Revolutions

9 - Walumaq

No matter how reluctant I typically am to wake up so early in the morning, any doubt is cast away when I see the faint green and beige of the shoreline through the mist after such a long time on the sea. I've been on my share of ships before, of course, but setting off to the continent is a thrilling and surreal prospect. Anything undoubtedly beats circling our home island, Sanqo, over and over again — and don't get me wrong, just setting foot on a ship is wonderful in its own right. However, I never thought I needed adventure so desperately, and I'm learning that exploring the unknown (to me, at least) is something my heart has needed all this time. It requires a lot of restraint to disguise my giddiness and look as calm and regal as my father, but there's no question it will to seep out as the coast of the continent comes more into view.

A fierce determination is painted on the face of each oarsmen as Siunqi barks commands to the crew, and we gradually approach our destination. Every rower looks chiseled of stone, with their exposed, dense muscles flexing as they grip the oars. Hanging on the side of our ships are a variety of shields that bear family sigils, similar to the main hall of the castle. These shields, our Sanqo colors, and my father's cape are a stark contrast amongst the neutral wood tones. I use my hand to periodically secure the blue and red macaw feather I've braided into my hair, given to me by my mother, Cheqansiq, for good fortune on this journey. The feather, as well as the slightly sweet scent of seaweed that tinges the air, brings about a feeling of nostalgia for the home we all have left behind.

After the ships reach the rocky shores, each man drags their vessels out of the water onto the beach with a series of thuds. There are sporadic sprouts of long grasses that jut outward higher up the banks, and after a few long strides from the water, we arrive at wisps of grass that appear like a balding man's effort to hang onto the few strands of remaining hair. Siunqi tells me during our journey to the continent that we cannot trust the people enough to dock in their harbor just yet and must be diligent about our mission, discrediting my brother, Pahua's, plan to be deceptive and travel under the guise of being merchants.

"That boy has a childlike imagination," Siunqi says, and I know full well he did not mean that as a compliment.

"So why should we meet with the Tapeu at all?" I ask. "It seems as though the entire journey is fraught with danger. He's at least aware of that much."

"As much history and situational awareness as your brother gets wrong," he says, "he's correct about our people being being cast away to the island. With the rebuild, it's an opportunity for the Sanqo to diplomatically right past wrongs. The Arbiter is offering peace, and if it means sparing our ships to the cause, it's a small cost."

"And this separatist group wants to disrupt our chances of rejoining the factions of the continent?" I ask.

"Some people never forgive," he says, "and they prefer the new state of affairs to exist as they are. They gained while we were cast out, and they don't want us to return to the stature we once had. We have to make sure we're taking every precaution necessary. Something your brother will never understand."

"Do you think we'll be safe?" I ask, genuinely concerned.

"Nothing ever goes according to plan," he says with a chuckle, "but if I didn't believe we'd be safe, we wouldn't be traveling here."

My father examines the land thoughtfully, eventually snorting in approval, and signals to the men with two fingers pointing upward, then swirling them around in a few small circles. While some remain behind to protect the vessels, the remaining crew begin shouting at one another, pulling shields off from the ships, drawing their weapons and marching away from the shore.

"Stay close and keep a sharp eye on the horizon," Siunqi commands me, as if I were one of his warriors. "We can't be certain there aren't hostiles, and we don't want to be caught by surprise."