by J. J. Pavlov
"Tell me." Gesturing at me with her palms, Malika puts the ball in my side of the court.
"Do you know what Qashrad Al-Majnun means?" I ask her, trying to put it in a rhetorical tone of voice, but I don't really know myself. It's just what Hanif and Fayza called me in a reverent tone, so I assumed it was some kind of desert deity that can change its form. I'm also sure I butchered the pronunciation because the way I said it sounds quite off compared to what I remember.
"Al-Majnun?" Repeating it the way it's meant to be pronounced, the sultanah asks with an eyebrow raised. "You are a shard of the Great Deceiver?"
That doesn't sound like a being I'd like to be associated with. Could that be what people of this nation call the original Crawling Chaos that gave birth to Maou-mama? If that's the case, I definitely don't want to be associated with that.
"Indeed." I keep a poker face and state in a matter of fact tone. The die is cast, and I've already started down this road. Now I can only keep on going and deal with whatever comes my way when it does. "Watch."
My hair turns blonde, and my complexion lightens; I'm back in my academy days appearance. The resemblance between Fulanah and me is still uncanny, but we could no longer be mistaken for each other.
"Interesting." Malika scrutinizes me and mutters, sounding anything but interested. I think making Hestia's wings sprout out of nowhere set the bar too high for this revelation to make much of an impact. "Al-Majnun or any of his shards have not been seen in centuries. Why now?"
I feared that this entity would be as real as the gods of the Kingdom of Lares, and that seems to be the case. However, the fact that he wasn't seen for so long gives me a lot of wiggle room for my story. Provided she's telling the truth and not just testing my knowledge.
"I don't know." I reply with the truth, albeit in another sense than what I'm trying to convey. "I wasn't given any specific task. Only to travel the world as I see fit."
Judging by the sultanah's reaction in lifting an eyebrow but nothing else, she thinks it odd but doesn't find a hole in my story. At least I doubt she's the type that could keep a straight face if she thought she noticed something.
"Then, why are you here?" Malika asks and gestures at the premises we're conversing in.
"Because your soldiers grabbed me off the street." Once again, I speak the truth. If not for the fact that somebody recognized me in a case of mistaken identity due to an actual other me being in the palace, I would have never come here. Turning my head to glance at Fulanah, I do feel grateful for an opportunity like this though.
"As a shard of Al-Majnun, you should have been able to escape easily." This is clearly a test now, as the sultanah crosses her arms and awaits a satisfactory answer. I can't underestimate her for looking so young; she's probably an adult who only looks like a child as well.
Or my other half has some explaining to do.
"I could. But my companion couldn't, so I decided to come along." I gesture at Hestia, who has been listening to our exchange with a neutral expression. She doesn't want to risk exposing me by letting her surprise at my revelations show on her face.
"I see. What is she? I have never heard of a Fata with black wings." She looks at the fallen angel while asking this, instead of directing the question at me. Her eyes seem to be undressing her, but it doesn't feel lecherous at all.
"She is the first." As far as I know.
"Surely, you had your hands in that." Showing off her snaggletooth in a wry smile, Malika displays her keen insight. I'm almost certain now that she's older than she looks.
"I won't deny that." I shrug to signal that she won't get more about this topic out of me.
"Then tell me, what is Fulanah?" Malika turns her gaze to my other half, who has been listening to my story with deep interest but is surprised at being addressed so suddenly.
"She's a part of me, as I'm a part of her." I purposefully make it sound poetic to appear more mystical. "We were separated after our birth."
"That is very interesting." Looking me up and down once more as if to see through any possible disguise I may be wearing, she relaxes her body a little. "But tell me, what are you really doing here, demon?"
I have the craziest sense of déjà vu right now.
Did I go wrong somewhere? Was it something I said, or do people in power have some cheat ability to see through my disguises? Thorvald did it after talking to me for a few minutes, and now Malika did the same, even though people I've been living with for months weren't able to tell despite me letting down my guard around them from time to time.
"Too bad." I shrug, and before anybody can react, I lift my arm and spread it out into countless tentacles, which grab the sultanah and pull her toward me.
Uzma reacts instantly and puts her hand on the scimitar dangling from her sash, but I just as quickly turn my still human hand into a spike and wordlessly bring it up to Malika's throat. The bodyguard freezes at the sight and slowly lets go of the sword she was just about to draw.
"You show your true face, demon." The sultanah growls.
"My dear, you wouldn't like it if I really showed my true face." Whispering into her ear, I remark sarcastically. "Tell your servants and your guard to leave the room."
"So you can violate and kill me? I would rather die during an attempt at being rescued by them." Speaking in a prideful tone, my hostage doesn't seem to understand what it means to be a hostage.
"First of all, I don't want to violate you, even if I have to admit that you're pretty cute." I clear up her misconception about my intentions, then continue. "And you would rather wait to get rescued than try to escape yourself? What about all the people who are going to die when they attempt to free you?"
"That is what it means to be a ruler." Malika replies in a matter of fact tone.
"A sheltered girl, huh?" I squeeze her body with my tentacles and turn her around to face me. Glaring into her eyes, I speak in a low and menacing tone. "You think everything revolves around you?"
"That is... what it means to be a ruler." She presses out between her teeth and repeats herself. Her expression surprises me; I expected that she would be scared or arrogant, but her gaze tells me that she understands the burden of those who live upon the sacrifices of others.
"I see. I'm sorry to have misjudged you." Apologizing, I loosen the restraints on her body a little. "I don't want this to end in bloodshed. We only need information, then we'll leave this nation and never come back."
"Why should I trust what a demon says?" As if disregarding her position as my hostage, Malika doesn't waver and stands her ground.
"I don't care if you trust me or not. But it's your decision whether to give me what I want now or to find out to what lengths I'm willing to go to get it anyway." I bring my face close to hers and say as if I'm debating whether to watch a movie or go for a walk in the park. "Next time, ask what it is that I want first instead of grandstanding."
"Do what she says. When she gets mad, people die." Hestia leans on my shoulder and breathes in an aroused tone as if talking about my skills in bed. She clearly loves my power plays, and I can't fault her for that; I love them myself, even if I'm bluffing right now.
Malika's expression tells me that she'll remain defiant unless I show her something concrete though. At the same time, I know that one or two people close to her getting killed would only increase her steadfastness. And I don't really want to murder people who haven't done anything evil that I know of. Slaughtering a bar full of slave owners is one thing, but taking lives just for the sake of making a point to somebody - I'm not that ruthless just yet.
But she doesn't know that.
"Sultanah, I know you care about your people." I separate from her and glance at Uzma, whose body is tense like a spring, waiting for any kind of opening I may show. "So I'll give you one more thing in return for telling me what I want to know, on top of leaving and never coming back. I won't turn this city into a sea of flames. Ignis."
Above my outstretched palm, a small ball o
f fire appears. Both Malika and her bodyguard flinch at the sight of the flame. Magic is reserved to men in this nation, so neither of the two should know any. The former is the sultanah, so I assume she has at least seen some, but me casting it should drive home how real my threat is. Even if it isn't.
"Wow, you're pretty evil, sister." Fulanah comments with a whistle.
"I have a reason for doing this. I'll tell you later." I don't feel that what I'm doing is evil in the least. Kamii is my top priority, and anything and anybody along the way will either aid me, get out of the way, or be disposed of as the obstacle it tried to be.
"You're a monster." Malika spits what she thinks is an insult in my face. My lips curl up into a wide smile.
"You have no idea."
Chapter 58 - The Shaman Caste
"Damn." I furiously rip the ornamental harem outfit off of my body while walking out of the palace with Hestia and Fulanah in tow.
"Maybe it was a lie, though." Hestia tries to appease my anger while stretching her wings. We're no longer in need of hiding our identities, so I'm not keeping her on a leash anymore.
"Well, we are checking it out with that hope in mind, so yeah." Pulling the red cloak out of my chest, I drape myself in it once again, feeling much readier to do anything to return to the Royal Academy than I did while in fancy clothing.
"What a waste." Fulanah comments as she looks back at the shreds of clothes and golden ornaments I so carelessly discarded. They disappear under the feet of the female guards that follow us. More than two dozen armed women surround us on all sides while we continue to walk unimpeded.
"I told you what you wanted to know, so let me go!" Malika struggles against her collar as I pull her along on a chain made from my body.
"Why should I trust what a human says?" As a throwback to her distrustful statement from earlier, I ask her in a sarcastic tone. Then I continue more seriously. "And I told you that I don't want a bloodbath. I'm taking you along to assure you that nobody has to die today."
Uzma and the royal guard maintain their encirclement at a respectful distance. The collar around Malika's neck is part of my body, and I've shown them that I can make blades come out from the inside, which would behead their sultanah instantly. Of course, it would be such a waste to take off her beautiful head.
"So, will we walk or will you tell them to prepare a palanquin for us?" Outside the main gate of the palace, I stop and ask Malika. She crosses her arms in prideful silence, and I shrug. "Walk it is."
And just as I promised, we begin to walk through the city, still accompanied by the guards. However, I do notice that not a single man is among them, even though we passed several gates and checkpoints. Most men were watching with blank expressions, surprised by our audacity. But there are some whose eyes and grins tell me that they have been waiting for something like this to happen. Many of them quickly walk away as if to report this to whoever has them in their pockets.
I guess corruption runs deep in this nation.
Eventually, I see archers on the rooftops aiming at us. They're the same kind that caused me trouble last night, but if they make a move, I won't hesitate to get my revenge for the inconvenience. I'm not going to let my frustration out on Malika.
Unperturbed by all the attention we're drawing, I continue to pull the sultanah along like a pet for all to see. While the royal guard maintains a perimeter around us, commoners watch from the sidelines. Even among those, I notice that men are smiling to themselves as if enjoying the show. Something feels wrong here.
At one point, male soldiers appear as well, with a man in an ornamental-looking suit of red armor riding a horse leading them. He looks wholly unenthusiastic about getting his sultanah back, and may even be here to stir things up.
Our first stop is the inn we stayed in last night, to pick up Jalil. After we finish our business, I intend to leave this city right away, so having him with us from the get-go is the most efficient option.
"Jalil, come out here." I shout up to the first-floor window of the room he was staying in last night. There's no guarantee that he's in right now, but I told him to wait for my return here. If he ran away, this would be pretty awkward.
But a shadow appears at the illuminated window of his room, and the skinny man with the pencil mustache peeks out. When he spots me, his eyes widen in a mixture of surprise and fear, as his lips quiver to find the right reaction at my unexpected return. He eventually settles on a smile and waves to me.
Then he notices the royal guard surrounding us on all sides, as well as the archers on the rooftops. His smile freezes, and his jaw drops in confusion, but I'm not here to watch his amusing expressions.
"Come. We need to go somewhere and then we'll leave the city." Waving at him as if this were a completely normal and relaxed situation, I order him to join us. He nods in silence and disappears from the window.
We wait for a minute or two in awkward silence, the surrounding guards whispering among themselves but never coming forward to try anything. Eventually, the door to the inn opens, and Jalil appears from it. In that very instant, two of the male soldiers grab him and put their swords against his neck.
"Let her go, and he lives." The commander on the horse calls out to me in a thick accent and points his scimitar at our captured guide.
"Medha tafalu?!" A member of the all-female royal guard, possibly their commander, points at the rider and shouts. She's afraid that taking my man hostage only serves to escalate this situation.
And she would be right if he held any worth for me.
"He's just an interpreter. I don't care about him." I reply, and Jalil's eyes widen. "If you kill him, I'll just take your sultanah along on our journey instead."
I wouldn't mind pulling Malika around as an interpreter and pet. A shudder of excitement runs down my spine at the thought of keeping a prideful girl coming from royalty on a leash, commanding her to do all kinds of things.
I'm aware of the double standard I'm setting in regards to slavery. But as the leader of a nation built by slaves, she isn't completely innocent either; she deserves to be shown what it means to be at the mercy of a person who holds her life in their hands.
The commander's face shows that he didn't expect such an answer. He's doubtlessly thinking hard to determine whether I'm bluffing or telling the truth. We made such a detour to come to this inn just to pick Jalil up, and now I say that I don't care about him. At the same time, he can almost believe that I'm so audacious that I would kidnap Malika and bring her along for our journey just to make her interpret for us. After all, I've been this audacious so far.
But that seems to not have been within the calculations of whoever ordered him to do this, as he turns to look at his soldiers, then back at us before ordering Jalil's release. Bellowing a command to his men, he pulls them away and leaves us in the care of the female guards once again. Probably going back to get new orders from his master.
"Something is going on behind the scenes here." I whisper to Malika and point at the retreating soldiers.
"I agree." Unexpectedly, she answers with a thoughtful frown in the direction of the commander in red.
"W-what happening?" Jalil reaches us and asks me while looking around, terrified.
"Greet your sultanah." I point at the girl on my leash and smile. The latter crosses her arms and manages to look down on the man despite not only being collared and chained but also standing at half a head shorter than him. She has the presence of a ruler, alright.
"S-sultanah?" Our guide's eyes go round like saucers. He realizes that judging by the situation, she's the real deal. "W-what you do, master?"
"Just keeping her hostage as a precaution." Shrugging, I point in the general direction of our next destination. "I forgot how to get there, so you show us the way."
"Where?" Jalil asks, blinking his eyes in confusion.
"To the Qaat Al-Arruwa." I smile.
"Women are not allowed inside. It is the law." Malika complains when we near the gates
of the Hall of Souls.
"You're the leader of this nation." I pull her toward the few steps leading up to the closed doors and reply. The few male soldiers that have joined the perimeter around us don't move out of our way, as if declaring that this law is worth protecting more than even their sultanah.
"Nobody is above the law. That gives birth to corruption." She replies in a steadfast tone.
"I like how you think, but it's far too late to worry about giving birth to corruption. Its roots already run pretty deep in your country, I believe." Ignoring her complaints, I pull her toward the men holding the stairs.
"Out of the way." Hestia walks forward and commands in a voice that seems to shake the air. Under her menacing presence, the men are on the verge of faltering. But her aim was precisely that moment of unsteadiness, as she jams her wings between them and sweeps them aside effortlessly. I've known for a while now that Fatas are physically much stronger than they look, but that's on a whole different level. Her confident air causes me to fall in love with her all over again.
We walk up the steps and reach the closed steel doors while Hestia watches our backs, preventing the men from rushing at us. I try to push, and the door opens inside to reveal the brightly illuminated Hall of Spirits, filled with men of all ages staring at us with expressions that suggest they're ready for a battle.
From here on out, I need to be careful. Soldiers wielding physical weapons are trivial to deal with for a Crawling Chaos, but those who use magic are dangerous. I've learned first-hand how hard to deal with they can be, especially when in coming at me in numbers. Luckily, I have a hostage, so I hope to get through here without a battle.
The immensely tall main hall is covered in colorful mosaics depicting all sorts of divine beings and scenes from the sultanate's religion. Hestia looks around in fascination, forgetting the tension of our situation. She's quite taken by the grandeur of this place, in complete contrast to its rather simple exterior, and I have to admit that I regret coming here in such a manner; I would have loved to do some sightseeing.