5. The Queen in Exile

  Dawn skittered after Nana, hopping from one cracked paving stone to another. At first it was to avoid tripping like she told him to, but he turned it into a game to distract himself from the swelling crowds. She wasn't as hard to keep up with as the other adults back home, but it was harder in Sheadun with so many weird looking people in the way. Other kids would definitely be scared, but he wasn't, and Rav wouldn't be either. They wouldn't because they were the best of everyone else at running and being brave. He wanted to tell the others where he was and how he didn't get lost at all, but realised that they wouldn't believe him and still make fun of him.

  "Nana, me and Rav climbed the tower by the pass, and we didn't fall! The sentry guard didn't mind or anything," he proudly blurted out, wriggling his chest to adjust his new, itchy linens. The fit was too big, as usual, but she said he'd grow into it.

  Nana slowed her pace, but didn't stop. "Is that so? Well done, son. I couldn't do that, so you must be very strong. I better get you to do the market runs for me with those big arms of yours," she said over the foreign chatter around them. Wispy spikes of her short, pale-brown hair danced in the pungent, swirling market breeze. "You'll be careful now when you're playing, won't you? The ground is a jealous friend that doesn't want to let you go."

  "Yes Nana, but I'm not strong… Rav is strong. I'm fast. He's a stone cat and I'm a water dragon! I can run faster than Duck and everyone in the pit and—"

  She hooted with a hand over her mouth. "—oh yes. That poor rooster got the fright of his life when you went after him. When I was a young girl we had a cat, and we played chase just like you. Water dragon, indeed. Now who's filling your head with all these fanciful creatures? Hmm?"

  He grinned wildly at her, almost catching his foot on some creeping ivy in the process. "Uhmm… Elm showed us drawings of stone cats when I was staying over. Anddd… Talon let me look at some books in the Archives."

  "How nice of him. Did you remember to say thank you?"

  "Yes Nana."

  She took them left, along a row of tables covered in coloured cloth. "Good boy. Would you like to be able to see more books in the Archives?"

  He held onto the back of her skirts as a guide. He swelled with pride at an opportunity to tell her about what he’d learned in the Archives. "Yes Nana. The animal ones are my favourite. Rav likes to hear about the bad wild men in Erdgard and all the things they do, and the traitor Humma, and—"

  Nana stopped abruptly, turning on her heels and getting onto one knee before him. She looked cross. "—no, no, Dawn. Not like that. Who told you to talk like that?"

  "Blackstone said… sorry. I didn't mean—" He broke off, burning with shame and confusion. His eyes started to fill with hot tears, and he forced his gaze to his feet.

  She pulled him in tight for a hug, forcing him onto his toes before planting him back down. "Never you mind what he says. The Humma are not traitors. The people of the world live on their own terms, and they deserve our respect for it. We're no different. All that matters is who you are and how you want to be treated," she said, prodding his chest with a bony finger before standing up.

  He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, still ashamed, but happy she wasn't mad at him.

  "What do you think about where you are now?"

  Every direction he looked were scores of adults of all shapes and sizes tending to small stalls filled with food and trinkets. Men paraded with hangers of cooked fish, shouting in harsh or beautiful languages that he didn't understand. Colourful banners and tabards with sigils he’d never seen before hung from every surface. Laughter and debate sung out over the din of the bustling peoples from every corner of Erdgard, and all were cast in the orange glow of a hundred lanterns that continued beyond into the dark depths of the town sprawl.

  "Well?" she urged.

  "Uhm… I like all the colours. I was scared when we arrived, but now, not as much," he admitted, knowing he couldn't fool his Nana.

  "Does it remind you of anywhere? How about those stalls there? The one selling bread?" she said, nodding to a collection of stripey breads he'd never seen before. They were tended to by a thin, dark-skinned woman with yellowed, metal bangles around her neck that jingled as she worked. Cheese wheels were stacked to either side of the table.

  "Uhm… like home in the mornings? By the square."

  Nana smiled warmly. "Yes! Just like home, and countless other homes a world away. Come," she said, striding over to the bread stall.

  The strict looking woman suddenly became animated when they approached. She seemed to know his Nana, which didn't surprise him because his Nana knew everyone. They bowed to each other and made weird signals with their hands. He didn't understand, so he just hid behind Nana's skirts, slightly embarrassed.

  "Aum shri aranyaniya namaha, and a thousand good summers to you, Heartwood the Web," said the woman in a deep, steady voice.

  Dawn thought she spoke like a Master.

  Nana chuckled. "Don't be silly, Rojani. Just Heart. You know I don't wear the titles."

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  "Perhaps you should. They are earned. In Udaya such women are prized."

  "Tell that to my husband."

  The adults joked together of things he didn't know or understand, so he examined the bread woman's dark feet under the table. Her shoes were missing, and her soles looked tough as if she'd walked the whole world on them. Around both ankles were more yellowed, metal rings that, like her neck, were too small to take off, making him wonder how she got them on in the first place. Hanging loose over her whole body was a closed, purple garment that was more robe than dress. It came down to her shins at different lengths, as if someone had taken great square cuts out of it, the border of which was accented by a thin row of angular, white versions of their own spiral sigil.

  He felt out of place when adults talked in hushed voices, as if they were trying to keep information from him, and he felt bad for inconveniencing his Nana. He didn't want to be a burden to her. Worse yet, he was bored.

  "Hmm? Everything okay?" said Nana suddenly, both women now looking down at him like mother hens.

  "Yes Nana. Sorry…" said Dawn, annoyed at himself for interrupting them. He took a step behind her to hide himself from their attention.

  "And who is this little Guardian?" asked the woman. She casually handed Nana a rolled up parchment that she immediately examined, then took a step to the side to address him openly.

  It took him a moment to process that she was speaking directly to him, and he had to respond. Often adults just threw their questions at him without expectation, or simply answered on his behalf, but the bread woman was patiently waiting. "I'm not a… gardinin. My name is Dawn. We live in Amona."

  She bowed. "Aum shri aranyaniya namaha, and a thousand good summers to you, Dawn. I'm Udaya Rojani Jatindranath-Jatin." The woman spoke slowly, but deliberately, as if she knew the whole world waited on her word.

  He opened his mouth to attempt to speak the woman’s name, but felt his cheeks burn red before he even began. He noticed she had green eyes, like him.

  "Don't fret, young one. My name is difficult for those of these lands. Udaya is my home, Jatindranath was my father, and Jatin is our family dynasty. Rojani is my name, but you may call me Roji or Mother, if you like, though I understand that may be strange for you."

  "Nana can say your whole name, Rr—Ror— Rorjin," he said, struggling with the pronunciation.

  "That is true. Your Nana spent time learning with me so we could better speak together. Now, here we are, and here I am; talking and able to tell a young Guardian my story this day," she said, spreading her arms out.

  "I will learn too and tell… my story today."

  She smirked and raised an eyebrow at him. "I would be honoured. Such fire, like the dawn. A strong name. Dawn is the beginning after the end. It's the promise of an always for the dark is forever behind you; but beginnings can take many forms. What sort of a beginning are you, Dawn?"

  He didn't understand and waited for her to explain the question, but when it didn't come he forced an answer to satisfy her smiling patience. "Uhm… I want to be a good one, like Nana."

  "Your Nana is one, but you are another, so what are you?"

  He started feeling frustrated, but recognised that it was just because he didn't understand. He started to consider the question more thoroughly and found he enjoyed carefully forming his thoughts.

  Rojani hummed without any hint of impatience, but still full of intense expectation.

  "I want to protect my Nana, and Rav, and… Elm, from the Sinti. I'm going to be a really good fighter. Everyone says I'm good with swords, and Rav says the others are jealous. I want to read all the books too, and draw animals like Master Elm."

  "A fighter that protects. A Guardian, and a well-read one. Those are noble goals, young Dawn. I can see the warmth of day in you, it is certain, but— hmm…" she paused with a sense of urgency and hummed to herself in thought. She leaned in and peered closely at him like she was digging through his head. "You are a clever one and a kind one, but I see more… something old, like memory."

  Nana peered up from her study.

  Rojani abruptly turned to her and clapped her hands together. "But most of all, he is a handsome one, is he not?"

  Nana sucked in through her teeth. "Oh goodness, yes," she said, returning her attention to the scroll.

  "You will break many hearts, young Dawn."

  He wrinkled his nose. "I don't want to break hearts."

  Rojani slipped out from the side of the stall to stand before him. In the light, it became more obvious that she took good care of herself. Her simple presentation allowed her to blend in with the unkempt crowds at first glance, but on closer inspection her teeth and skin were unblemished, her face round and healthy, and her wiry hair was picked out to perfection. "All hearts must break, for only when things are broken can they learn to grow strong."

  "When I grow up I'm not going to break anything," he said with conviction. He couldn't imagine why anyone would be proud of that.

  "This is not true my Guardian, for today you will break mine when you leave for home."

  He smiled, hoping he had a smile like hers.

  "In Udaya, young potentials are raised up with spirit and form as yours. All the merchant sons and daughters would compete for your hand and favour, with gifts of scented oils and blossom birds from the black sands of the lost lakes," she said, her emerald eyes glazing over in memory.

  Dawn's face lit up at mention of animals. "I like birds. My best friend is called Rav for raven, and we have a rooster called Duck that hates Blackstone."

  "A raven. Hmm… they are clever birds. Is he a clever bird, Dawn?"

  "Uhm… nooo—." He giggled at the suggestion. "I'm better at study than him, but sometimes he sees things I don't."

  "The dark birds of the western reaches are harbingers, but like all with wings, they see things we do not. A good ally to have. The colourful birds of my home are heralds too, but of a different sort. You might say they're like a dawn, too." She winked at him.

  "He's not a… harbringers, Miss Rogana. I think sometimes he just misses his mother. She died in the Narak, and it makes him sad."

  "I see. You are very perceptive, and your Rav is very important to you. I hope I caused no offence. Can you forgive me?"

  He couldn't help but giggle at the formality. He liked it, like they were playing kings and queens. "It's okay. He is a stubborn goat sometimes. Master Elm says so."

  "I think you would like the many-eyes of the southern region, like my son. They dance for their mates and come in all shades of purple and green."

  His eyes opened in awe at the suggestion, and he felt equally excited at the mention of her son. He didn't get along with most of the others at home, and sometimes it made him feel lonely when Rav was busy or he had chores. "Can your son come play with me and Rav? We like to climb, and he can climb with us or watch if he doesn't like to. We play Shuffle too. I'm really good at Shuffle, but I can teach him how to play. He can stay over with me and Rav when we make camp by the river. We find the best sticks and make swords, but I always win and—"

  "—Dawn. Enough," said Nana sternly, looking down at him like when he and Rav skipped training. She was warning him into silence, but he couldn't understand what he did wrong.

  Rojani soothed Nana with a wave of her hand and took a few steps towards him. She had a very slow, but sure way of walking that he liked, like she owned the market. Her eyes sparkled with tears. "You are a sweet boy. You would have been legendary friends, I am certain."

  He was confused by the sudden shift in tone, and though he knew he wasn't the cause, he knew he’d inadvertently brought it forth. Something bad had happened, and his Nana would want him to apologise, but words always felt empty to him. Instead, in a moment of bravery, he dashed forward and wrapped his arms around her legs, squeezing with all his might.

  Rojani's surprise turned to a deep chuckle, and she rested her hands in his hair. "Sweet Guardian. My heart will surely ache tonight."