Chapter Text
Act III - The Four at Loggerheads
the desert queen
After Candace’s warning of the incoming sandstorm, everyone quickly relocated to the village chief’s house. They went quietly, like naughty children who had just been told off by an exasperated older sister. The silence only got heavier as they quickly shook off the sand on their clothes and settled down around the dining table, Candace having disappeared in the meantime.
When Paimon asked, Dehya explained that Candace was actually the Gaurdian of Aru village, so it fell unto her to make the final rounds and ensure everyone was safely inside their homes.
However, with Cyno and Al-Haitham having very pointedly settled on opposite sides of the room, the atmosphere became very quickly choked with a weird tension.
"Well- this is pretty awkward."
Stubborn silence met Paimon's lacklustre attempt at levity, causing her to sink embarrassedly down behind the table and out of view. However, before the Traveller could make their own attempt to kickstart a conversation, a crisp but warm voice pitched in from the kitchen door, "My, we do have quite the lively bunch here, don't we?"
The Traveller turned to see two figures entering the room, one familiar and one not. The woman in front was the one Dehya had referred to as Candace, who carefully shook the sand off of her shield before setting it down by the front door. The other was the woman who spoke, carrying a large tray holding several cups of chai and bowls of namkeen and biscuits, which she set down in the middle of the table. However, while Paimon was immediately distracted and floated over to the snacks, the Traveller's attention was drawn to the woman. They were immediately struck by how… regal, the newcomer looked, almost magnetically so.
The first thing the Traveller had noticed was that her eyes were covered by a delicate sash. The second thing they noticed was that she was wearing the most beautifully intricate sari the Traveller had ever seen outside of a sari shop display mannequin, and she wore it like the artisan had fallen in love with her created the design especially for her. Interestingly, the drape of the sari was quite unconventional, but it thus allowed her more free movement, while still looking undeniably graceful. Her heavy golden ornaments with their encrusted deep red rubies twinkled in the early afternoon sun, and everything, from her dress to her jewellery to the way she carried herself, screamed royalty.
"Are you divinity?"
The activity in the room lulled. Specifically, Paimon's biscuit froze halfway to her mouth and even Al-Haitham's teacup stopped a scant few centimetres short of his mouth, while Dehya simply stared in disbelief at the Traveller. And okay, to be fair to them, it wasn't often that the Traveller spoke their thoughts out loud -largely content with Paimon being their mouth piece- but there was just something undisputably otherworldly about this woman that had pulled the words right out of them.
The woman in question had idled, hands curled around Cyno's cup midway of handing it to him, but it was only a momentary pause in motion. She finished handing the cup over and smiled sweetly at the Traveller, "My dear, whatever gave you that idea?"
"Actually!" Paimon quickly stuffed her biscuit in her mouth and swallowed loudly, "You do look really- uh- godly. What's your name, ma'am?"
Paimon's address seemed to amuse the woman to no end, her hand drifting to her mouth in a graceful gesture as she let out a heartened chuckle. Even Candace looked deeply amused, glancing at the woman once before answering Paimon’s question, "I just realised that our other guest has not been introduced to everyone in the room. Al-Haitham, Paimon, Traveller, this is Hera. She is the matriarch of the Tanit tribe, one of the larger desert settlements."
The woman's- Hera's- hands fold neatly in front of her as she gives the rest of them a short bow, "It's a great pleasure to meet you all."
The Traveller's greeting is limited to a short bob of their head, as their eyes instead drift to Al-Haitham, who's eyebrows have lifted in uncharacteristic surprise. They don't think they've ever seen him emote so strongly before.
"Really, the pleasure is all mine. Tell me," Al-Haitham actually sets his chai down, which until now he had clutched in his hand like a shield from the rest of the people in the room (specifically: Cyno's unashamed glare) "Are you the reason why the Tanit have slowly been increasing trade with the rest of Sumeru, where they had been mostly content to remain largely isolated before?"
Hera smiled an enigmatic smile, something that had more information buried behind it than she was willing to divulge in words, "You know your history. Yes, we have made an effort to increase trade in the recent past, finding that there seems to be many valuable resources in the desert that people would like to trade for. It's to our advantage that these resources are difficult to obtain otherwise, due to the unforgiving nature of the sands. In fact, we've been so successful that trading has become one of our primary priorities, as it is much easier to trade for the basic resources that are not so readily available to us. In the end, I do believe it's a win-win for both parties."
"With all due respect, that is a gross over-simplification. Your primary export spices are a very valuable commodity, due to the limited export. It would have been very easy to take advantage of your position in the trading agreement and exploit your resource, owing to the nature of basic supplies being exchanged in return. And yet, when I read through the treaties that your tribe had set up as the basic parameters of negotiations, they were expertly written, so much so that there is not even the smallest leeway for any unfair exploitation.”
Al-Haitham made a face then, as if the words in his mouth tasted sour when he spoke them out-loud, “That sounds ridiculous when phrased as such, but it's the simple truth. I was, after all, in the meeting where the trade deals were discussed in heavy detail.”
Hera continued to look infinitely amused with the discussion, but Al-Haitham seemed utterly sincere when he said, “Please, feel free to ignore my request if I am overstepping my boundaries, as I know we have just become acquainted, but would it be possible for me to meet with your negotiations officer? As a scholar, I would love to pick their brain."
Like they were all watching a tennis match, all eyes in the room turned back to Hera for her response. Meanwhile, the main emotion the Traveller was feeling after that whole fucking speech that had gushed out of Al-Haitham's mouth was stunned. They had never heard him talk this much and yes, while this was only the second occasion that they were collaborating on, he had still given the impression of a more-results-less-words person.
Paimon leaned in towards the Traveller and whispered, "Is Al-Haitham fanboy-ing?" Not quietly enough to completely escape notice though, as Dehya muffled a laugh into her cup of tea.
"Well-then, you seem to be in luck, because most of those treaties were actually drawn up by myself. As matriarch, it is my responsibility to ensure that my decisions always lead towards the betterment of my people. There was never a scenario where I would have initiated trade negotiations without water tight contingencies."
Al-Haitham had this gleam in his eye, the same one the Traveller had seen in Paimon when she was faced against a well, home-cooked sweet madam, that he was almost disappointed when Cyno finally decided to butt into the quickly escaping conversation, "While I'm sure treaties on trade are very rich and important topics of discussion, am I wrong to assume that we have slightly more urgent matters to handle?" His tone was of course chock full of poorly disguised contempt, directed solely at poor Al-Haitham. The Traveller sadly watched as Al-Haitham very quickly buried whatever part of him had risen to the occasion of that conversation with Hera, once again retreating back behind that cold and unbreakable exterior he more often adorned.
Across the room, Candace pursed her lips. "Before, I was observing your conflict from afar, even prior to the sandstorm." She turned to look at Cyno, then, meeting his intimidating red gaze head on in fearless challenge, "As the guardian of this village, it is my sworn duty to ensure that you pose no threat whatsoever to my village. So please," she smiled, a viper poised in the desert sands, "have an honest and sincere conversation with one another, and put your hostile feelings to rest."
Cyno’s expression gave nothing away, but the Traveller felt even Paimon shiver at the thinly veiled warning in Candace's tone. The tension hung in the air, potent and heavy, before Cyno dispelled it with a slow, languid blink of his eyes. "I have nothing to hide, so there is no shame in explaining myself. The matra don't know my exact whereabouts, but that’s because I have chosen to exile myself."
"Exile yourself?"
"Yes. A little while ago, I discovered that there was data missing in the Akademiya's project planning and development files…"