Chapter 34
Ican only bear to stay away for a week.
A week of running, fueling rumors, and accepting whatever resources lined the streets for refugees. A week of seeing people mourn me, the hero who walked among them.
Lima is still a war zone. Lack of authority brought out the worst in some and the best in others.
It’s less obvious now, as I walk from the refugee shelter to the palace grounds.
Some houses were ransacked, easy targets when people abandoned their homes to take refuge in the outer provinces.
But many of those people are back now and working to repair their homes.
I don’t feel unsafe, but I rarely have. Now, less than ever, since I have a plain silver staff across my back for protection.
The guards brought most of the crime under control within the first 24 hours of martial law under Inka Yanami, but even a week later, there are bursts of unchecked violence in city centers and markets.
Every day, new sets of guards return with Lima natives, sparking outrage from people scared about the lack of resources.
The Aya Runa takeover affected more than politics.
A lot of agriculture and trade from Lima ground to a halt, and the other provinces weren’t keen to send supplies without stable leadership.
Inka Yanami is changing that.
Inka Yanami…
I shake my head free of her image.
Is Muna back yet? I scan the morning crowd.
Families are leaving their temporary homes to get food rations, volunteers are helping the disabled and elderly, and guards are bent over kipus and working more as administrators than warriors.
There are whispers of anxiety as people prepare for refugees from Ollantaytambo to return soon.
The faster refugees should be arriving any day now, which means less space for everyone as buildings are repaired.
I knew some groups didn’t approve of Inka Yanaru, but I never realized the chaos that would break out when she lost power.
Fringe groups wanted to divide Lima into various territories, trying to take over land and the people living there.
It wasn’t the majority of the population, but it was enough to ruin lives.
Inka Yanami has already rounded the leaders up. Everyone is waiting for the announcement of their punishment. The population won’t accept anything less than death. Yet, when I think about Yanami, the Yanami I knew, making that decision, my chest tightens.
I can’t shake her from my mind forever. I see Yanami’s face via projection every day.
Her hair is still short and a blinding white.
Any sign of her trying to cover up the truth of her lost power would be a disaster for her new regime, but it’s still odd to see the most powerful person in the empire look so weak and defiled.
I know other people think so too.
Yanami isn’t revealing all the secrets she told me, but she’s saying enough to redefine the empire’s history. The lies she tells are carefully calculated, and the truth of our fates is woven seamlessly throughout.
She’s set to be the most impactful Inka in our empire’s history, even if she decides to step down tomorrow.
She’s not doing it because she wants to. Or that’s what I assume. I don’t really know the woman in the projections. I only know the girl who used to lie in my arms. She says the bare minimum, and her Ice Inka persona solidifies with every story she tells. Bluntly. To the point.
No smiling, easy-going husband like her mother had to soften her image. She even keeps her recovering siblings and father away from the public rather than using them to boost her reputation. No, Inka Yanami is confident in her power, infinite samay or not.
Except, I know she must feel powerless right now, forced to expose the twisted secrets of her childhood to keep the empire together.
Inka Yanaru, my mother, was born on Amantani Island. The energy of the sacred lake and the Guardians’ blessings allowed the Samay Stone to be placed above my heart. We didn’t know then that there was a way to control it, but when Inka Yanaru discovered that weakness, she made sure to protect me.
I knew the Aya Runa had the ability to control the stone through their dark mimicry. That is why I had to stay away during the first attack and Intiraymi. But when they started their genocide in Lima, I refused to stand back.
They took control of my body and soul. My actions were not my own. The Guardians’ Hero understood the center of control was the stone and received permission from our Guardians to destroy it.
It is with the deepest sadness that I report the hero was fatally injured and perished soon after.
What a boring way to tell the story. What a lie.
When I heard her voice, loud but not overbearing, causing people to flood into the streets to see the projection, my heart soared, then crashed as I processed the words.
She needed the blood off her hands. She needed someone for the empire to rally around.
The Guardians’ Hero died to save her. How could anyone stand against her now?
Except I’m alive and breathing. It wasn’t me who died. It wasn’t me who gave their life for peace.
It isn’t me who deserves to be venerated and mourned.
Bile rises up my throat. My heart begins to race. There are too many people around me, just like on the dais, just like when Su–
I think about politics and walk faster through the crowds.
Some people still whisper that the calamity isn’t over at all, that Inka Yanami is the calamity itself.
That she will bring terror and plagues to the empire.
A weaker story, a truer story, would have led to more of these rumors. As of now, they’re the minority.
I scoff to myself, winding through the streets between piles of wood and children drinking their morning quinoa.
The Sun Staff is asleep, its shining gold turned into a burnished silver, its sun statue at the top turned to dust swept up by the wind.
It looks like any other staff that common people use for protection or as a tool.
Nothing special about it, just like there’s nothing special about me, not anymore.
I wanted to throw the staff into the sea as soon as I was away from prying eyes. In the immediate disorder following the fight, it would have been easy.
The guards that were so ready to attack Yanami immediately went to her side to help once they saw the state I left her in.
Belief in the divine right to rule might have weakened, but it still existed.
My final action was the shock the system needed to restart.
It was like people came out of a fear-fueled daze and saw Yanami for what she was, not a monster, not a scared girl.
She was their Inka.
The guards handled things effectively without the Aya Runa pulling their strings.
Yanami received immediate medical attention.
The people were guided home safely, told to stay inside and wait for news.
Chaskis spread the daily announcements, and once Yanami was healed, she took the mantle of newscaster herself.
I didn’t know any of that when I tried to toss the Sun Staff.
It was after I took off the crown, felt the welts it left on my skin, and threw it into the ocean, that my hands faltered around the staff.
It was all over. The staff powered down into a common, burnished silver prop.
Still, I couldn’t. My reflection stared at me, distorted through the shining silver slivers of the staff.
The weapon didn’t belong in our world the same way the stone didn’t.
The same way I felt I didn’t.
The crown was a symbol of the Hero, but this staff, rusted and normal, is a symbol of me. I keep it close to me at all times now. It is just a regular staff, I tell myself. It is just a protective measure.
I make it to the coast and look at the waves, only a few meters from the palace grounds. I sit alone at the edge of the plateau.
One week and martial law is lifting little by little. Inka Yanami encourages people to spend some time outside in recreational areas. We’re let out in quadrants, so as to not overwhelm the guards, but it’s a nice sense of normalcy to most people. A show of goodwill from the new Inka.
I wish I didn’t have to ruin the guards’ sense of control, but I can’t wait for regular meetings with the Inka to open up.
I have to get Mare now.
Looking down at the sea makes me sick with a newly familiar sense of vertigo.
I turn to stare at the palace walls instead.
The moment she recovered, Inka Yanami got to work organizing the soldiers and controlling the narrative around the Calamity.
Inside those walls are soldiers, healers, nobles, and children, all running to complete her wishes.
They say we won. I don’t believe it even when it comes out of her mouth.
But I’m not in the business of caring about winning anymore.
I walk to the palace entrance and clear my throat.
The soldier at the door stands to attention.
It’s when I get to my last name, the former Apukispay’s last name, that he begins shouting to the others behind him.
A group, a mix of soldiers, healers, and noble attendants, let me in.
They look me over, chattering in my ear, but I’m numb to it all.
This might have felt like losing before, a mass of people tending to me, recognition, validation, all just because I am my mother’s daughter. Yet, I don’t care about winning at all. I don’t know what winning is when I’ve lost it all.
I’m led deep into the palace, guards walking behind us at a polite distance. I want to say I don’t care about niceties. Treat me like a guest of honor or don’t. I’m here for one thing.
But when they bring me to Yanami, I realize how badly I’ve been deluding myself. I’m here for Mare, yes, but not only for him.
Not when Yanami stands in front of me, eyes quick to recompose themselves after showing an ounce of shock, flicking from my face to the staff behind me.