[Author's Note: This chapter includes historical and culturally contextual lore that may be interpreted in different ways. These elements are not depicted explicitly and are part of broader worldbuilding. Look to the following chapters for more accurate revelations. Some light line changes were made for this.]
Magi-mi Chamba poured a cup of hot cacao and put it near her. Incense swirled through the air as they reclined in their couches.
Salīa had been feeling quite pitiful, exposing herself so deeply. She thought she'd been holding it together quite well—until she screamed at Hawking.
"Tell me of Salazā," said magi-mi Chamba, breaking her thoughts. "What do you like of it?"
"I like it when it's not in ashes."
"It's not all in ashes."
She snarled, yet he didn't offer a reaction.
"I like that it is my home."
"Do all like their home?"
"Their home, yes. Their house, it's different. A house is any place you live. A home is any place you are who you truly are."
"I see. A house is also that of one's lineage, yes?" She nodded, gulping her drink. "Could I ask of yours?"
"Don't you know?"
"I may know less than I think I do."
"Well, I certainly know less than I think do. Magi Inio may have been a great teacher, but I was a miserly student. But I can try," she paused. "Salazā, she was the founder of the lands. It was a wash of ocean for most of its life, until the Senai Seas pulled back and the lands rose, or so it's believed. And in finding it, her name became the house name."
He had many more questions, and whenever she'd answer with an, "Oh, you must know," he'd just smile and wait as if he didn't.
Salīa curled her legs to her chest. It had been a while since she'd spoken of these stories. Truthfully, it had been a while since she cared about them.
When she was young, her uncle, Prince Kian, gifted her a rare book on Salazāhn tales. And she read each story for years until the pages wore out. Yet after some time, she'd tune out even the mention of these old stories.
When did I stop caring about where I come from and why?
"Salazā was thought to be a pilgrim of the ancient, unmarked lands of Sari, which roughly covers where we are. Yet she was raised in Amari. She had several younger siblings, all of which carry the names of our villages. Though some tales say they weren't linked by blood."
"Do you believe these tales?"
"I'm not sure," Salīa admitted. "All I know is that she found these lands again by travelling the sea with her brothers and sisters. So, it was only fitting that they all made a home of it together as family."
She unrolled a smudged scroll map before him.
"The second eldest was the proud Silio. He took the closest land to the mainland that was encircled with forest, yet its heart opened a pathway to Salazā. This is where the zazi train and blacksmiths excel."
And where Magi Inio drew his last breath.
"Over a curved mountain and deeper in the forest is Sjino – she was the fierce second sister, and her land is great for mining, especially for gold and diamonds."
It's also home to the brothel district and the best sensual dancers, of who I learned from secretly.
"Opposite Sjino, over some lowly mountains and leaving the land, is the cunning and clever Shumpa. With his wife, he cultivated rich crops – you know, fruits, nectars, nuts, soybeans, potatoes, and all that."
It's also next to the inn where I was groped by a foreign soldier.
"On the other shoulder of the Salazā village is the brave Shaka, a mountainous village with bouldering forest. Also, a home of many honorary warriors and sacred tutors. Even Magi Inio resided there."
Magi-mi Chumba smiled. Magi Inio was quite a loved magi, and many magi-mi looked up to him. Me too. I loved giving him a hard time, sure, but he was more patient with me than most.
"Over a long stretch is the nurturing Sana and caring Sando, blended with some gapped mountains and hills. They shared most trades – textiles, jewels, hair, and body elixirs, and all that. They even shared flesh, having wedded before it was a crime."
My aunt lived there with her carpenter husband and studious son, yet who knew where they were in the midst of all of this?
"Then the wise Senai, also known as the Senai Seas. It's a peaceful merchant's land close to the islands, which he grew with his wife, Nwabisa, a freed slave from another island. They had three sons, but only one lived long enough during battles to have descendants."
"Did all the siblings wed and have kids?"
"Well…"
How do I make this simple?
"Shumpa wed Miria, and had two children. Sana and Sando had a daughter, Janei. Sando and Shumpa eventually died defending the land, as many attacked Salazā once it gained influence."
Salīa breathed in the steam. How is it that we haven't had to face these kinds of battles in centuries, and all of a sudden it's back to where we started?
"Shaka wed Pliana, no children. They adopted Janei when Sana killed herself due to heartbreak. Silio tried to marry Salazā, but she refused him. He died after many battles, but not before having a child with Sjino," she emptied her cup. "Salazā, despite wanting her freedom, pitied this orphaned child and took her in."
"Shiala?"
"Yes," Salīa smiled. "If Salazā left her, my bloodline would've ceased."
"Because Shaka later bonded with his adopted daughter?"
"They never secured their bond, but yes."
"This incited war?"
"Such bonds are illegal. So, other lands eventually decreed untried executions on Shaka, Janei, and others."
"Not Shiala?"
"They tried, since she was a child of such. Yet none could even touch her shadow with Salazā as her protector. They fled during the war. Salazā also birthed a son, Jeno, rumored to be from one of her fallen brothers."
How is he so calm in hearing such things?
"She returned many years later as the ruler, stronger and more strategic, ceasing all threats to the land. And lived a long life."
"What became of Shiala and Jeno?"
"They married and, alongside their surviving cousins, continued to rule the land."
She felt nauseous.
"You seem ashamed, Princess."
"It's just…it seems my ancestors aren't as admirable as I once thought."
"I think they are. Why don't you?"
"For centuries, many have called us sxvage as if it means wicked or barbarians. Now I almost understand why."
Were my ancestors really just lustful siblings living a life of battle and betrayal? How come I never thought about it as deeply before? And why do I seem more disgusted than him?
"I know you have the ceremonial dinner and Freedom Festival. But after," he said gently. "Could you show me the Salazā Spirits?"
She looked to him. It wasn't a strange request – many travelers came here just to see it. But why now?
She had many reasons to refuse, and meant to, but the only words that left her mouth were, "Yes, I promise."
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