MEENBABE: Herstory (GXG)

13

Aoom's POV

As I slowly opened my eyes, a dull ache pulsed through my head, and an unsettling weight pressed against my chest. Attempting to survey my surroundings, I could only discern blurred images of women gathered around me.

"She's awake!"

"Oh my god, Aoom! Are you okay?"

Their voices melded into an incomprehensible hum, overshadowed by the persistent pain in my head. Closing my eyes, I drew a deep breath, striving to find solace.

After a few minutes, as my body seemed to acclimate, I cautiously opened my eyes once more. This time, the women's faces came into focus.

"Don't force yourself; you can take your time, Aoom," Charlotte cautioned, restraining me from attempting to sit up. I signaled that I could manage.

"God... w-what happened?" I inquired, a lingering worry etched across their faces.

"We should be the ones asking that... We were very worried; you two were the last ones to emerge from the Dark Forest. What's worse is Meena was carrying you while you were unconscious... what happened?" Snack explained.

"The last thing I remembered was... I was caught up in a lake's whirlpool, and... oh my god, is Meena okay? How long did I sleep?"

"Yes, she is... Don't worry; there's not even a single scratch on her. You were out for about six hours," Engfa responded, causing my forehead to crease. Meena had undoubtedly faced numerous challenges in the Dark Forest; it seemed perplexing that she emerged unscathed. It's not that I wished harm upon her, but it defied logical expectations, considering she had carried me throughout.

"Where is she? Where's Meena?" I urgently inquired.

"She went to assist the Princess... The battle of the royals will be held in the market today," Pailiu informed me, instantly rousing my entire being.

"Dang! Let's go; we have to watch!"

***

"Attention! We already have sixty-three royals who will participate in the Battle of the Royals!" The guards' synchronized shout electrified the crowd. In this sea of people, we girls strategically scattered ourselves, evading any suspicions that might arise.

"The participants are required to wear masks to conceal their indentities and avoid being targeted. The rule is simple, there is none. They will all be placed in the tribune. As the sound of drums echoes throughout the place, they can start attacking anyone they want. The last one standing will represent Arkemia in the Battle of the Kingdoms!" The enigmatic man, whose identity eluded me, explained.

The crowd erupted in cheers. The excitement soared as the royals entered the tribune one by one. When everyone had taken their place, the man spoke again.

"In the count of three... two... one... let the drum rolls!"

As the drum's thunderous beat echoed, the clash of swords filled the air, and the scent of blood lingered. I strained to spot the princess amidst the chaos, but her identity remained a mystery. All I could do was believe in her abilities.

As the minutes ticked by, a particular participant caught my attention—a blur of speed and strength effortlessly dispatching opponents. With each swing of his sword, he sent multiple adversaries flying, leaving a trail of fallen competitors in his wake. It was a display of skill that bordered on the surreal, as if he were playing a deadly game with calculated moves.

After a relentless half-hour of intense battles, the number of remaining royals dwindled. The contender who caught my attention earlier, is now soaked in the blood of his fallen rivals, stood out prominently. His white attire was now stained with crimson, a testament to the lethality of his strikes. Curiously, he seemed to hold back, showcasing only a fraction of his true abilities.

With only eleven contenders left, they collectively surrounded the formidable figure who stood out. The tension in the air escalated as the group closed in, launching a coordinated assault. The crowd erupted into cheers and shouts, the excitement reaching a fever pitch.

Yet, the mysterious victor effortlessly parried their attacks, revealing a mastery of the sword that surpassed all expectations. In a single, swift motion, he dispatched the final opponent, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.

"I think we have a winner now!"

"My lord, you may remove your mask and introduce yourself."

As the victor stepped to the center, still masked, a hushed anticipation settled over the crowd. The air crackled with curiosity and speculation, eager to unveil the face behind the victorious persona.

"My name is... Princess Rina Chatamonchai..."

No... It couldn't be.

The revelation sent shockwaves through the crowd, myself included. Rina began to remove her mask, and I felt my heart pounding, threatening to burst from my chest.

No.... no.. please no!

As she finished unveiling her face, her eyes locked onto mine, void of emotion. It was a stark contrast to the familiar warmth I used to see in them. It was as if she didn't know me...

Everyone witnessed her face—the face of Rina Chatamonchai.

The face of Meena.