The Asters of Ogaza

26

             Princess Haile was absent for trainings, again. The Asters were not little children, they sensed immediately that something must be wrong, especially since Master Poja’s unreadable face now had a hint of something that looked like sadness, which he converted to sheer sternness. He didn’t say ‘may the best clan win, but may all clans have fun’. He just described the game; the gun was fired and the clans played. The Water clan won, but they didn’t celebrate. Nobody did. Marjani panicked like the Princess had been abducted, and Zina, Amare and Angel stayed close together, processing.

          “This doesn’t feel right. Something is up,” Angel said.

          “Well, something’s always up with that family,” Amare tried to make light of the situation but they didn’t laugh.

          “We’d have to wait to see if she calls for me, right?” Zina wanted to make her heart stop worrying, to shoo the foreboding feeling away, but she couldn’t. Maybe it was the ‘Raya’ in her, but she knew for sure that something was up.

          “And she never fully explained the whole thing with her throne and her family to you?” Amare asked and Zina shook her head no.

          “Till we’re certain, lets be calm, and hopeful. She could be alright, maybe she’s just having a bad day.” Angel placed an assuring hand on Zina’s shoulder and she returned a small smile.

          “You’re right.”

          “Anfari,” Master Poja came to them and the three Asters bowed.

          Zina’s eyes dilated and they held hope. Maybe the Princess was calling for her already. And she was ready to listen to her cry and be Raya, no, Zina. She couldn’t possibly be Raya to the Princess.

          “Yes sir,” she replied.

          “Come with me.” He walked slowly but a good distance away from the boys and Zina fell into place beside him.

          “Is this about the Princess?” The perfect blend of curiosity and anxiety got the best of her, and she asked before Master Poja even said anything. He heaved, and then nodded once.

          “Is she alright? Does she want me to come to her quarters?”

          “She doesn’t,” Master Poja stated with firmness. “She needs her space and doesn’t want to see anybody.” He put his right hand inside his robe and emerged with the small box wrapped in fine, shiny velvet. “She asked me to give you this.”

          Zina stared at the box like it was snake eggs, she took a step back like the box would jump her if she was too close to it.

          “Take it, Zina.”

          She tipped her head up to look at him. His dark skin that was alive yesterday looked like it was losing colour today, his lips were pressed into a straight line, in a way that showed that you wouldn’t be able to get a smile out of him even if you put a dagger to his neck.

          “Where is she?” Master Poja’s brows linked into one with confusion. “She’s not in her quarters, is she?”

          “Zina Anfari.”

          “Because she wouldn’t ask you to give me a gift,” Zina continued. “She wouldn’t ask anybody to give that to me. Even if she was broken and drenched in her tears, she would give it to me. Herself.”

          Master Poja heaved and looked away from her. He wondered exactly how close the Princess had been with Zina, that she was able to easily read the truth in situations like this.

          “I could take this back, tell her you didn’t want it, and then you can answer to her. But—”

          “Take it,” Zina held his gaze, unafraid. “Tell her I don’t want it. I want to answer to her myself. I want her to give that to me.”

          Master Poja dropped the box, and it settled on the ground with a small thud. He opened his mouth as if to speak, pressed it back into that hard line, and walked away.

          Zina bit her lip, conflicted between leaving the box there or taking it with her. Leaving it there would be a loss, there may be something important that Princess Haile had left for her, answers to the questions Master Poja refused to reply to. She bent to pick it up, but not before her sweet roommate got there and swooped it up.

          “What is this?” she demanded an explanation from Zina, who didn’t know what it was.

          She tried to take it back but Marjani raised it above her head. And poor Zina, she was probably the second shortest, if not the shortest Aster. She couldn’t do things like this with tall Asters, like Marjani.

          “Marjani, I don’t want to cause a scene. If you’re bored, go play with Jael. Give that back.”

          She glared at Zina. “Did the Princess call for you? Is that why she gave you this? Is there something she wants you to do for her? Is she okay?” She was shooting Zina eye lasers, but her voice was very concerned.

          Zina could easily have told her the gift was from Pa, she could have said anything at all. But Marjani was so annoying and she couldn’t stand her. “The Princess wasn’t here because of you! You’re always in her face, always showing up where she is. Always clamoring for some sort of attention from her, and it disgusts her.”

          Marjani lowered her hands unconsciously and Zina snatched her little box. Marjani’s mind ran fast and wild. Zina had messed with her head and she was successful. Marjani wondered if her note, written in the most attractive of cursives, if her hand knitted shawl and small vials of perfume put the Princess off. She spent a lot of time knitting (which she hated), she went out of her way to get those perfume, she wrote over 27 notes and tore them up before finally deciding that the 28th was perfect and conveyed her feelings effectively.

          Did she really find it disgusting? Did she really find her obtrusive? Annoying enough to not even acknowledge the gifts and just stay up in her quarters to avoid her? Her eyes stung with tears. Nobody could ever love her. Want her. Nobody could ever care enough to see her, or listen to her. She roughly wiped the tears off her face and marched to the dorms, not bothering to call Jael along.

                                                                                      ****

          Zina and Amare went out again. But this time, they dragged Angel along. They had no plans of going into the woods, and they had spent too much time discussing the Princess and admiring the ruby studded, silver bracelet the Princess had tucked into the box for Zina along with a note that read Wait for me, Raya.

          Amare felt fatigued and convinced them to walk around town, breathe air that wasn’t Royal family infested, and just bond. The entire town was bustling with people running around, preparing for Commemoration— the day when North Ogaza would hold a feast to remember the soldiers and all the people who died because of the war. The entire kingdom would first burn incense and the families of the deceased would mourn and cry all over again, before the merriment and feasting would begin and not end until the sun rises the following day.

          They hadn’t factored in the fact that Commemoration was about a week away when they decided to leave the Palace.

          “We could . . .go back. We don’t have to be outside the Palace to bond. We do that all the time,” Angel suggested. The colourful banners were going to make Zina and Amare remember the family members they had lost, and he didn’t want it to weigh them down.  

          “It’s okay. I want to be outside,” Zina smiled and looked at Amare who nodded accordingly.

          “Are you sure?” Angel probed.

          “Of course. This” ­— he waved his hands here and there— “doesn’t bother me; I always think about them anyway,” Amare said and Zina weirdly patted his forearm. “Okay, where do we go first?”

          Angel wanted to go to a music bar and entertain them with his singing, which Zina didn’t know he could do amazingly well till he opened his mouth and his voice was the only thing her mind could focus on. Amare first took them to a wrestling ground, where they watched able bodied men and women brawl in a small ring, and a too lean man who smelled like old books raised the hands of whoever won.

          When Amare volunteered to wrestle, Zina and Angel bounced up and down like younglings who just got new clothes, cheering him on, and he feeding on their energy, he destroyed all five of his opponents and won every round. He was gifted with 45 cowries he shared evenly amongst the three of them.

            Next, he took them to a market square, where he told completely absurd and fake stories to people who sat in a semi-circle, listening to him like he was some wise old prophet. Zina scoffed and rolled her eyes for half of the time, while Angel was totally into his friend’s lies, ‘wowing’ and ‘ahhing’ and laughing along with all the others.

          She caught some ladies ogle for too long at Amare and she glared at them so hard, that when they felt her eyes piercing through them, they either shifted uncomfortably, or got up to leave. She smiled big, satisfied.

          Amare bought nasty, bitter drinks he claimed were ‘energy spiking’, and Angel and Zina poured it into an empty barrel when he wasn’t looking. Zina didn’t have any place she wanted to go, except the Old City Theater. Amare gave her a ‘what are you doing’ look and tried to steer Angel away from the idea, but he was already invested and glad to “be there again after such a long time!”

          Zina and Amare tried not to be obvious, even though they could all see the Obsidian from the height they were seated. The Theater was airy and quiet. Nobody ever came there anyway, so they wouldn’t be bothered. They chewed on the warm beancakes and fresh cow milk Angel and Zina bought.

          “Can you imagine how dark and creepy that cave would be?” Angel said and Zina and Amare exchanged ‘uh-oh’ glances. “Such a beautiful, comforting place, overlooking that dreadful cave. It’s sad.”

          “Indeed,” Zina supported and threw a beancake into her mouth, even though she hadn’t finished chewing what was already there.

          “Have I told you guys of the time I climbed a tree and met a monkey named Morty?”

          “Yes!” Angel and Zina chorused.

          “Don’t say it again. It’s stuck in my brain,” Angel whined and Zina laughed mockingly. Amare called the both of them a bore for not wanting in on his story. They ate silently.

          “This is nice. Sitting here with you two, not trying to kill each other.”

          “I’m always trying to kill Amare, by the way,” Zina said.

          “And yet, they call me the predator!” They all laughed at this.

          “What’s going to happen when we leave the Palace, and get assigned to different provinces. Do you think we’d still be friends?” Zina hugged her knees, something Amare had noticed she occasionally did.

          “Of course,” Amare shrugged and Zina shook her head.

          “You and Angel have each other, you always will. That’s different. But me. . . I’m just the bald girl you met at the Palace and could easily forget when you get out. I’m not saying I want you to remember me or anything, but . . .you guys are cool. Maybe I haven’t ever said that before.” It was the Commemoration, it had to be. It was making her emotional, scared that eventually, she would lose people that she had only just become attached to.

          And Amare knew that. He understood it. “Vulture, you have no idea how much you mean to us. How much you mean to me. Don’t ever think you’re going to lose what we have right now.”

          Angel blushed for them. This was more of a confession than an assurance, but neither of them could see it. But then again, maybe they could, but were in denial.

          “Oh please, Amare is more likely to run away from you than I am. You’re my Warrior Z, always going to be.”

          “She’s my vulture. I would be a fool to run away from her.” Their eyes lingered on each other for a hot minute, and they averted their gaze abruptly. Amare cleared his throat and Zina fiddled with the loose thread on her blouse.

          “Who wants me to sing?” Angel came to rescue them from their moment of awkward cuteness.

          “Me!” Zina raised her hand eagerly the same time Amare said, “Please don’t!”

          Angel and Zina jokingly bullied him into keeping shut, while Angel sang an old song about honesty, friendship and love. As he sang at the top of his lungs, his beautiful voice warming the hearts of his friends, he didn’t know that they were sitting right in front of the very thing that was a lie in their friendship.