Yes, We Are There [FOT/Chain]

It had been some weeks since Zubaidah had returned home; in the intervening period, she had decided upon a new course of action. It seemed her old mindset had not done her any favours: she had to take matters into her own hands, not wait for someone else to deal with them. As such, she had travelled around her divided homeland, helping where she could. In the villages, she had given much-needed supplies to cut-off communities. On the roads, she had protected merchant caravans coming into the larger towns. But she knew that it was not enough.

The problem was much deeper in the roots of Parthevian society.

It was the power-vacuum which had arisen between Reim and Heliohapt. If there was no one ruler, but a conflict between two countries, then it gave room for a third party to emerge. It had not been a strong citizenry, however, but a large mess of independent factions. Since the nobles had been driven away, there was no faction which could gather the people under one banner. As such, an emerging bandit presence had started preying upon the weak and isolated communities around the outskirts of the Parthevian capital.

She could not allow this rot to grow any further. It had hurt her beloved homeland for far too long, leaving it weak and hollow. But she was ready now, ready to remove that blight upon Parthevia once and for all.

In the coming weeks, she would begin her challenge. From east to west, she weeded out small groups of bandits, redistributing their goods and reforming their men. It was not an easy challenge, but she could feel she was making progress.

She had also anticipated, however, that she would meet with problems along the way.

It was not long until one such problem arose: on a dusky evening, a man appeared outside their door, demanding a match. Having expected this, Zubaidah could not back down, not when she had come this far, and met his sword with her spear. Without delay, she was first met with a Knife Toss, which she deftly sidestepped, while her simple swipe was blocked with his Resolve Block. As he took her blow, however, she tripped him up and hit him with her spear’s butt, pushing him backwards. As he staggered away, his hood blew down, and...

‘I recognise that face from somewhere…’ Curiosity came into Zubaidah’s mind, invited by that almost-familiar face. ‘But where could I have seen you?’

‘Ah.’

‘You’ve realised it, haven't you?’ He got back to his feet unsteadily. ‘I was the man who started the rebellions in Parthevia however many years ago.’ He spoke those words like spitting out a piece of rotten fruit. ‘Yes, the same ones which drove away the nobles…’ He could not meet Zubaidah’s gaze, wincing like there was a bad taste left in his mouth. ‘...and led your family to their deaths.’

And Zubaidah said nothing.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Why are you just standing there?!’

‘Do something, dammit!’

‘I’m the one who killed your family!’

‘I’m the one who destroyed the capital!’

‘I’m the one who ruined this great country!’

‘It’s my fault…’

‘I deserve to be punished…’

‘I should be locked up, no, worse than that...’

‘I deserve to die!’

‘So why aren’t you saying anything!’

‘Please…’

‘Just say something…’

So Zubaidah began to speak.

‘I do not think that you are a bad man, sir.’

‘What…?’ He stepped backwards, surprise hitting him like a whip. ‘But shouldn't you hate me?’

‘I wanted to hate you.’ She paused for a long second. ‘I tried hating you.’ She took in a sharp breath. ‘But I could never find myself hating you.’

‘Why…’ Then she stared him straight in the eye. ‘Because there was something which never quite added up.’

‘Why did you ask the military and merchant-groups to lock away their weapons in safe-houses, if you wanted a violent rebellion?’

‘How did you…’

‘I have spent years mulling over that day, trying to find reasons to hate you.’ A melancholy smile came upon her lips, eyes welling with tears. ‘But that always stopped me from doing so.’

‘I… I…’ Tears were streaming down his face, falling onto the parched earth. ‘It’s my fault though…’ He could not stop them dripping down, even with his beige-brown sleeve. ‘It has to be…’

‘It’s not your fault, ibn Al-Layh.’ She spoke bluntly, without her curtain of soft and gentle words. ‘You know of my father?’ He looked taken aback at her token knowledge. ‘I could hardly call myself Parthevian if I had not heard of the famous Al-Layh merchant-group.’

‘And that’s another reason I refuse to hate you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You and your family were pillars of the Parthevian identity. Hell, you could trace your lineage to time before my own! So why would you allow Parthevia to fall into the hands of the Heliohaptian goverment?’

‘You were a pawn on the chessboard of two powerhouses, weren’t you?’

‘You…’ He started smiling himself, half from his relief and half from her brilliance. ‘You’re truly astounding, lady Mansur.’ He nodded his head with absolute conviction. ‘I don’t know how you managed to find out, but that’s what I suspected myself.’

‘A month or two before I had planned to protest the farmers’ taxes, I received financial backing from some Heliohaptian bigwig. I had thought it was a bit fishy back then, but I was more than willing to take it. It was for a good cause, I thought. So I kept in correspondence with him for quite a while, until he asked when I was planning my protest. I told him, thinking that it wouldn’t do any harm… Boy, was I naive…’

‘Ah, that explains why the rioters were wielding eastern swords… It was all planned, wasn’t it?’

‘But how’d you manage to piece it all together?’

‘I could hardly call myself a detective if I could not solve something so simple!’

‘I don’t think I could ever come to understand you…’ He might have said that, but he looked like a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders. ‘Then what now?’ All he cared about was that someone had believed him, even if it was just once. ‘Shall I turn myself in? I did attack you after all…’

‘Hmm…’

‘I have a better idea!’

‘Why not join my group?’

‘Yeah, sure.’

‘I mean what?!’

‘But what about…’

‘He said yes, uncle! ‘Could you set out another plate on the table!’

‘Wait, it’s all moving too fast!’

‘Don’t worry about it!’

‘Of course, I will! Besides, I could never be a help to someone like you…’ Zubadiah took his hand in hers, clasping it tightly as comrades-in-arms. ‘Nonsense. You and I are different sides of the same coin…’ Hearing these words, Rafi would think of this moment as the start of a new life. ‘But that is why we must work together to fix our great country, right?’