The sun danced down, and the people danced with it.
Colorful stringlike vines hung across branches with lanterns in carved pots with open patterns that glowed on the streets.
Everyone was dressed beautifully, from each thread to bread to powder to paint that touched them. It was almost as if the Freedom Festival had found its way to this little land of the sxvages.
Camille had dressed Salīa, swearing that Hawking was the one who told her what dress she'd like and her size. Salīa almost believed it too because it was indeed to her liking and fit.
Nagapie poked jewels at her, making sure she was dressed as Queen. It was the first time this little girl even looked at her like one. But that didn't last long when Salīa's stomach started grumbling.
"No manners," she shook her head, offering more of the cold, murky soup.
"Can't I have…"
"Insolent too. There'll be a feast soon…but for now, drink your medicine."
Having nothing else to savor, she reluctantly drank the questionable soup.
"How's the other thing going, Camille?"
"Don't you worry, child," Camille smiled warmly. "I'll find you when it's done. You have other things to do tonight."
I do? She's said this a few times already, and it feels a bit ominous.
That feeling of worry hadn't left her when she was seated right beside an elevated, empty stage. Everyone else was laughing and giggling about. While she could only watch anxiously.
Two voices chuckled nearby, teasing and joking with each other.
"You play with my heart too much, Mami Mamba. I know you just want me for my body."
"Oh, but you also have a special place in my heart, Sibusiso."
"You do know the heart is between the chest and not the thighs, don't you?"
Mami Mamba laughed.
"Sometimes I'm not sure which is where, but maybe you could help and show me."
Why do I feel like I'm listening to something I shouldn't be?
"You know I'm courting another."
"You have enough brothers already," Mami Mamba cooed.
"Are you getting jealous?"
"I'm just saying one shouldn't dote on their family like that."
"My father calls you sister, so are we not family too?"
"Uh…" Tawanda started speaking, one word over the other. "I know you two like to joke, but I'm feeling a bit, you know…Oh, it's you."
He lit up and bowed to Queen Salīa.
"I'm looking forward to your oration."
"My what?"
There it was, the missing piece to the looming feeling.
Sibu popped out, resting his elbow on Tawanda's shoulders, and with a beam, he said, "Yes, we can't wait."
Both were dressed quite extravagantly with finely threaded pants and bare chests with gold painted alongside their markings.
Sibu had several layers of dangling earrings, while Tawanda layered more with his bracelets.
"What do you mean?"
Mami Mamba appeared, wearing shimmering robes with patterns of mambas paired well with her banded top and long, patterned skirt, all in vibrant colors.
Even her fringe was paired back with a colorful head wrap, her curls spilling out freely with rainbow colored glitter that glimmered lightly when she turned.
"You'll find out," she nodded, then got up to the stage.
Others standing were hushed to their seats. Some covered the lanterns to dim the light.
Now all they had before them was the darkened skies, filled with stars, the rustling trees, vivid in green, and the crowd of those seated around, dimmed under the night but felt from their lively breaths to their invigorating fragrances.
A foot tapped the stage, and some lights were unleashed, starting the flow of drums.
It was all a thrilling blur as one by one, storyteller by storyteller, took the stage, sharing children's tales in their own way.
Sometimes they'd call out words, and the watchers would chant in response. Instruments were played mildly, yet livened each story.
A fire was even kindled beside the stage, lifting animations of flame-drawn images reminiscent of the characters spoken of. These played on until Mami Mamba sang out, "They say the king is coming."
"But he is not our king," they chanters sung back.
"What is he?"
"A demon."
"A demon?"
"A demon!"
"But demons are not kings, so how can they wear crowns?" she paused, watching the crowd, knowing they wouldn't know how to reply. "They say the queen is coming."
"But will she be our queen?"
"What is she?"
"A protector."
"A protector?"
"The Protector!"
In a jolt, they all lifted, humming the same tune Salīa shared at the Freedom Festival.
It was all so overwhelming that she wasn't sure what to do when hoisted up to the stage, and many eyes fell upon her.
Mami Mamba continued telling a story, but not of an old legend, but a current incident. She spoke right until the end, even mentioning how Salīa's aura rose above her. People could only stare in awe and gasp, and the musicians got even more excited, drumming heavily at peak moments.
But then she mentioned something Salīa didn't even realize about that night, that she had spoken to Phiri in a different tongue.
"I didn't know you could sabela, Queen," said Mami Mamba suddenly, drawing eyes from the crowd.
"Sabela?"
An angry clearing of the throat was heard, and Salīa could see a trace of Bazil from deep within the crowd. His glare was set on Mami Mamba, who felt it but shrugged it off, then explained.
"Old vagarī was lost when made new vagarī. The common tongue. In our land, we have several tribal tongues and some tongues that descend from mixing tribal tongues.
Like baba tongue, a coarsened version that refugees, outlanders, some commoners, and even seasoned wanderers speak. As you know its what gang members lean into as well."
Salīa nodded.
"But since baba tongue is common enough, gang members couldn't really keep others from learning their movements.
They needed a way to keep secrets, so they switched out some words and signs of baba tongue for that of their own making.
And from there, our gang members learned how to sabela."
Mami Mamba sighed.
"It has many names in other lands, but at the end of it all, it's really just demon tongue."
Camille's face drooped. As did that of a few others. Salīa easily discerned that many of those who spoke that tongue had caused some suffering to the people around.
Although they hadn't told her, she could feel their wounds almost as they were telling her what they were and how they formed.
The same feeling she had when around that crimson drug. The same feeling she had when those renegades were wiped out. The same feeling she felt for the first time when a child, watching the possessed outlanders die.
Mami Mamba's eyes had traced over her. When Salīa met her gaze, she realized why Mami Mamba called her out to her people. Many had only heard about Salīa or seen her for a moment, and often only had the rumors to feed off.
In the end, the only way to reach people is to let them know who you are and what you stand for, for the rest of your life.
Salīa stepped up onto the stage, and many cheered while some stared warily.
It had been a long time since she got on one, and before she had dancers beside her and music playing so that eyes and ears would not stay on her alone. There was even Lulu to introduce her and ease into the moment so there was never any quiet.
But now she was stripped of all that and was standing there alone, gazing at them in silence.
Upon looking at their faces, she felt the sensations and heaviness that most carried, and it all became clear.
"I see now. I thought our people were hurt when our land was attacked. But you've been hurting a lot longer than that.
Even if those demons didn't show face for all these years, their presence still lingered in us.
We praise virtues, but sins still court us. When times are tough, our trials feel timeless, feeling like they'll follow us until our last breath. And so instead of facing what hurts us, we hurt others," Salīa paused.
"We use words, symbols, and gestures to link with each other, but we also use them to sever those links."
What is this feeling? Is it sadness? Is it rage? I'm feeling so full of this feeling that's been building inside my heart, that I can't keep it in anymore.
"Words are spells, and yet we use our magic so carelessly!
We're souls, the most powerful source of energy, sprung from the well of our spirits. To see us through our journey, we're joined by our minds, a force of its own will.
As a gift, we're granted bodies, so that we may live a life of our own making. But what is this?!"
Salīa looked at them.
"We willingly give into temptation, letting our vessels be possessed, our minds corrupted, and our souls sold. For what?!
What is so deserving of you that you'll allow yourself to be caged? I thought you wanted to be free."
The plug was pulled out, letting the feeling within her pour out. Yet it had been bottled for so long that it could not stop spilling.
"Yes, I know demon tongue. I know what many say about me. But I'm not that. I'm the Protector.
The past, present, and future converge through me. As does light and darkness. And all that ever was and ever will be."
She stepped to the edge of the stage.
"It's a troublesome time, and I sense it's only the beginning.
I know blood will be shed, but that does not mean I'll easily shed it. You see, I do know demon tongue, but only because I'm here to connect with all, near and far, same, or different.
I will unite all that's been divided. And for that, I must know all my people."
She lingered over them, watching each face look up to her.
There was no doubt she was the Protector, as this time, she left no space for it. She spoke with her essence lit, letting herself be illuminated as her eyes glowed.
"I'm here for the people, for the free, for the sxvages," She let an x form through her arms. "And together we will rise!"
Everyone rose and chanted, x's thrown up.
"Amandla!" Mami Mamba cried.
"Awethu!" they replied.
In no time at all, the deep weight of their words had been lifted into the air as if clouds and floated throughout songs that they hollered through their drums and cheered about.
Sibu took the stage and nudged his shoulder to hers, whispering, "I'm very proud of you, Queen Salīa. To see you becoming who you're meant to be is truly something special. Were you scared?"
"Very much so," she admitted.
"I get scared with this, too. It's hard to know how to be there for the people when we're all the same but so different. Isn't it?"
Salīa nodded, surprised that Sibu ever feared something like this. He naturally excited the people, and his smiles easily drew crowds of them to him.
"How do I stop getting so scared with this?"
"Who knows," Sibu shrugged, beaming at her. "Hmm, but this might help."
He bit his lip, pondering, then nodded to himself.
"Be who you want to be for the people. Not who you think you should be."
He winked and shot her an x.
"My brothers and sisters!"
Sibu stood at the edge of the stage with open arms and a toothy smile.
"Today we have not only been blessed by the Protector, the bastion of our realm, on this auspicious day, but we are gathered together to celebrate the birthday of my father and our fiercest warrior, Chief Rainorufaro!"
The people cheered and chanted, drumming against the floor.
"But wait. It's also on this day that one of his nine children got the luck of the draw to share a birthday with him. Our very own Commander Guardian Bazilani!"
Whistles erupted, and people clapped merrily as Bazil made it to the stage. It was here that people started throwing décor on him, convivial music blared through, and gifts were placed at his feet.
Salīa stepped down, feeling the head of Bazil's stare.
She nodded for him to enjoy being honored and pointed out that she was watching from not too far away. Luckily, Sibu intended for his brother to soak in the praise whether he cared to or not.
He was quickly pulled all over the place, where someone or other wanted to celebrate with him.
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