Aslon sped down the palace corridor, his footsteps ringing against the polished marble. Marahuyo kept pace behind him, silent and unobtrusive. Without pausing, Aslon pushed open the door to Sula's chamber.
"Marahuyo, stay outside."
"Yes, my lord."
The door opened, Sula sat at his desk. Yizmael lounged nearby, sipping tea, and beside them stood a young woman Aslon didn't recognize, no older than Sula himself. She's reading the recorded history of Ma-i. The stranger sees Aslon and gave an easy grin and a casual wave. Aslon hesitated, caught off guard. "Oh, pardon me," he mumbled, offering a quick bow to the unfamiliar face and then to Yizmael. Turning to his son, he bowed more deeply.
Yizmael rose, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "Elder Aslon, allow me to introduce Princess Ulalume of Iberia, the fifth daughter and eighth child of His Highness."
Aslon's heart skipped a beat. He thought, Princess Ulalume? Here? Quickly, he bowed low to the princes. "Your Highness, please forgive my lack of proper decorum."
"Tsk, it's all right, elder Kuyo," Ulalume said with a chuckle, reaching out to pat Aslon's head as if he were a child.
The old man's eyebrow twitched a little, but he tried to hide it. He also noticed Sula's gaze as it started to harden after witnessing the disrespect of Ulalume's action.
Aslon closed his eyes and put on a smile. He raised his head and said to the princess, "Princess Ulalume, had I known you were here, we would have prepared a feast."
The air inside the room seems to have gotten thicker. Like a slime crawling up Sula and Aslon's skin. The powerplay at hand, and the subtle stare of the princess on Aslon's every reaction.
Ulalume's lips curled into a sly smile, and with a lighter tone, she answered, "Oh, let's not waste resources." She strolled over Sula's desk, her eyes glinting with amusement, "I'm here for a more exciting matter, my dear elder."
Sula blinked as his composure started to slip. "What do you mean?"
Ulalume sat on his desk as she answered, "It seems your little princess might have had her delicate fingers in that nasty little mess at Kubiz."Top of FormBottom of Form
Aslon then asked, "What are you implying, Princess Ulalume?"
"Oh, come on, Elder..." Ulalume turned her eyes towards Aslon, "the tactics at Kubiz, the sudden victory, the miraculous little escape of these terrorists from your oh-so-mighty Arbikizers..." she crossed her legs and arched her back a little, head up high, "quite a clever trick, wouldn't you say?" She gestured vaguely toward Yizmael. "The Governor-General filled me in, and, well... let's just say it all smells like strategy a little too clever for those terrorists' usual antics." Her tone was light, almost playful, but the accusation beneath it was impossible to miss.
"Are you accusing Ginoong Mayari of aiding the rebels?" Sula interjected. Ulalume's smile widened as she leaned casually against the edge of Sula's desk.
Yizmael rose slowly, the deliberate gesture carrying weight. He sipped his tea and placed the cup down with a soft clink. "Datu Sula, this isn't about Tundun's internal politics anymore. If Princess Mayari is involved in the Kubiz raid, she's a rebel. A terrorist. A threat to the peace Iberia so graciously maintains."
"Don't worry, though," Ulalume cut in with mock cheer, her fingers drumming lazily on the desk. "We're not planning to execute her... at least, not right away."
Sula's eyes flicked to his father as he stepped forward; his posture remained stiff. "Princess Ulalume, I must remind you that according to our law, only the Council of Elders can put a Maginoo on trial."
Ulalume pushed herself off the desk and walked towards the stack of books placed on the shelf of the room. From there, she took one of the books, 'Pax Imperium'. She put it on the Datu's table.
"Chapter 1, article 3. your precious sovereignty under Pax Imperium. But an offense against Iberia? That, my dear Datu, is ours to judge." Ulalume's words dropped like daggers at Sula's heart.
Meanwhile, Aslon hid a small smile from everyone. He resigned on one of the chairs, sinking as he exhaled deeply. "You're right princess..." he said, nodding slowly, "You're right..." his gaze shifted to Sula, "Datu Sula and I will provide any help that Iberia needs to capture the Princess."
Satisfied, Yizmael smiled, "That's very good to hear Elder Aslon," he said smoothly before rising from his seat. Ulalume followed, giving a casual wave at Aslon and Sula before stepping towards the door. As they left, Marahuyo bowed low, escorting them out in silence.
The room fell silent, save for the faint echo of retreating footsteps. Sula slumped in his chair, rubbing his temple as a deep sigh escaped him. Across from him, Aslon leaned back, a small, unmistakable smile spreading across his face.
Sula's Nu spilled all over his body, then outside. The whole room shook at the power. It felt so hard Aslon himself began to cling to his chair's armrest as sweat started to race from his forehead.
Ulalume and Yizmael paused for a while, outside the palace. Yizmael felt the heavy atmosphere covering the whole area. "That damn brat..." he uttered.
Meanwhile, Ulalume looked back at the window where the Datu's office is located. "Tundun is really an amusing place, Governor-General hahaha..." Then she continued walking.
Back at the office, Aslon tried to calm his son. A few more seconds, and Sula was finally able to calm himself. The young Datu found it weird that his father, the head elder, just easily accepted what Ulalume just said.
"You got questions?" Sula doesn't even need to speak; his father knew him well.
"Yes, why didn't you fight for the Council's right, father!?" Impatience was audible at Sula's question.
Aslon adjusted himself as he tried to recover from Sula's earlier tantrum. "Firstly, the Princess is right. That's written on the law." He sipped a tea, and continued, "Secondly, trying to argue with Yizmael, and her will only lead to us prolonging the inevitable."
Aslon showed a rare smile, his eyes showing a glint of satisfaction. "But, most important of all... this is our opportunity."
"What do you mean?" Sula asked.
"To be honest, I didn't expect the princess's arrival." Aslon puts the cup on the table, "but her arrival accelerated my plans."
"Plans?"
"I've known Mayari since she was young. Her joining the Penumbra or any terrorist groups was not a matter of 'if', only 'when'." Aslon explained.
Sula's confusion became too obvious, and so Aslon assured him, "Just trust me son. This is all for our family, and Tundun's future."
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One Week after the Kubiz Raid
In the winding, crowded streets of Itakam, whispers moved faster than the carriages rattling over the cobblestones, weaving through the labyrinth of narrow alleys and open plazas. The air was mixed with the mingling aroma of roasting pigs and the shouts of merchants selling their products. Despite the usual bustle of the city, something intangible lingered in the atmosphere... a tension that crept into every conversation, every hurried glance.
Mothers and women gathered in a shaded park, their voices low as if a group of rebels trying to conspire something as they kept half an eye on their children darting between trees and benches. The occasional cry of a vendor hawking sweet rice cakes or dried fish barely distracted them from the pressing topic at hand. They huddled together in tight circles, their hands gesturing or pressed against their lips, as if afraid the city itself might overhear their secrets.
The whispers rippled through the air like the breeze rustling the narra trees, carrying with them tales of rebellion and monsters. Their words, though hushed, were filled with tension and fascination, painting pictures of what they had heard, or maybe... just maybe, what they thought they had heard. The city, alive and restless even under the veil of dusk, seemed to pulse with the energy of the rumors that now traveled its veins.
"Have you heard?" one mother leaned in, her voice just above a murmur. "About the raid at Kubiz?"
"Oh, of course," another replied, her eyes widening. "Everyone's talking about it. The terrorists, the Penumbra... they freed a whole group of slaves forced into polo. Can you imagine?"
"Polo," one mother scoffed, adjusting her shawl. "Just a fancy word for making them work themselves to death. Good thing those terrorists showed up. Maybe they're not all bad."
"Oh, don't start with that," another chimed in, rolling her eyes. "Penumbra isn't some group of heroes. They're troublemakers and terrorists. Always have been."
"What kind of terrorists free a group of slaves?" the mother with a shawl answered back.
"But did you hear about the creature they had with them?" The youngest among them leaned in, her voice a little too eager. "They say it's not even human."
"Creature?" one of the older women frowned, "What are you talking about now?"
"A danag," the younger woman whispered, her tone dropping like a dramatic effect. "You know, those blood-sucking monsters from the old stories."
A collective gasp swept through the group. One mother crossed herself instinctively. "A danag? Don't be ridiculous. That's just old folk nonsense."
"I'm telling you," The younger woman pressed on, undeterred, "they say it's seven feet tall, with silver hair and eyes that glow like embers. Oh, and get this... they said he's quite handsome."
"Handsome?" another mother snorted, covering her mouth to stifle a laugh. "What kind of monster is handsome?"
"The kind that sucks your blood and leaves you wanting more," the younger one teased, winking.
"Stop it!" the older woman scolded, though she looked both annoyed and a little intrigued. "This is serious. If Penumbra's got monsters fighting with them, what does that make them?"
The group fell silent for a moment, their eyes darting uneasily around the park. The laughter of children seemed distant now, the playful shouts muffled by the weight of their conversation.
"Well," the younger one smirked, "if they're trying to scare the Iberians, it's working. I heard they're furious, even burning the whole Isla Puting Bato as a retaliation to the terrorists."
"Honestly," one mother said, breaking the tension with a dismissive wave of her hand, "who knows what to believe. People make up these stories to spice things up. The terrorists, a danag... next they'll be saying it fugitive princess Mayari who planned all this."
"The missing princess?" someone interrupted.
"Yes, her!" the younger woman nodded eagerly. "Some say she's dead after a group of Laksamana bounty hunters took her down. But words spread that she's still alive."
The group fell into thoughtful silence, though their gazes flickered toward the street, where the rumor mill churned. In the city of Itakam, tales of rebellion and monsters had grown legs, running from one corner to the next. And with each retelling, the lines blurred further between truth, fear, and fascination.
On a nearby bench, Kuroy and Agni sat, their ears carefully tuned to the whispers that floated from the passing crowds. As fragments of rumors reached them, they exchanged glances. Silently, they nodded to each other. The rumors at Kubiz had finally reached cities such as Itakam. Mayari's gamble on not forcing the other slaves to come with the Penumbra was beginning to pay off.