Investigation

Tap tap tap!

The sound reaches my ears. It seems to be a whisper from the outer limits of my dream. Is someone tapping on a door? There is no door around me, only an endless field of grass where nothing can be heard except for the subtle wind sliding through my surroundings. Then, it can only mean one thing: the noise is not coming from my dream but from reality. I must wake up. Someone is calling for me.

Opening my lids, my room appears slightly before me, a blurry filter covering my view. I cannot easily draw the shapes of the furniture around me. The light is colored with a shy, mellow orange tint. We must be very early in the day. How barbaric, I wonder who is grabbing me out of my sleep after the empty night I had to endure yesterday.

Standing up with difficulty, I limp from tiredness and reach the handle to look for my night’s torturer.

“You’ve seen how early it is, what do you want from…” I don’t even finish my question as my eyes stop at Tariro’s face. She should have raised her voice directly. I would not have reacted like that. I guess she did not wish to wake up the other women sleeping in the rooms next to mine.

“Come, Xia, another member asked me to bring you with me. It’s a new Blades mission. Apparently, sleep becomes an option when you work as a Blade…”

I sigh and follow her. Thirty minutes later, we came out of the room where we had equipped ourselves two days ago. Our number has not changed since the last mission, only the new members followed by Mundra, our supervisor. Each new year must be vacation time for the others more experienced Blades. We have not done any mission with them for now. Reassure yourself, Xia, next year it should be you.

As we leave The Community building with our armors, weapons, and shields, we still do not know what our mission is or where we are headed. Silently, we walk, witnessing the sun slowly veiling our faces with shades of delicate orange and warm gold. My muscles are hard as steel, far from recovered after yesterday’s sleepless night. My mouth is taking its time to wake up, and my eyes close for a longer time than they need to when I blink. This must be a variant of sleepwalking, and I am far from being the only one when I see how no one has the energy to speak.

One hour later, we come close to the end of the high walls of Gungara, passing through another side of the city than two days ago. The bridge here is surprisingly different than the other one. It looks older, definitely more damaged, but also less maintained. We must reach a more neglected area than where we were last time. On the other side of the bridge, many workers are moving around in four different places. They are building the same structure in all those spots. This construction work is definitely huge. Only the king has the resources to gather so many workers and build several houses at the same time.

Wait… looking by the shape and their closeness to the river, those are not houses but watermills. This is why they have those large wheels connected to the riverbank. Gudo once explained to me what those giant wooden wheels were used for. From the rumors he had glimpsed before joining the Community, he said that the motion created by the water and the wheel was transformed into an impressive force no human could dream of. Workers could use it to grind grain into flour or crush iron ore. I was impressed when he told me about it. Still, this is the first time I have seen these things in my life. This must be a recent discovery. It seems that progress never ends.

Another hour passes before our walking rhythm begins to slow down. A village appears in our view. Many huts are crooked next to each other, and we distinguish various people walking between the streets, transporting recent harvest or large vases filled with seeds, vegetables, or water. This place is lively. I wonder why we came here.

Right at the entry, a large man is standing there, waiting. Nobody dares to come close. We even see young children avoiding him while they are chasing after one another. Judging by his appearance, I can tell he is a guard. There is no doubt about it. His armor is thicker, more complex, and richer than ours. Some tiny patterns are visible on the surfaces. We cannot clearly see his shield behind his back or the blade to his side, but I do not doubt that they are as outstanding as the other parts of his armor. There is only one kind of guard in Zimori that wears those eye-catching outfits: the elite guards. The most-trained and educated warriors of the whole kingdom. Their quarters are in the military fort of Gungara. Elite guards exist to maintain the power of the king. It is also their responsibility to protect him. I wonder why this one is here. Perhaps he is waiting for us?

We move closer to his silhouette until we finally stop. He is straight and focused. I cannot tell how many minutes or hours have passed since he has been here. He does not betray any emotion on his face, nor can we guess if he is tired or not. This is a person I would not like to fight against, even here and now: he is ready to fight. Our supervisor, Mundra, makes us wait in line as he salutes the elite guard. Almost immediately, the unknown guard raises his hand as we watch him in puzzlement. If he had wished to catch our attention, he succeeded. Soon, he raises his powerful voice.

“I salute you, reinforcements from the king. I was sent here to expose you to the situation and ensure that unwanted rumors do not spread among the villagers. Follow me and let’s walk a bit farther from here.”

So, The Community really has a deal with the king himself, the Herald was not lying… Our group sure is impressive for people who are seen as outcasts for their belief in spirits. Once we are a few meters away from the village, the elite guard resumes his explanations.

“We want you to catch a criminal on the run. After openly criticizing the politics of the king, he savagely killed a guard in Gungara and ran away into this area. It all happened yesterday evening, but we know he was too injured to go further than Rushinga, the village right behind you. We would have spotted him easily otherwise, seeing how open the fields are around here. The fugitive must be hidden in a villager’s hut. Unfortunately, we cannot tell which one and do not wish to trouble the whole village for this reason. This is why you are here. You must catch this man and bring him back to the military fort of Gungara. We want his body, dead or alive, though we would prefer to have him alive. Still, if the situation asks for it, do not risk the lives of any villagers or your own. Just kill him.”

Nobody dares to speak or add anything. A slight shock appears on everyone’s face. I have never killed anyone, even with my many experiences in fighting. And I guess that this is the same thing for my teammates. They are as perturbed as I am. Perhaps it is different for Mundra, who knows? For sure, compared to us, his face has not moved the slightest. Witnessing that, I cannot help but wonder if he has killed only one person… But I have no right to judge him. In some situations, you can have no choice, especially when you must protect innocent villagers. Before us, the elite guard’s expression does not change either. If he saw the doubts in our faces, he would not speak about it. As he turns slightly and prepares to leave, he concludes with the few pieces of information he has about the criminal.

“He is a middle-aged man with short curly dark-brown hair. His eye sockets are marked, a sign of profound fatigue and nervousness. He wears a faded ocean blue shirt, typical of fishermen. Also, he managed to steal the secondary weapon from the guard he killed. Apparently, he surprised his opponent by stealing his hidden axe and using it to crush his head.”

Whoa, this is awful, I feel bad for the witnesses…

Then, he adds, “To finish, he was struck in the left calf by a spear by another guard as he fled. Now you know everything.”

Ten seconds later, the elite guard has disappeared. He sure is fast. Soon, Mundra disperses us into three groups of two with one simple instruction: we must search for the criminal in the village by using peaceful interactions with the inhabitants. Sadly, I end up in a team with Mbiri. It was obviously not my choice… Shungu rushed to Tariro so he could be with her. Tariro sure is sweet because she looked at me, waiting to have my confirmation that it would be okay if she and I were not together. The other two, Hondo and Kuziva, also teamed up. That left me with only one choice… Mbiri.

While we search for the fugitive, Mundra keeps watch at the village entrance, so if one team needs him, we know where to find him. Mbiri and I are in charge of the middle area of Rushinga. Mbiri and I wait and do not leave immediately. It is useless to rush headfirst without a plan. The two other teams do not share my opinion, as they walk directly to their search area. I had to convince Mbiri to stay here. However, it was not hard to convince him. Since the menacing gaze I gave him during our last mission, where he laughed at me, he is docile and knows when to stop. Perhaps he should not be such an awful teammate after all.

Meanwhile, Mundra is looking at us with perplexity, but I do not doubt my intuition. Here is my idea: we should remove our armor and weapons and leave them with Mundra. Our objective is to gather information and interact with the local villagers. They are not likely to listen and help us if we are wearing a suit of armor. One could think that pretending to be an official guard is a good solution, but I disagree. From my experience, people never like to discuss with someone wearing a weapon. It does not put yourself at the same level as your interlocutor. Instead, Mbiri and I will pretend to be a new couple from a faraway village. Gungara is renowned for his various opportunities. It is not so surprising to meet someone who wishes to move around the main city and start a new life. Mbiri agrees to my proposition, but he looks unconvinced.

Then, Mbiri and I leave Mundra’s position and walk to the middle area of Rushinga. Resigned, Mbiri is the first to act. He sees a villager and travels in his direction. The young man is currently moving dry sorghum into a nearby granary.

“Hello, have you seen any weird person with a bleeding leg coming here recently?”

The man looks at Mbiri in daze before he returns to his labor, ignoring the question. I have to contain myself not to laugh from Mbiri’s attempt. Who would answer such a weird question? At least, he tried… Signaling him to follow me, I glimpse sight of a woman waving baskets with unique patterns not far from me. Coming to her, I crouch and match her eyes with mine before I ask, “Hello. Forgive me for disturbing you, but my husband and I have recently left our village to look for a new living place near Gungara. Many people in the city advised us to come here. This village is called Rushango, is that it?”

The woman raises her head and pierces her gaze through my skin. She has a large build with strong arms. Her hair is short, forming a thin frizzy layer on her head. Before answering, she searches behind me. She must be trying to find my husband to verify my claims. Hopefully, Mbiri reaches me and waits behind, an awkward smile on his face. Once her doubts have evaporated, she decides to answer.

“You’re a lucky couple then. Our village chief is in the vicinity today. He moves between nearby villagers so he can help as many people as possible with his quick judgment. Walk between those huts behind you for five minutes, and you should find him. At this hour, he should be helping with the sorghum. Otherwise, he is on the river docks in the same area to repair the fishermen’s boats. Just tell him Tuna sends you.”

I thank her and begin to walk away with Mbiri on my heels. As we leave, Tuna adds one last sentence, “Oh, and if your husband and you plan to settle in our village, you should know its name properly. We call it Ru-shin-ga, not Ru-shan-go. Do not forget.”

Waving my hand with gratitude, I smile and turn to the other side to look for the village chief. I was startled when I heard her speak of a village chief. I have never heard of such a thing in the Kingdom of Zimori. Could this person have been named by the king himself, or is he a self-proclaimed man? No matter the reason, I would better prepare my arguments if I want to convince him. Let us hope that nobody will be around him during my interrogation.

Reaching the area Tuna spoke of, we see various dry sorghum next to one fisherman’s boat. Except for a man near the boats with planks in his hand, there is no one else. Good. Luck is on our side.

As my eyes meet his, we stop. I look at Mbiri and silently nod to him to let me manage the situation. Mbiri agrees, and we soon reach the man crouching near the boats. As I still ponder my approach, the man speaks up, curiosity and prudence written on his face.

“Good morning to both of you. I never met you before. Are you new here? Can I help you with something?”

Oh… So he is the first to start the conversation, fine. It is easier this way. Searching for my words, I scrutinize him for a few seconds. His skin is dark-golden brown with a hint of deep hazelnut. The shirt he wears is ocean blue and is maintained by a tarnished green belt. His smile is radiant, blooming with self-control and awareness. His eyebrows are bushy, giving him a sturdy look. He seems to be someone you can rely on. So, I found the right person. I am certain of it. Finally decided on what to say, I speak up, “Tuna has sent us to you. She called you the village chief, is that right?”

His smile widens as he answers, “Hahaha, some people call me like this, but I never pretended to be such a thing. Our king is the only ruler to be the chief of all villages. You can call me Chipiri. My real name suits me better.”

This time, I am the one who is smiling. This is perfect. This village chief has fallen for my trick. Let us see how you react now, “Oh, nice to meet you, village chief Chipiri. We are elite guards under cover sent by the king. He was not very happy to hear that a self-proclaimed chief was hiding a criminal. You decide for yourself, either you ask for forgiveness and tell us where the fisherman who murdered a guard yesterday and was injured in the leg is, or we arrest you and bring you before our king. And I did not yet mention what the people who call you village chief will suffer along with your own fate. So, what would you choose?”

Chipiri quickly understands that what I am saying is close to the truth. If not, how would I know about the fisherman? His mouth opens and closes a few times. Hesitation and puzzlement appear on his face. Still, he manages to respond, “I’m sorry, I ask forgiveness for my foolishness. As I told you, our king is almighty. And, about the fisherman, well… this story is not as simple as you think. Nobody listened to this man’s suffering. He just wished to live a life where food is not his sole preoccupation… Believe me, denouncing this man is the last thing I wish for… However, I can’t let the other villagers suffer from my decision.” He sighs, clear pain visible on his demeanor. “Follow me, I will show you where he is currently resting. We should remain silent. Things will be easier if you can take him by surprise. I would also prefer not to warn the other villagers regarding this situation. They already have too many things to worry about with those new watermills.”

I nod with satisfaction before pondering over the end of his explanation. Watermills? Those must be the ones we saw on our way here. Why mention them? Which problems could they bring to the people? They are buildings made to help workers, not punish them. I ponder and, because I am too curious, I decide to ask Chipiri, “Why would villagers encounter difficulties due to the watermills?”

My question triggers a strange reaction in Chipiri’s eyes. They fill with emptiness as sorrow covers his voice, “Since the first ones appeared a few months ago, more diseases have been reported. The overuse of the river has endangered the quality of the water. Drinking has become more dangerous for all the villagers in Rushinga. Not only that, but the fish have also strongly diminished. Fishermen like this ‘criminal’ who tried to make his voice heard to the king have no choice but to abandon their job and find another one or die trying…”

I do not dare to add anything, nor do I know what to say. I cannot help but feel shocked by his revelations. Even if no reason justifies someone to kill a guard or anyone else, I can empathize with the fugitive fisherman. I imagine him slowly dying from starvation because of those watermills and feel a pinch in my heart. Everyone would try something desperate in this situation. Next to me, Mbiri’s face has not changed much. I cannot tell what Chipiri’s explanations made him feel. Silence follows the rest of the path.

Soon, we reach a tiny hut hidden between other huts. They are so close together that you would hardly know there was another one in the middle. Chipiri lets us in as he leaves, too heartbroken to witness the scene. Before departing, he whispered to us that the woman living here is a kind soul who works near the river. And so, the criminal is alone at this hour of the day. This is good news.

Then, as I push my head inside the hut, I understand that the woman living there has almost nothing. His hut is composed of the bare minimum one needs to survive. This is why Chipiri asked us to be careful with his belongings. I hope that violence will not be necessary. I would feel bad to break the few things she has.

Paying attention to the ground, I recognize a thin mattress made of palm leaves. On it, a middle-aged man matching exactly the description the elite guard gave us is sleeping. Watching more closely, I do not notice any axe but remain vigilant. As I continue my observation, I cannot see the usual breathing movements from his body. Could he be dead? Or, could he be preparing something? Do not tell me that…

Suddenly, the fisherman stands up in the blink of an eye and launches his arm. His intent is clear: to cut through my chest with its small, stolen axe. I was not ready and had no time to react. I can only accept my fate and hope for a chance to survive the blow.

Behind me, Mbiri was prepared, much more than me. He kicks the handle of the axe in midair while the arm of the fisherman is still reaching for my chest. Everything happens in fractions of seconds. The axe handle stops against Mbiri’s feet and moves backward in the worst possible direction: the fisherman’s skull. It pierces his head in a flash before the man’s body falls back on the bed.

He is dead. The crazy fisherman is dead. Damn! This is the worst thing ever. Was there really no other solution? As for me, I almost got killed. A part of me wants to shake Mbiri and shout at him for killing the man. Another part is thankful. Mbiri most likely saved my life.

At the end, I do not find the strength to debate or talk with Mbiri. We simply tidy the small hut as best as we can. Not much blood has dropped with the motion. It was fast and clean… I sigh. The criminal should have surrendered. Why would he attempt to kill us? He did not even speak with us. I guess he overheard Chipiri’s whispers and our footsteps. He was definitely a desperate man.

All of this is so sudden. Life has reminded me that fighting is for killing and that it can be fast, too fast. I feel that I am truly becoming a Blade, and I do not know what to think about it… While we carry out the body from the hut, I think about tonight with hope and eagerness. In the slumber of the night and under the light of the moon, I know Yulin will call for me. If what they made me feel during yesterday’s meditation is true, then it means that my duty to them will be revealed more clearly this evening. After all this time, it has come.