointed at her back. “Snake.”

          Zina didn’t know when her feet pushed her up and some meters away from Amare. When she stopped to turn back for Amare, she saw his still fragile body shaking with laughter.

          “Seriously?!” She glowered, stomping back to him. “You scared me, made me run away leaving you helpless here just to c***k a laugh? This is not the time to be making jokes, Amare.” She sat back down. “What if there was actually a snake here?

          Amare shook his head and pointed to his dagger. She remembered that she hadn’t put his things back into his bag, so she went to do that. “Well, I may be able to use a dagger to stab, but I can’t kill a snake with it. We might as well both die together in the dark woods.” She zipped the bag and fixed it on her waist like Amare did.

          “Let’s go,” Amare said, stretching his arms to her the way babies do when they want you to carry them. Zina scoffed. How was she going to carry a boy who was taller and bigger than her all the way back to the Palace?

          “Go where?” She made to sit back down and Amare gripped her blouse. It was tighter this time. He was regaining strength. “Oh, I see that you’re stronger now.”

          Amare loosened his hold. “I’m hungry. And thirsty.”

          Zina wasn’t sure if the amount of water she had left would satisfy him. She was getting thirsty herself. There was no other option, and so she helped him stand, settling his right hand on her shoulders and wrapping her left hand on his waist. “Point 1, checked.”

          They both smelled like soil and greens as they walked cautiously out of the woods and back into human habitation. Amare was burning up again, so she helped him out of his cloak, her body also slightly burning up from contact with his skin and muscles.

          The gallops of a horse, its neigh and people chattering was distant at first, but then it became closer and Zina tried to adjust them so they could walk at the end of the road and away from the noise. The horse stopped.

          “Asters!” A voice bellowed. Zina froze, and then tried to peek from the corner of her eyes. The carriage was unmistakable, with the engraved golden lion’s mane. She turned her body (and Amare’s) halfway and Crown Prince Taye was already taking confident, striking strides towards them, two Royal guards close behind him. He was robed in a long, black garment, and the hem of his cream-colored cashmere peeked out at his ankles. His neck and wrists were adorned with beads. He had on his signature white kufi, with the same lion’s mane engraved on it. Zina wondered if he ever took it off.

          The two Asters bowed and he touched their shoulders with his feathery fan. Only the Emperor and Crown Prince did that. When they raised their heads, the Crown Prince studied their faces.

          “Amare Steves?” He asked in his easy manner of speech. Zina’s heart raced. What do we tell him when he asks where we’ve been? Would we get in trouble? Be sent back home, putting a full stop to our mission?

          “Yes, Your Majesty,” Amare said.

          “I could never forget your face if I tried,” the Crown Prince said with a smile that caught Zina’s heart. Not because it was his beautiful leader smile (it was), but because he was smiling, in the face of the imminent danger she and Amare were in!

          “What happened to your face?” his eyebrows furrowed as he looked from Amare to Zina.

          “Uhm . . .well,” Zina started.

          “Allergies. I inhaled and touched something I shouldn’t have,” Amare answered and his knees got wobbly.

          “Take them to the carriage.” Crown Prince Taye ordered the guards and they obeyed instantly. “Let’s get you to the Royal physician. Every other explanation can come after. Are you hurt too?” He asked Zina with concerned eyes and she shook her head in negation. He gave a curt nod. “Good, but you need to be checked up too. Follow me.” He walked ahead of them and Zina wondered if this really was a sign for them to stop when they had merely begun.