The Small Tales of Yahmajô̗ Alą̧̄utl

Chapter 11: Chapter 10: Rebels of Al-Wa, Part I


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“L?...”

That was the girl’s voice, as Suruj had no idea who the person standing in front of the door was. Except for the fact that it was an Al-Wa soldier. The soldier quickly realized what Suruj was going to do.

“Gr-”

“Dihu Nenrik.”

In an instant, Suruj levitated in the air, as the girl watched him helplessly. Suruj couldn’t breathe, his throat felt stuck, he gasped for air, but felt like he was stuck on a noose, as his body tried to clasp his throat.

“L!”

“Mahou Tokiyagari,” The Al-Wa soldier chanted, and a huge sahar field of sorts expanded around them, causing the environment to cease in motion except for the soldier and Suruj. He was released from the previous spell as Suruj fell to the ground, panting.

“Don’t go around using your sahar, they will know,” The soldier said calmly, reaching out his hand for Suruj. But Suruj slapped the man’s hand out of the way as he stood up slowly.

“Relax, relax, kid. I’m L. You may think that I captured you, but here’s the truth.”

L touched his cap two times, and the symbol on his hat transformed into the Rümqî Kesat coat of arms.

“I’m not here to hurt you. I’ll explain everything to you and why I’m here.”

“You’ve taken us so dat Al-Wa hash fighters for the turnement, right?” Suruj shouted in stunted Azu, looking at the distorted environment around him. “Why iz police officer working for dem?!”

“I, even the fighters that were captured here, have a common goal. We despise Al-Wa. And I will promise to you that I will use all of my power possible to get everyone out of this mess.”

“That’s bullshit. You’re working for the enemy! If you were here to save us then why couldn’t you prevent any of dis from happening to everyone?”

“Because I don’t have a billion clones of myself,” L replied passively, avoiding Suruj’s Azu derogatory language, “I know that you possibly lost some people along the way-”

“Don’t talk about death as if it's nothing! My entire family died because of you guys!” Suruj cried out, as L walked towards him, trying to calm him down.

“I know what it feels like, boy. Deaths of loved ones. I’ve known that feeling for a long time. That’s why I’m trying to do what I can. I didn’t rescue you two from the sea for nothing.”

“...”

L’s second sahar spell ended, as the environment returned to normal. Time resumed, as the girl started to become animate. To Suruj, since the girl knew the man’s name, they must’ve had some connection prior to meeting on the boat.

“L notto e bad person,” The girl said to Suruj, “When ai wa captured en Bayanbürd-shi, zei wanted tu send mi tu Al-Qarakh, en ze eastern countri. But zei receive a request from L to rerocate mi tu Wakoku. He most raikeri rekuested for all captured to rerocate to Wakoku.”

“...”

L quickly cleared his throat and urged them outside the building. It was day, as the afternoon light came through the open building. There was an entire veranda and balcony that formed a second floor, which both floors contained several doors. In the area, were other people that wore different color uniforms, which seemed to be official Al-Wa attire. With a snap of the finger, two assistants appeared and handed L two uniforms with matching pants that were similar to the ones the people were wearing, but were dull with a blank patch on the left sleeves. L then presented the two uniforms to Suruj and the girl.

“These are your Al-Wa uniforms. Made of modified camel hide and cotton, and can withstand most sahar-related particle reactions. Unfortunately, these are the supposed things you wear in the Dineh Kazaàd,” He explained as they took the clothing, “The color of the cloth will change according to the person’s sahar level.”

“How do you know our size?” The girl inspected the polo.

“That’s something you don’t need to know. Get changed in the room you came from, we’re going to have a talk with the rest of the fighters in the evening.”

 

While Suruj was unwilling at first, the girl already exchanged her torn rags for the new attire, so he changed as well. As he walked out of the room, he spotted L leaning against the outside wall, tapping his foot anxiously.

“Quéng hinihintay mo? You waiting for someone?” Suruj slid his sandals back on and closed the door.

“Oh, I don’t speak Galag sorry-” L waved his hands as he replied in Azu.

“Ah, I thought you spoke it since you have a Buhang trait,” Suruj switched to Azu, “Your hair iz a bit brown. It’s hard to notice at first, but other than dat you look like an Azu.”

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“So you noticed. Truth be told, I am part Buhang, but my mother never spoke Galag to me and I didn’t want to learn in return,” L’s eyes started to show discontent, as if he had remembered something resentful. “Anyways, anta no na wa? I believe I told you mine already.”

“Suruj Zundui.”

L tapped the patch on Suruj’s left sleeve as his surname ‘Zundui’ became imprinted on the patch in the Dhaj script, the universal writing system. The clothes’ color began to swirl in color, as if reacting to the boy's saharic mastery, bellowing from dull gray to a marine blue. He looked in wonder as the entire process happened in less than a minute.

* * *

Out of view of the two, the girl, who slipped behind the doorway when she saw L and Suruj, hugged her old clothes as she sank down to the floor. She looked up at the Azu art that was etched up at the ceiling, and stared at the painted sky.

“Your name is Suruj Zundui,” She repeated slowly, her Al-Wa uniform still in dull gray. “Suruj Zundui. I wonder what my name should be.”

* * *

They had to wait until evening, so Suruj had an endless amount of time. He tried to approach one of the other people at one point who passed by, a boy that wore large metal gauntlets on his hands. His uniform color was whitish gray, his surname ‘Perez’, but Perez ignored him as he trudged with his metal gloves back to the second floor.

Eventually the sun rested for the moon, the night blanketing the building with a layer of chill and darkness. Gradually, all the captured people trickled from their abodes, to outside where the moon’s gaze shone. The appearance of some of them had shocked Suruj, as he sensed many of them had a high sahar level or saharic mastery, while some had very little or none.

Aside from the girl, there were nine of them in total. There was ‘Perez’, the wielder of strange gauntlets. Then another girl ‘Toqemur’ who bore braided silver-white hair and dark skin, with her eyes glowing a neon green. A boy, ‘Shunji’ whose hands were wrapped in bandages. ‘Hyun-woo’, with a large weight tied around his neck, and others who had completely different colors and dressing styles. They all stood silently, gathered around the plaza as L walked in the center.

Suddenly, the back door gave a hiss and the door creaked open. Everyone looked towards the door as someone stepped into the building. Since there was no light present other than the moon, Suruj saw a tall figure standing, and they had their hair tied up into a bun. The figure said nothing as L spoke.

“Le Prince de Laoyuang, you’re just in time for the discussion,” He lifted his head, as his eyes grew crimson.

“L, I believe I told one on numerous occasions not to refer to me with that preposterous name,” The man replied, as he let two other people inside. Suruj had no idea what was going on and who those people were, and questioned how many people knew L in total. The two other people were a girl and an elderly woman, which confused him even more. The elderly woman and L locked eyes for a moment. Were the three related to each other?

“L?” The girl next to Le Prince de Laoyuang ran to L, seemingly happy to see his presence. Who would be happy to see an Al-Wa soldier, Suruj thought. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were back in Rümqî!”

“Ms. Izdaha… Long story. But you and the others must listen to what Le Prince and I have to say,” responded L, who had a surprised look. “Alright, everyone listen in. First introduce yourself.”

Saya turned around to the other fighters, all of which were perplexed. They blinked their eyes.

“Wa ga na wa Saya. Yoroyoro.”

Then a wave of phrases followed, as if an international convention had assembled.

“Sain uu.”

“Komo esto!”

“Yoroyoro.”

“Nǔhǎu.”

“Woah woah woah, let’s use Azu only,” L exclaimed, as he pointed towards Suruj and Le Prince. “Kwazhak, Suruj, translate the discussion from Azu to Khoit, Galag, and Renhua.”

“What? But I don’t speak Ren-”

“I can,” Le Prince de Laoyuang, now called Kwazhak, walked next to Suruj. However Suruj had no experience in language interpretation.

“Oh my. So some of these people don’t speak Khoit?” Toqemur yawned, stretching her arms, “Chi Khoit hel medeh uu? Well I can’t speak Azu at all so, hehe.”

There were so many language barriers present, it was almost confusing to look at the entire picture of it. But from each of these people, he knew that they were all invited by Al-Wa, and most likely had been seized by force.

And for Kwazhak Laoyuang, wasn’t he an heir to the government of As-Z̆onghu̐a, Suruj questioned. If L had ties to the Laoyuang house, then they could stop the tournament, or so he thought. It was easier said than done.

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