MIRAGE IN A SEA OF SAND
A shallow slumber envelops me.
I linger on the border of sleep and wakefulness, hounded by the same old thoughts.
Am I a good king? Am I taking those silver teachings to heart?
Can I present myself proudly to the woman who taught me?
Lady Ali…Lady Ali…
My mind rocks as if in a cradle. Even the voice calling my name sounds distant and faint.
Oh, where am I? When am I?
“King Aram!”
The voice rouses me from slumber. I slowly open my eyes to see the stout face of the merchant man who has been my stalwart ally through all my joys and sorrows.
“…Bofman?”
“Yes, it’s me, Your Majesty. Are you all right? You seem tired,” remarks Bofman, seeing me stare off into space. “The party is about to begin. You shall be representing our fledgling nation out there. The people will be very keen to see how the young king of Shalzad conducts himself.”
“…Ah, yes, you’re right. Apologies. I think I slept too much last night.”
Whipping my idle brain to work, I stand up from my chair.
Many moons have passed since the end of the Calamity of the Hot Sands, the war between Shalzad and Warsa. Plenty of time for a naive, young girl to blossom into an adult, whether she wants to or not, and for a weak prince to mature into a brilliant king.
Shalzad has become arguably the first great nation to rise from the vast swathes of the west-central region of the Kaios Desert. This founding is what the upcoming gathering purports to commemorate…but in reality, it is little more than an opportunity for rival states to determine our influence. Representatives from every neighboring state will be attending with the sole purpose of probing me for weakness and assessing where they fit into the new balance of power.
“It has been a long road, Bofman. Thank you for accompanying me this far.”
“Not at all, Your Majesty. We of the Fazoul Trading Company simply spotted a business opportunity and capitalized on it.”
Bofman has lost a lot of weight since I first met him and distanced himself from his moneymaking habits. Now he is the very model of a dignified statesman, and while I do not know what possessed him to receive a Falna and level up twice, I do know that Shalzad would not be half the nation it is today without his tireless service.
Even I have grown a little taller, something I thought I would never see. With age comes wisdom and the broadening of my horizons. I can scarcely imagine making the same, ignorant remarks today that I made back then.
We have all grown much since that day. Myself, Bofman, all of us.
“…I thank each of you for coming all this way today. It may only be for a short time, but I welcome you. Wise people of distant lands, I pray the desert watches over you all.”
After stepping into the main hall and greeting the guests with a speech that could charitably be described as “not boring,” the grand ball is underway. There is wine and flowers, dance, and the graceful, plucked tones of the oud. A celebration of Shalzad’s rich culture.
Most of the hushed voices I overhear are centered around me.
“So that’s King Aram…”
“He really is as handsome as the rumors say.”
“That and his shrewdness make for an impressive package.”
“Did the gods not mistakenly bless him with too many gifts?”
“Oh, I wonder if he would grace me with a dance?”
In the crowd, I spot the prime minister of the largest empire in the world; the top mage of Altina, kingdom of magic; nobility from Dizara, the ocean realm that is the opposite of the sandy lands of Kaios in every way; and even representatives of Orario, the Labyrinth City…Although I am a leader myself, I reel at the thought of meeting these dignitaries face-to-face. Even something as minor as the order in which I greet them can be taken as an affront. It is no exaggeration to say that my actions represent those of Shalzad itself, and just as one good word can secure the future of my nation, one ill-timed remark can seal its fate.
I begin making acquaintances, at times showing deference, and at others projecting strength, until at last, just as I am approaching the end of my first round of introductions, I come across a lively group.
“Princess! You mustn’t stuff your face when there are people watching!”
“But, Uskali, the food here is amazing! You try some, too, Lidari!”
“I’ll pass. I don’t mean to be rude, but the cuisine of this country does not agree with my tastes.”
A strikingly beautiful princess, accompanied by an elf and a blindfolded swordsman who appear to be her escorts. They are each enjoying the delectable culinary delights our humble nation has to offer.
As I approach, the princess, clearly a blend of multiple heritages, calls out to me.
“Oh, it’s the king! Hello! Pleased to meet you!”
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Princess Talvi,” I say. “Are you enjoying the festivities?”
“Yes!” she beams. “Thank you for inviting us to such a wonderful event! But are you sure it wasn’t a mistake? Our country’s just some backwater village, you know?”
“Princess! You mustn’t address His Majesty so carelessly! Nor should you heap shame upon Beltane like that!”
“But it’s true,” the princess replies. “We’re just nestled in the mountains somewhere. It’s basically not even a country at all!”
“Princess…!”
The elf, apparently a long-suffering attendant to the princess, groans and clutches his head. The swordsman, meanwhile, seems utterly unconcerned with anything besides the princess’s safety. They make for such an amusing trio that I can’t help but smile. The bonds of familiahood run deep—even I can see that.
“Princess Talvi,” I say. “Rest assured, your presence here is no mistake. I would very much like to ask about the secret waters that your nation is said to conceal.”
“Oh, that’s what this is about! Okay, sure! I don’t mind!”
Despite her graceful appearance, Princess Talvi can be surprisingly childish. Charming and expressive, she paints quite a stark contrast to a certain overburdened little girl, weighed down by royal duty. Her bright and gentle smile brings happiness to everyone who lays eyes on her.
“By the way,” she says. “I saw how you handled Orario just now. I can’t believe you beat back that big bully and got a good deal out of it!”
“Ha-ha…You must have been watching. Apologies if you saw me acting a little above my station,” I say, picking my words carefully so as not to cause offense to any involved party. It seems the princess bore witness to my now-signature negotiation style.
The nations of Kaios have become increasingly dependent on trade with Altena in recent years, such as for the construction of the desert ships. I have been speaking with the head of Orario’s Guild, who is very keen to agree to a trade deal on magic stones instead.
What I proposed was essentially a student exchange program. The idea was that I would promote magic-stone trade as much as possible, but in return, I would be allowed to send several of Shalzad’s top warriors to train in Orario—specifically, within the Dungeon.
The harsh desert environment of Kaios is famous for producing many second-tier adventurers called kavir. Even Aisha Belka of the Berbera found her start among these dunes. We thus had a great number of diamonds in the rough without any means of refining them.
I suggested that Orario take these fledgling warriors and train them, and in the future, they could even join Orario’s familias, thus bolstering the standing armies of the Labyrinth City. In return, however, they would be obligated to take on quests to further the long-term benefit of our nation.
I know from firsthand experience how devastating an adventurer can be. It is only natural, then, that I seek to harness that power for the sake of my homeland. If Orario refused, then that was their prerogative. It would simply mean that I would have sent my countrymen to Altina to learn magic instead. When I presented this alternative, there was much handwringing from Mr. Mardeel, but in the end, he accepted my proposal.
It is always nice when either outcome of a negotiation is desirable. I think back to the elf who taught me that.
“But there’s one thing I don’t get,” says the princess. “How come you call yourself a king and not a queen?”
As soon as she says that, I freeze. Fortunately, none of the other partygoers seem to have heard her. Even her own attendants simply tilt their heads and ask, “Princess? What are you talking about?” By my side, I hear Jafar’s breath catch in his throat, and I think poor Bofman nearly died.
…Perhaps I am not giving this princess the credit she deserves. I considered her a childish, naive individual, but she is apparently quite perceptive.
In the awkward silence that follows, I rack my brains thinking how best to respond, when all of a sudden, the music changes. Now it is time for the second part of my ball, an interlude in the continental style.
Seizing the serendipitous change of mood, I smile at the princess and offer my hand.
“You have piqued my interest, Your Highness. Would you care for a dance?”
“Oh, so Shalzad doesn’t allow queens. I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”
We walk up the steps, hand in hand, as elegant music plays.
Knowing I can’t keep secrets, I decide to tell Princess Talvi everything about the circumstances of my birth and my country. When I finish, the princess looks genuinely ashamed.
It attracts a great number of stares from the other dignitaries to see a king dancing with a princess of a foreign nation, but there is little I can do about that, save keep a smile on my face and ensure my voice remains hushed.
“I thought maybe you were hurting yourself for everyone else as well…That’s why I asked.”
She means no harm; I can see that. But I notice something else. “As well.”
“What do you mean by that?” I ask.
“In the past, I sacrificed my own well-being for the sake of my country,” the princess explains. “I was so, so scared, but I didn’t want anyone else to worry, so I smiled and pretended it was fine.”
I don’t know what she’s been through, but what I heard shocks me.
“Ever since I first saw you,” she says, “I thought you and I might be the same.”
I can’t help but agree with that sentiment.
“It’s true that I did that once,” I reply. “I saw myself as a stepping stone. A figurehead to keep the throne warm and my people happy.”
I have been content to do as my father wishes, to conceal my gender and offer myself up for the good of my nation. That isn’t what Ali wants. I have been forcing myself to be Aram instead.
But…
“I’m not like that anymore.”
Today, I smile with my whole heart. No longer am I resigned to walk the path fate has drawn for me.
“I love this country and all the people who live here.”
“!”
“There have been hard times. On more than one occasion have I considered sacrificing myself for my country. But through it all, I have never resented my people, and I trust the same is true for you as well.”
The princess’s eyes, colored like two different gemstones, fly wide-open.
“Because a passing goddess once told me that sacrifice…is the most meaningless death of all. Instead, I have decided to lead my countrymen in my own way. To guide them.”
“‘To guide them’?”
“Yes. To have faith in myself and to show my people the way…like a true hero.”
I think back on the words that now provide such a deep foundation for my life. At first, the princess is silent, but then…
“…That’s right. You’re so right. Just like Bell and Haruhime!”
Her cheeks redden, and she smiles like a child. Just then, the music comes to an end. I marvel at how well we came to understand one another in such a short time.
We still our steps and smile at each other, and then the princess speaks, looking up ever so slightly into my eyes.
“I think I like you, Aram. I really do.”
I am surprised to hear that at first, but it slowly dawns on me that here is a soul that treasures each encounter like no other.
However, her words immediately throw the room into uproar, with onlookers taking them as either a declaration of love or an amorous proposition. I do not enjoy being the bearer of bad news, but I fear such dreams are doomed from the start.
“I feel the same way,” I reply. “Glad am I to have met you, Talvi.”
Thus, our miraculous meeting comes to a close, with me addressing the princess on a first-name basis, as she has done with me. I watch as she waves and vanishes into the crowd, giving thanks to fate for arranging this dreamlike encounter.
However, as I stand there, still feeling the effects of our conversation, a voice from behind breaks me out of my reverie.
“Excuse me, Your Majesty. Could I bother you for a moment of your time?”
When I turn, I am treated to yet another shock, for standing there is a prum gentleman I know well.
“My name is Finn Deimne,” the man says. “A humble adventurer from Orario…Alas, not so humble as to require further introduction, I fear.”
He is confident but not incorrect. This man is the captain of Loki Familia, one of the most powerful organizations in the world. No doubt he is here accompanying Orario’s representative, Mr. Mardeel.
“A first-tier adventurer from the Labyrinth City,” I say. “You honor me with your presence, Mr. Deimne.”
I then turn my attention to the girl by his side, who curtsies politely.
“…Pleased to meet you, Your Majesty. My name is Aiz Wallenstein.”
If I am to be perfectly frank, the girl’s beauty instantly steals my breath away. Why, she is very nearly an equal to a goddess of beauty herself. Certainly, the fairest face at the gathering by far.
She has been blessed with the youthful appearance of a girl just sixteen summers, though by no means childish, and while I wonder how much of that is caused by her falna, I notice that every pair of eyes in proximity, whether man or woman, is drawn to her captivating looks. She seems like a nymph that has just stepped out of a fairy-tale book.
After I regain my composure, I return her soft and gentle smile with my own.
“I wasn’t intending to get involved in all these politics,” says Finn. “We’re just the muscle, you see…But I must admit, something about you intrigues me.”
I feel the man’s discerning eye look me up and down, then he looks at me and grins.
“Would you indulge me in a game of Halvan?” he asks.
“You mean…right now?”
“If you wouldn’t mind. I’d like to test your mettle.”
I can’t believe what I am hearing. Surely even Mr. Deimne knows of my skill at the game. While he produces a malik out of thin air and begins twiddling it in his fingers, Ms. Wallenstein grows visibly distressed.
“…Are you sure about this, Finn?” she asks.
“Not really. Go keep Royman occupied for me, would you?”
Finn turns his eyes to me and grins a fearless smile.
“I’m going to give a desert king his just deserts.”
So this is the famed Braver. He is a little cheekier than I was expecting, but I am happy to accept. For my part, I have been humiliated at Orario’s hands before—specifically by those of a certain goddess of beauty and her followers. I am long overdue for a little payback.
“Very well,” I say. “I relish the opportunity to teach Braver something for a change.”
In short order, a board is set up in a corner of the room. Jafar is none too pleased—saying this is hardly the time or the place to be playing games—but I try my best to ignore him. After all, the night promises to be replete with politics. What is the harm in a little diversion? I argue the visiting dignitaries are surely getting bored by now and that a little stimulation will do them all good.
“Do you know how to play, Mr. Deimne?”
“I’ve been reading up on it from the moment I set foot in these lands. You don’t need to worry on that front.”
Is that really enough to grasp the essentials of such a complex game? He reminds me of a goddess I use to know.
It has been a long time since my competitive spirit reared its head, and despite my best efforts, I can’t stop my lips from curling into a grin.
“I’m afraid I mustn’t keep people waiting. Would you mind if we try to keep this quick?”
“Go right ahead.”
I throw down the gauntlet right from the get-go, just as I had on that one fated occasion all that time ago.
And the similarities, if I had anything to say about it, will not end there.
“…Regicide?!”
Everyone around us, including Finn, gasps. I invoked the rule of sacrifice, passing the malik status to my own malika.
Of course, it is just a game, but people immediately begin speculating on my intentions. What did I mean by committing such a symbolic move?
Well, I’m sorry to be a spoilsport, but I didn’t mean anything by it. If it was a slight, then it was one only a certain goddess living in Orario would understand.
As the implications of my unconventional move sink in, Finn smiles and presses his own assault.
“…It’s my loss.”
It was practically a game of Blitz Halvan. Finn required no time at all to consider his moves, yet trapped my malika quite magnificently. The game lasted around two hundred moves, and while all the onlookers cooed in delight, I was left feeling completely drained.
“It’s been too long since I last played a game,” I say. “I had hoped to secure victory, but it seems it wasn’t in the stars.”
All my efforts to mimic a goddess have gone to waste. I exhale a deep sigh.
“I’m sure you might have won had you stuck to a more orthodox playstyle,” says Finn. “Plus”—he carefully reverts the board to a state approximately fifty moves prior—“if you moved your merkabah here instead of your rauch, then I would have lost.”
“What?!”
“Amazing!”
“He came that close to beating Braver?!”
The crowd begins to murmur. I, on the other hand, am struck by the queer feeling—this is not the first time I have been humbled in this manner. Perhaps I placed too much stock in teachings I still don’t fully understand. All I can see in my mind’s eye is an elf and a catman, jeering at me.
“…I always seem to let victory slip my grasp at the most crucial moment,” I mutter. Wearing a wry smile, I begin to collect the pieces, while the spectators offer a polite smattering of applause and file away one-by-one.
“Still, I’m a little surprised,” I say, once only Finn and I remain.
“By what, Your Majesty?”
“I never took you for such a clean player.”
All is fair in love and Halvan. In our game, whenever Finn made a sacrifice, I would make moves to provoke him. I was mostly interested to see whether he would choose to play dirty or not.
From what I know of Finn Deimne, morals mean little to him. He is a man willing to do whatever it takes to achieve his aims, whether that means pulling tricks or making sacrifices. A true statesman, like one of us.
However, the Finn I played against was not like that at all. He never hesitated to make the fair and upright choice every single time.
“I always thought you were more willing to get your hands dirty,” I say.
“Well, you aren’t wrong,” replies Finn, unoffended by my unflattering preconception. “If that’s what’s required of me, then I will. This is…a little embarrassing to admit, but there was a time I considered myself a man-made hero. It wasn’t until fairly recently that I realized just how meaningless that title was.”
“What happened?”
“A group of heretics and a young boy happened. In that turmoil…I saw the light.”
Finn smiles.
“An imitation, no matter how perfect it is, will never be real,” he says. “I realized that what I was lacking was strength, conviction…and ambition. So now, I walk the high road.”
Finn’s words cut much deeper than I expect. Long ago, I struggled to accept whether I was qualified to lead. Has the man before me gone through that struggle as well?
“And it’s not just me who’s changed,” says Finn. “Aiz has, too, though I’m not sure whether it’s for the same reason or not.”
I follow Finn’s gaze, to see the golden-haired girl conversing cheerfully with Princess Talvi.
In all honesty, I have been thinking the same ever since she curtsied before me. The girl is far more amicable than her nickname, “Doll Princess,” led me to believe. People call the Sword Princess an instrument of destruction, an avatar of slaughter, but perhaps she, too, has come up against her own troubles and found her own answers.
I look out across the resplendent hall, taking in the party atmosphere, when a somber mood takes hold of me.
“Mr. Deimne,” I ask. “Are you handling Mr. Mardeel’s security by yourselves? What of the other great faction of Orario? …Are they not here?”
I was half hoping to spot that whimsical goddess. Maybe she snuck into the party or sent her followers to check on me. To see how I’ve grown.
Maybe…Maybe……
My own desperation disgusts me.
“I’m afraid it’s just us,” says Finn. “Well, there is another familia helping, but…Ah, that’s right. Now that you mention it, Lady Freya did ask me to pass along a message to the king of Shalzad.”
“!”
I lift my head, and Finn imparts the contents of that message to me.
“She says, ‘I have found my Odr.’”
“Haruhime! It’s been so long!”
“Princess Talvi! I missed you so very much!”
I watch as two foreign princesses clasp hands and giggle together. Meanwhile, I approach the boy who is standing nearby.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Bell Cranell.”
“O-oh, Your Majesty! Pleased to meet you!”
Surrounded by a baby-faced goddess and his other friends, the white-haired adventurer gives a hurried bow.
He lacks any of the dignity that Finn and Aiz possess. So much so that I wonder if this is really the boy I have been told about.
To be honest, I am jealous of him. Between the two of us, I am the more handsome one by far, and he seems perpetually nervous, like a young child. How could someone like him have stolen that goddess’s heart? I peer into his clear, rubellite eyes—the eyes of a hero—and speak.
“I have heard tales of your many adventures,” I say. “I would like to ask you something, if you don’t mind. How is it that you have been able to overcome all the trials along your path?”
The boy doesn’t hesitate.
“Because of all the people I’ve met,” he says, wearing a proud smile. “They’ve helped me and taught me so much. It’s only because of them that I’m here today.”
The goddess by his side grins. His friends all smile warmly for a boy who will never change.
“I have to pay them back for all the times they’ve saved me,” he says. “That’s the only reason I’ve come so far.”
It is white. Blindingly white.
So this is the hero to the downtrodden.
I see it now, Freya. It was this blinding, clear sparkle that stole your heart. You always were susceptible to it.
I chuckle to myself at the thought.
“Mr. Cranell,” I say. “I would very much like to hear more tales of your adventures, if you wouldn’t mind.”
What I want is very simple.
“I would like to know the path a hero walks.”
This is a meeting of many people. An intersection of many roads. Many stories.
A desert king, a snow princess, a hero with secret ambitions, a sword honed through battle, and a savior of many others. Today, all are present on this sea of sand.
As I marvel over just how miraculous this meeting is, I…
“Lady Ali!”
The moment I hear those words, I know my dream is over.
“…Bofman.”
“Yes, it’s me, my lady. Are you all right? You seem tired.”
They were the very same words I heard at the start of my dream, but the place and time are completely different.
I am in the royal palace of Shalzad, and as I look around, I see that Jafar is there. My retainers are as well. They are all there to look after me, the young prince.
“The Warsa army may be in retreat,” says Bofman, “but this is where our battles truly begin. The restoration of Shalzad will be an onerous task…This is where we shall see if Lady Freya is truly watching over you.”
Bofman kneels in deference. From his behavior, I can tell it was shortly after the goddess and her followers departed from these lands.
As I sit atop a throne only recently won back, a smile spreads across my lips.
“…I had a dream,” I say.
As I try to remember, I find the contents of my dream turning to white, and after a few moments, I can no longer recall who I talked to or what we discussed. All that stays with me now are feelings of joy and love.
“Our nation was thriving, and I had become its glorious king, introducing myself on the world stage…”
“Th-this is surely a portentous sign! A blessing upon you and your reign, Lady Ali!”
By my side, Jafar grins a wide smile.
Is this dream prophecy or delusion? I can’t possibly know that yet. Even if I stay the course, how can I be sure that the paths of the people I met in it will ever intersect with mine? How can I be sure that the stories I heard will remain the same?
They might not.
When I approach, the reality may end up being quite different.
But even so, I will hold this mirage close to my heart.
I will have faith in myself and conduct myself with dignity, like a hero. All so that I may meet those people again.
“Now, then,” I say. “Let us begin.”
And so I start down the path of my story, but a single thread of a rich tapestry.
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