Chapter 1 #2
And I know I can be better, have to be, or I’m as worthless as I was fourteen years ago.
“I saw my mom yesterday,” I say. Suyai wants some rationale for my actions, though she’ll never say it out loud.
It won’t ease the tension between us, but it’s something to soothe the wound.
She needs to know I’m not doing this to be careless.
I needed to climb today because I saw her, the Apukispay, the head of the entire army, personal guard to the Inka, my mother.
Her unit is starting a new training schedule to prepare for the calamity.
I had stared at her face, still holding on to the childish side of me that swore she would be able to feel the heat of my glare and look my way.
She didn’t.
It was the reminder I needed about what’s at stake. I woke up today with her steel eyes fresh in my mind.
“You should leave her to do what she does best. As much as I hate to say it, other than the princess, she’s the best we’ve got. The princess and the Sun Staff, they are the heroes of this story. When will you accept that?” Suyai’s voice rises with each word.
“When you stop being a sore loser every time we spar.” I switch to teasing.
I duck out of her reach and take off in a sprint, already anticipating the punch she throws.
I stop once I get a few feet ahead, not wanting to escape her reach completely.
She glares, and I brace myself, smiling wide, all teeth and squinted eyes zoning in on her stance.
I block her first hit aimed at my head with my elbow, but she doesn’t even take a second before sending another hit to my side, which I block with my knee.
She’s laughing now, and the sound soothes my aching muscles.
Rolling on the ground with her, blocking most hits and landing a few good ones myself, I can almost pretend it’s a week ago.
Before I upped my training. Before the Guardians led the diviners to read disaster in the cosmos.
The exhaustion that weighed me down steadily slips off my shoulders as the coca spreads through my system.
It’s Suyai and me, fighting and laughing as we have for years.
I throw a right hook that Suyai should have no problem blocking, but instead of hitting the fleshy part of her arm like I expected from her block, my fist makes solid contact with her cheek. Her head snaps to the side, and I jump off her, falling backward.
“Oh damn, Su-suyai,” I stammer out, eyes wide in residual shock. It’s been years since one of us got hit in the face by the other. We know each other’s fighting style too well for that. “You should have blocked that.”
Her dark cheek blooms a deep red, threatening to bruise from the force of my hit.
We’ve never held punches. Yet, she gives no indication that she feels any pain.
Her brows furrow and her lips part in a silent question.
I’m staring so intently at her face that I almost miss a few strands of her brown hair turning a stark white, a sign of some of her lifespan draining away.
Mimicry, the poor imitation of the pure power of our Guardians.
Our three Guardians have unlimited control over their domains, the heavens, the earth, and the underworld.
Mimics insult our Guardians every time they wield that same control, and they get closer to death as punishment.
The mimics must use up their samay, the limited life energy inside all of us, and lose some of their lifespan in the process.
Everyone has samay, but not everyone can use it.
I can’t, never could, and probably never will.
But Suyai, brilliant Suyai, can. Through mimicking the Guardian Ave’s power over the heavens, she can intercept other mimicry in the air.
If anyone in the vicinity is using their samay, she can figure out exactly their intention and the final effect.
The three strands of white hair now littering her head serve as a temporary mark of her insolence. The strands will return to normal eventually, but she will never recover the small amount of lifespan lost.
“What’s going on?” I whisper, reluctant to disturb her but unable to stay quiet. I try to sense anything in the air, but it’s hopeless.
“They’re readying a projection for later today,” Suyai whispers, half-distracted by what she’s sensing.
I keep quiet despite my questions. Suyai’s plump lips press into each other, morphing into a pink-brown line. Her eyes move back and forth, seeing some unknown thing in the air.
The last time the Inka projected a message, a moving image appearing in the sky, was three days ago.
It targeted the entire palace grounds and starred my mother, the Apukispay.
All members of the Inka’s Army are to appear at the west end training grounds immediately, my mother ordered as the highest-ranked representative of the Inka.
Since then, I begged Suyai to use her Ave Mimicry to latch onto any strong projections taking place on palace grounds.
It’s her unique manifestation of the Ave’s true power, one even the army hasn’t documented.
Suyai avoided using it at all costs, and I tried to hold my tongue when I realized it could be used to our advantage.
I could never help myself, though. And Suyai isn’t in the habit of denying me anything.
Suyai’s chest rises and falls violently as she lurches up and gags. She heaves and expels bile into the grass and wipes away tears and leftover spit from her face with the back of her hand. “Guardians be damned, I hate that,” she says and then pauses for a few seconds. “Ow, Rei!”
She holds her cheek and glares at me.
“Don’t blame me! It was an easy block,” I say.
“Yeah, real easy when I’m choking on cursed mimicry. One of the many messed-up things you’ve begged me to interfere with, in case you forgot,” Suyai says and spits out more saliva onto the ground.
“What did you see?” I immediately ask. So, it was mimicry she was sensing. With her specialty, she must have seen the entire projection.
“The diviners have commanded that the Guardians’ Ceremony take place in three days.”
“What?” I whisper. “That can’t be right.” A shameful sense of excitement fills me.
“That’s what your mother said. Word for word,” Suyai says.
We stand up. This time it’s my turn to hold her as she sways on her feet. Even the smallest amount of mimicry can exhaust an untrained person. I can only handle her weight because of the coca and my greater muscle mass. We walk in the direction of the barracks.
The walls fencing in the palace grounds no longer intimidate me, though they used to make my mouth drop in awe.
This is what my mom left me for, and what I left my family for in her footsteps.
The Guardian blessed walls, ten-inch tall gold bricks lining them.
The jagged and rough stone walls of the barracks.
The promise of becoming something greater than my mother could ever be.
“The Guardians’ Ceremony,” Suyai whispers in disbelief.
“The Guardians’ Ceremony will reveal the hero worthy of wielding the Sun Staff and fighting for the survival of the empire.” I recite, though the words feel like they come from outside of me. “The diviners must believe the calamity is happening sooner than we thought.”
Suyai sucks in a ragged breath. “And your mother won’t even bless us with her presence and gather us for more details. We’ll receive all further communication from–“
“Your Kama. Yes, Suyai, thank you,” a calm voice behind us says.
My mother.