04

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Leah stared blankly at the endless blue sea. She sat on the cliff of her homestead—her wrecked hut behind her, and in front of her was the echo of her mother fleeting beyond the horizon. Leah’s eyes were dry from the tears that she had shed throughout the day. The hardest she had ever cried was when she was a child, but this day was something different. When her eyes could no longer do it, the rest of her body continued to weep, draining all of her energy to a point where the simple act of standing was far too great of a task. Every thought of her mother was a weight on her bones and was met by the thought of the lifeless bodies of her villagers on the beach. The thought of Kya being dragged away was followed by the thought of brave Elder Nyago in his eternal slumber on the blood-stained sands. If there was a day in Leah’s life that called for more than just tears, it was this day.

Raal watched her as he stood by her wrecked home. He wanted to comfort her, but he couldn’t. Who was he to be that comfort? The Atlohs were there because of him. What was ‘sorry’ going to do? Did that simple word ever actually help anything compared to any kind of actual service? Regardless, the conviction hit him harder than the waves that crashed on the rocks beneath her. He turned away from her and made his way back to shore to aid in any way he could.

As the day went by, the Auroites investigated the other village in the forest and as evening crept up, they began to leave. A number of them were ordered to stay to help repair homes and guard in case of another attack; a hopeful attempt to bring a sense of peace back to the islanders.

The commander began to walk back onto his ship as Raal stood and watched him. Raal was grim over the villages being attacked, but he couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of the commander. He found the Auroite’s failed assumption of him quite satisfying.

Before the commander stepped too far away, he turned around to Raal. “We’ll be seeing you sooner than you think.”

“Not likely,” Raal shot back.

The Auroite smirked and then slammed his fist onto his armored chest. He was saluting Raal.

Raal looked bewildered. “Any reasoning for this?”

“Though this village has fallen into disarray, it would have been a lot worse had it not been for you. Good job.”

“Is this like a truce or something?”

The Auroite laughed as he relaxed his saluting stance. “Truce? Not in your lifetime. We Auroites just have a little something that you may not have heard of called honor.”

“Hmph, I’ll look into it.”

“You do that. It may just save your life one day.”  Then the Auroite commander got onto the raft and then onto the ship. Troops manned different parts of the ship, and steam came out of the top chimney of it. A deep-sounding horn blasted through the airways, and the huge metal ship set sail.

Raal watched the ship for a little while as it became more and more distant from the shore, then he let out a deep sigh as he looked at the remains of the village.

It was a depressing evening in Oaka Village. The cries and moans swept through the village like a plague. The once-playful children now walked solemnly with their parents or walked alone, wondering if they would ever see their parents and friends again. People cried for their missing loved ones and their destroyed homes. One woman wept with such emotion that multiple women came around to console her. The village was in total desolation, and the absence of joy was evident. 

Leah picked up a small item that was slightly buried in the sand. As she stared at it, her heart melted. It was a doll for a young girl, and it had scorch marks on it from the weapons used by the Atlohs. This was a sheer symbol of the disaster that hit the village. A flare of anger, sorrow, and sadness illuminated inside of Leah as she placed the burnt doll back on the ground. After she stood up, she stared at it for a while longer.

“It’s not going to get better,” Raal said from behind her. He was finally able to muster up the courage to say something.

Leah kept her eyes on the doll. “My father gave me a doll on my fifth birthday,” she murmured. She continued to stare at the burnt doll as a slight flashback came into her head, causing her to smirk a little at a nice memory. “Kya became really jealous. She was always like that. Because my birthday came before hers, she always felt like I was getting more than her. So, my father traveled to Ban-U-San. I’m sure it was for other errands, but he searched everywhere in the city to find one just like mine. It wasn’t exactly like mine, but it had its resemblances. Kya was still happy to see it when her birthday came around. Up until now, she kept it on her bed and slept with it every night. You would think she’d grow out of it.” 

Leah turned away from Kya’s burnt doll in the sand. She clenched her fists as she painfully thought about her cousin and Aunt Kyara. “I don’t want to think about what could be happening to them right now,” she told Raal in a downhearted voice. “Those Atlohs . . . they’re ruthless.”

“They’re Atlohs,” Raal said. “Ruthless is a compliment.”

Leah shook her head. “However, so am I . . . I . . . I killed someone.” Her mind played back the scene of her blade stabbing through the chest of her victim. “I’m just as ruthless.”

Raal’s heart sank. This whole time, his conviction was causing him to believe that she was only thinking about how much she hated him, but no. This young girl had known nothing of this life. “Don’t say that,” Raal demanded. “You fought to protect both the villagers and yourself. Don’t lower yourself to the standards of the Atlohs.” 

Leah said nothing to that. 

Raal stood next to her and stared at the doll as well. “Leah,” he muttered as his conviction began to trump his ego. “I’m . . . I’m so . . .”

She finished his sentence. “Sorry?” She looked at him with her forlorn eyes. There was red where the white around her irises would be. “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

Raal kept silent. There was nothing he could say. He deserved any kind of backlash for what he had brought to her. However, he certainly didn’t expect these two words.

“I’m sorry,” Leah said to him. 

Raal reared back, galvanized. “You’re sorry?” he asked to assure what he heard was true.

Leah nodded. “Don’t blame yourself for this,” she said as she turned her head back to the scorched doll. “Atlohs are Atlohs. You proved who you were when you fought them off.”

Raal, again, kept silent. He was more speechless now than he was before. Did she just ask him for forgiveness—forgiveness for simply being upset over his own blunder? He had never met someone with such a humble heart before. He looked at her in astonishment as she walked off to help the villagers. 

The rest of the night, he did his best to be of assistance to her and the rest of the villagers that were hurt by the Atloh raid. And once the first night after the battle ended, Leah, again, humbled him by offering her house as a place for him to sleep. Even after all the sorrow he caused, she still gave him a place to rest his head. Leah slept in her room, and Raal was given a pallet on the floor of the living area. As he lay there, the conviction continued to build in him. “Leah,” he said just loud enough for her to hear in the other room. “I don’t know what to say. I just . . .”

“Sleep,” Leah told him from her bed.

Raal kept silent as he looked up at the large leaves that made up the ceiling. The moons shined through them, giving the house a cold, blue tint. He frowned as he thought about what he had done. A few moments of silence filled the home before Raal heard the faint sniffles from the other room. The fact that Leah was trying to mask her weeping hurt him even more. He needed to make things right. He squeezed his eyes closed and attempted to sleep through the repetitive cadence of her uttering the word, mother.

The next morning, Leah was awoken by angry shouts from afar. As she got up she realized Raal wasn’t there. She ran out of her empty house and, to her surprise, saw a large boat anchored offshore. This one seemed to have less armor than the Auroite’s ship and was made out of wood. A lot of hardy men manned different parts of the ship, and all of them looked to be ruffians. “Pirates?” She looked on and was relieved to see Raal standing next to another young man about his age on the edge of the beach. The shouting, however, was coming from one of the Auroites who were down there with them. About a dozen Auroites stood with their swords in their hands as they glared at the few new faces on Oaka’s shore. Leah started walking down to shore to see what was really happening. The last thing Oaka needed after an Atloh attack was an Auroite and pirate dilemma as well.

“What are you doing here!” one of the legion Auroites shouted. “This place is under Auroite investigation! Leave! We will not say it again!” 

A blonde-haired girl with a bandana over her head nonchalantly twirled a twig in her mouth as she coldly ignored the Auroite. Attached to her waist was a curved sword and a couple knives were sheathed along her leather slacks. She glanced at the Auroite and then rolled her eyes, continuing to twirl her twig with her teeth. Behind her stood Raal and his acquaintance.

The Auroite shouted again. “If you don’t leave now, we will be forced to remove you ourselves! Had we known The Basilisk was going to show up here, our admiral would have stayed just to see you all in shackles! Be on your way, scum pirates!”

“Sem’s wrath, do you ever shut up?” The girl spit the twig out of her mouth and put a hand on the hilt of her sword. “I’ve had about enough of this. Cap’n, let me take his head off so I can see if these iron-faces actually have spines.”

The Auroite stepped back a little as his fellow men lifted up their weapons to prepare to fight. The blonde girl kept a nonchalant look as she stared at them with her hand still on the hilt of her sword.

As Leah walked up to witness the fray, Raal smiled and pointed to her. “Hey, come over here.” He then leaned over to his acquaintance. “This is the girl that I was telling you about,” Raal told the guy. “Leah, this is Miro. He’s the captain of this crew.” Raal pointed to a group of people setting up the boat for departure. 

Before Miro said anything to Leah, he sighed and yelled out to the blonde haired girl, “There will be no decapitations, today.” He looked at the Auroites. “We’re only here to pick up a friend. We don’t want any trouble.” 

The Auroites kept their blades up until the girl released her grip on the hilt of her sword. As she did, she coyly chuckled at them. “Don’t look so serious. Of course you have a spine. You wouldn’t be able to walk if you didn’t.” Then she turned around. “Though, whether or not you have stones down there is still up for debate.”

The Auroites glared at her as they sheathed their weapons. They seemed both used to and tired of her snarky remarks—clear proof that they had history. The Auroite looked past the girl and pointed at Miro. “Carry on. But make it quick. We better not see you here come sunset.”

Miro sarcastically did a half-hearted salute. The Auroites cringed and then dispersed to continue their work on Oaka.

“Those iron heads,” Miro said as he shook his head. “Why do they always have to act so high and mighty all the time.” He then turned to Leah. “Hi,” he said, putting out his hand to shake. He had long, slick, black hair and blue eyes. He also had tan skin like Raal. He wore a chain around his neck and an opened vest. The most distinctive part of him was a black basilisk tattoo that went from his neck, around his right arm, all the way to his hand.

Leah shook his hand. Then she looked at Raal. “You’re leaving today, aren’t you?” she asked. She looked so innocent to Raal that he didn’t want to leave her, especially with her mother gone. 

“Yeah,” he said in a somber tone. 

Leah frowned and turned away. After what had happened, being left alone was not what she wanted. “Be safe,” she told him. “And thank you for your help with these Atlohs.”

“Leah . . .” Raal said her name with an empathetic frown.

Leah continued. “It was nice to meet you . . . and you, Captain Miro.” Then she walked back to the house.

Raal watched her leave as he kept his frown. Miro turned from her and then turned to Raal. “This Atloh stuff hit her pretty hard, huh?”

Raal nodded. “Her mother was taken.” He stared at Leah. All she did was look at her ruined house.

“Well, that’s a conflicted situation,” Miro said. “Didn’t you say that the Atlohs followed you here? You owe her something big.”

“You’re right,” Raal said, nodding. He already had something in mind that he had been pondering over the night before. “I’m going to need your ship and a few of your abled crewmen.”

Miro looked at Raal. “For what? You know that I wouldn’t give you my ship. Whatever it is, I’m with you.”

“Well, then you’re in for the long haul,” Raal told him. He looked back to Leah and then he sternly said, “Because I’m going to find her mother.”  

Miro looked at Raal. “Wait, what?” he exclaimed. “Are you serious? You can’t do that.”  

Raal lifted an eyebrow. “And why is that?” he asked. 

“You said Atlohs took her! I don’t plan on getting myself killed chasing them down just to find some woman.”  

“Fine, you don’t need to come, but I’m taking your ship.”  

“You’re taking my ship?” he said. “The one I built? The one it took me years to build? My ship?”  

“It’s you or the ship.”  

Miro looked back and forth between Leah and his boat. “It’s funny that you’re saying so confidently as if I’d actually let you take it.” Finally, he shook his head and sighed. “You do remember what you did to the last one I let you helm, don’t you?” 

How could Raal forget? He almost died crashing it into those rocky cliffs. “So, you’re coming?” he asked. 

“I suppose. You’re not giving me much of a choice.”  Miro folded his arms and looked out at Leah. “But if any Atlohs start shooting at us, I’m steering the boat right to the nearest port. A choice between fighting Atlohs and drinkin’ rum is not a hard one to make.”  

Raal nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of them.” He patted the sheath of his sword. Then he shouted out to Leah. She turned. “You want to help me look for your mom?”  She looked bewildered, but when she looked at the boat and put two and two together, she smiled. 

As she made her way to them, a young boy tugged on her pants. She gazed into his large, sad eyes, and then she stooped down to him and patted his head.

“Are you leaving, Leah?” the boy asked.

Leah nodded, “Yes, I am. But I’ll be back”—she stood up and looked at him with determination—“with our villagers that were taken.”  

The boy smiled. “You are?”

She ruffled his curly hair. “I promise,” she told him. After she said that, an immediate flashback hit her. “I promise,” Leoran told nine-year-old Leah as he patted her head and hugged her. “I promise that I will return.”  Leah thought about that scene and suddenly she felt . . . powerful.

The boy laughed and then ran to his grandmother who was sitting outside of her ruined house. “Gram, Gram! Guess what! Leah’s going to save Mama and the others!”

The boy’s grandmother looked up at Leah, who looked at her as well. They both nodded to each other with respect, as if to say “Good luck.” After that, Leah made her way to the ship.