The outside of the hall was fiercely guarded by zazi from edge to corner, all around. The hall itself appeared as an elaborate, elongated hut with its thatched roof.
The trees and bloom that surround it were coated in plant glitter that made it shine more, and drinks of marula and earth fruit were served by attendants all around.
It was a celebratory dinner held solely for those in noble, authoritative, royal, or esteemed guardian positions. And some special invitees or guests of honor also attended.
The dinner itself was just a way to connect with those in their respective roles before the Freedom Festival.
It was something Salīa knew had to be done to gain favor, yet it's not something she confidently believed she could do.
As expected, whether jovial or mourning, each knew to dress garbed and adorned, with their most exquisite regalia. Salazā was not a land to disgrace its ancestors by draping in rags when feeling torn.
If it must be rags, then it must be worn proudly and intentionally placed so that it becomes its own dress of luxury. Each cloth is for courage, each dress is for dreaming, each robe is for remembrance.
Of course, they were all canvases that were painted, powdered, and pressed their skin with colors and shimmer. Their anklets, bracelets, necklaces, earrings, face rings, and hair pieces were all precisely chosen to gleam or blend with the colors and intricate patterns they chose. Beads, shells, gems, gold, and more were all molded into fitting shapes.
The hall was just as decorated with paintings, carvings, and figures of all the key ancestral animals laid throughout the gardens of the hall.
And matching tapestries and markings made on the inside of the hall. Alongside several stands of lanterns and candles.
The dining tables were all neatly dressed with black and gold, from cloth to cutlery to carpets. The air was strong of ylang-ylang incense and sachets of cinnamon, cacao, and vanilla.
This was said to be the hall where Salazā herself announced the designation of the villages to her siblings and the first place she sat when returning to the land after her absence.
Some even believe it's where she last sat before her death, yet that was more of a rumor. Either way, it was a special hall indeed.
To the sides was a designated corner with gifts from each attendee, which would later be checked by zazi and attendants to be sure nothing in there was offensive or deadly.
Other corners and side, were filled with confectionery and savory bites to nibble on before the dinner itself.
All bowed and greeted with a large x on Salīa's arrival, and she bowed and instantly sat, having asked to skip lengthy introductions.
After all, the sun was fast-setting, and she was only doing this as a courtesy. It was the festival she was most eager for.
Dinner was served just as swiftly. It was known that most households in Salazā prided themselves on making hearty meals that could sometimes be large enough to fill a small village. Often cooked in large pots over large fires with a few pairs of hands.
Whatever remained usually went to those in need, and those already at the table were often of the habit to dish in small portions and build up, as not finishing one's plate was extremely frowned upon. As was fighting or arguing during a shared meal. While storytelling or joking was more praised.
On the surface, the meals seemed quite ordinary as they were of the standard large grains and vegetables, often with plentiful roasted potatoes.
Yet the people of Salazā were not of the practice of eating dead beings or anything which comes from it, and so they adapted to making tofu, jackfruit, and a series of other things which tasted best marinated.
What often brought it all together was the special sauces and spices. Everything from pies to samosas were also quite esteemed. This often did so well in that trading recipes have become sacred enough to afford people luxuries. The sales of their foods were extremely profitable, too, especially for the best cooks.
And no less than the best was served at this feast.
There were even the common street foods loved among Salazāhns and travelers alike. From chip rolls doused in a spicy sauce to hollowed-out fresh breads filled with curry.
And Salīa was ready to feast on it all after not eating all day until she knew all in her land were served meals.
A newly appointed head magi of the land announced prayer and then sat with the other magi. Magi-mi Chamba had also been in attendance but asked Salīa not to worry about tending to him throughout the festivities. Yet it still felt odd.
Everyone was at the tables they were suited for, yet Salīa wasn't sure she was truly at the right one. She had the throne chair at the largest table, and yet she felt like a peasant.
Especially since she wore hooded robes and a headwrap to not expose what she'd be appearing as for the festival.
She even felt strange that she couldn't dig into her full plates until a taster tested each one. Her eyes cast over the council leaders who were close beside her, yet none were quite speaking.
Many spoke in the common tongue, yet some couldn't help but lean into their tribal tongue. Yet Salīa never expected any would go out of their way to amuse her; it was just for them to observe her openly and think what they might.
Her true duty was to keep her spine straight and her shoulders back and not be afraid to look anyone in the eye.
Chief Raino warned her that most who wanted to speak to her would approach her during the serving of desserts, where assigned seats didn't play a role anymore.
"Is it to your liking?"
The voice belonged to the honorable Keanu on the left of her, with his infamous beloved smile, wearing a headdress with small horns as swirled as a kudu's.
"The food or the company?"
"Either or."
"I'm always weak to a good meal," she admitted. "And somewhat impartial to company."
"Like your mother," his smile deepened.
"She's always open to a good meal, but is fortunately not as much of a glutton at times."
"I wouldn't say indulging in that which fills you makes you gluttonous."
Salīa smiled mischievously. It was hopeless to make such innocent words that could easily be turned in her mind after all the lewd books she'd read, lecherous places she'd visited, and even more sinister people she'd met.
It seems her quiet joke was caught on by Bana, who soured her face and turned it.
"I appreciate your kind words," Salīa said to the confused Keanu. "My mother always spoke kindly of you. I'm sure it must feel strange without her."
He winced.
I guess he understandably cares for her quite deeply.
"Moments change as time passes. Resisting a current does not stop it from flowing. To accept the coming seasons, one must honor the passing seasons."
Bana yawned.
"You may fare better as a poet than a leader. Always saying something and yet nothing must get tiring sometimes, isn't it?"
"Bana," Buhle reached her hand out, taking Bana's arm.
To Salīa's surprise, Bana did push it away or glare at her. She softened her gaze and continued eating.
"He's saying his head accepts the way that things must be, but his heart misses her."
That deep voice was unmistakably Othu's, and it was likely that was the only time they'd hear him for the evening. Yet even so, such a blunt statement had even Keanu flustered.
"It is how it is," added Simo, quite flamboyant in the red paint that coated around his eyes like a secretarybird's. "I hope you do not find our longing for Queen Saoa as an offense to you as our Queen. If so, please tell us to kowtow and apologize appropriately."
"No need. I miss my family quite deeply, so we share similar sentiments. All I ask is that you stand by your people and show face at the festival."
"Of course," they all agreed.
Bana only offered a curt nod, but did not look at her. Salīa glanced over at the twins, who were immaculately draped in leopard-style robes that opened at the chest and who had studs and small hoops filling each earring.
Letu's bracelets and hair ties were gold with black, while Lefu's were black with gold. They surprisingly had not said one word, at least not the council at the head.
Theirs were shared in whispers with the people further down the table. All those second in command of the council leaders. Each time she tried to lend an ear, it fizzled out because of all the others speaking all over.
"Such dinners must bore you," said Eli, who had been to the right of her, and in quite sparkly white robes with gray shimmery cuffs.
"Why would you think that?"
"You may not remember, but as a child, your mother would bring you around to plenty of such occasions. Yet you always fell asleep or turned your head elsewhere. Which was expected of a child, naturally.
Though you were different. You'd always first point to someone and say, 'they do not feel real,' and that's when you'd doze off."
She couldn't quite remember.
"Did I mean that I thought some people were illusions?"
"Who's to say? Yet if I were to guess, you're no different now, even if you don't outwardly say so. It seems that even as a child, you were never too amenable to those who posture and speak in sophistries."
Eli lifted his marula and finished it in one go. It was surprising he could still stand after so many. I guess he really does have the stomach of an elephant.
"Such a gift in discernment is special, Queen Salīa," said Buhle. "Never forget your gifts."
She had everything from a drawn-out headdress to her hair in knots, to a puffed-out, patterned dress and matching purple on her lids and gloss on her lips. Her smile was quite gentle, yet encouraging.
Bana opened her mouth, yet Buhle looked to her, and so she closed it.
Finally, the desserts were served. The center was filled with chocolates accompanied by various fruits. Yet all around were trays of carrot cakes, banana breads, coconut cream pastries, and more.
Each dessert had pairings of crushed nuts, chopped fruits, and drizzles and dollops of nectars and sweet sauces.
Candies were also neatly placed in ramekins, along with other small cacao desserts adapted from Amari.
And for some time, Salīa forgot of everything around her as she dug in.
Yet eating such desserts in her land reminded her of how, at these occasions, Amandla and Awethu would always ask to have a bite of hers, even though they could have their own.
It was more about being able to share the bowls, rather than the desserts within it.
Amandla always had more of the carrot cake, and Awethu had the banana bread. Salīa was like her mother in how they preferred to mix their desserts together and enjoy it.
Now that others could move freely, Salīa finally cast her eyes to other tables. And quickly she saw the table she wanted. The one that held the zazi.
While all zazi were equal on the battlefield and in combat, it was true that ranks did have its place at these kinds of things. And they all wore full ceremonial guardian dress and were adorned.
Especially the head zazi family, Chief Raino, and all his zazi kin.
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