Chapter 2. New Dawn

NABU

Two years ago. Asterisk, Village of the Bald Heads.

“My armor has grown heavier. But I shall manage,” the queen laments, her voice sounding grumpier than usual.

While staring at herself in the mirror, she struggles to adjust her shoulder plate, and since it wouldn’t fit, she flings it away and sighs. I can tell she’s in a lot of pain, judging from the way she assumes a slightly bent posture. But as usual, she makes conspicuous efforts to hide it. Perhaps because she has always been of the view that it is only a weakling that shows emotions.

She veers around and faces me, and I cannot help the way my heart sinks. It sinks so deep into my belly. Her eyelids have swollen up and darkened so much that the color of her iris is now pronounced—light gray, almost glowing. Her face has grown to be very pale, her lips dry and scaly. If I did not know this woman, I would have asked her to let death ease her suffering. But I do know her; she is my mother.

Her golden armor intimidates her frail body, glistening as usual, prestigious and fancy, bearing the royal seal of a dragon’s head on its breastplate. Her wine-red hair has been braided and pinned tightly, revealing the contours of her face, its sleek curves a testament to the fact that this woman was once a beauty to behold before the disease degraded her to this fragility. After all, I took after her.

Naturally, victims of the Black Death illness died within a week, or at most two weeks. However, this woman has lingered on for eleven months, enduring the excruciating pain that comes with it and clinging to life just for this very moment.

“Hand me my sword,” she demands, and I know better than to defy her. She trained me so well, ensuring that I got the best education from the Halls of Wisdom in Iridu—although I did not complete my studies due to unforeseen circumstances. But then she would always brag about me that one day, I would be just like her—the ideal warrior and ruler.

Nevertheless, there is one thing she never taught me: how to be her daughter. I had to learn that myself since she could not always let herself be moved by sentiments.

My insides drown in sorrow when I lift the shiny sword from where it lay on the bed, wondering if she will be able to wield it in her condition. The weight of the armor alone should be enough trouble for her. Nonetheless, my concerns mean nothing when it comes to obeying my queen. They only leave a sour expression on my face.

I offer her the blade with my face bowed since I can’t get myself to look at her face any longer. I might burst into tears, which is unacceptable.

“Here it is, Mother…” My voice trails off, a sob threatening to overpower it. After taking a deep breath, I take up courage and lift my gaze, only to see her quivering hands struggling to clench the handle of the sword. Uncontrollably, fluid begins to collect in my eyes, blurring my vision.

“You know what, you can keep the blade too, Nabu,” she says, her voice low and drawn out, as though the act of speaking alone is draining all her strength. “But you must never use it unless extremely necessary…”

I am unable to hold my heavy heart any longer. I drop the sword and grab her in an embrace, warm liquid trickling down my cheeks.

“Mother,” I whimper repeatedly as the familiar scent of her perfume fills my nose. Lavender, how can I not have it etched in my memory since it is the last day I will have a mother on earth?

I plant several kisses on her cheeks. “You don’t have to do this; you can hold onto life a little longer and let me fight on your behalf. You trained me well.”

I feel her arms caressing my back. “You will do no such thing, my girl. You will let me die with honor as the Neem warrior that I am, do you understand?”

“Mother, please…”

“You have your orders, soldier.” She pulls out of the hug, glaring at me with that familiar, intense, and expressionless face.

I nod, with rebellious sobs and whimpers pushing out of my mouth. Usually, she would caution me for not keeping my emotions in check, but today she doesn’t. Today is different. It is the day my life changes forever.

That I even see my mother’s eyes damp with tears for the very first time in my entire life damages me beyond recognition. Her strength has always been my shield.

“Find your father, Nabu,” she instructs. “Only then will you understand why this mission is worth the sacrifice of our kingdom, our very lives…”

“Your Majesty,” a tall, lanky, ebony woman strides into the tent, interrupting her speech. Clad in her usual black leather armor, silver blades hang on every corner of her torso. Her bushy hair, standing erect, has a different texture from ours. It is rough, dark, and coarse. She bows slightly in reverence to my mother.

“Forgive me, Your Grace. Perhaps I interrupted you.”

“Speak, Qin…” the queen replies, and she raises her head. Her facial expression is far from pleasant. Her sad stare says it all. They are here. The Annunaki.

My mother heaves. “It is time then,” she says, then pulls me into a warm embrace, planting several kisses on my cheeks and forehead before glaring into my eyes sternly. “Remember who you are, Nabu. You are the daughter of a legitimate king and queen, the sole heir to the throne of Perth. My blood and the power of the Ovie runs in your veins.”

“I will never forget, Mother,” a wail pushes out of me.

“Good. Also, remember your mother’s name and what she stood for. I am Karen, the Neem, the warrior Queen of Perth. I lived and died for honor and duty. Promise me that…”

“I promise.”

“But most importantly, remember to let your instincts guide your path. Always use your head and not your heart, my girl.”

My heart is yearning to tell her how I feel about her leaving me all alone in this brutal world, but when I open my mouth, my voice disappears into profuse sobbing. “I love you, Mother…” I manage to let out.

She nods, “…And I you. In this life and the next.” She sharply lets go of me and turns to Qin. “Guide her in all knowledge. She has come of age so you will tell do according to my instructions from earlier. Understood?”

She beats her first on her chest and bows slightly. “Certainly, my queen.”

“You have been more than a sister to me, Qin. You have served me well in this life. Now let us finish this like the warriors we are,” Karen concludes, grabbing her helmet from the shelf and planting it on her head. It has a mask on it and white fluffy feathers at its tip. “The mask is good. Lest the enemy knows of my illness,” she mutters.

“Cheers to greater glory, friend.” She pulls two daggers from Qin’s sheath and strides away. I follow suit, my heart thumping within, the sound of footsteps trailing me, a sign that Qin lurks behind.