Hi All,
I've been trying to rewrite this chapter but it just doesn't feel right.
It's still fairly near the beginning of the book and at this point it's an aside to the main narrative so should stand alone (ish).
Would appreciate any feedback/ideas!
Thanks
Tanvi had been crying.
She was packing a bag.
All she had wanted was to climb the ranks to become a respected gemologist. That had been her lifelong dream.
And now she’d been selected to travel away, to act as a spy? Why? The First had cited her excellent academic achievements, and her meticulous record. But surely he had people for this? People much more highly qualified?
Ah, but a converted soldier wouldn’t garner as much trust, as much pity, as an innocent-looking young academic such as herself. Besides, this was an honour. And she’d been advised to consider it as such.
Advised.
Or else, was the subtext.
She’d just placed the last carefully folded tunic into her bag when there was a tentative knock on the door.
“Yes?” She called, not really sure she wanted to talk to anyone at the moment. She looked up just as he father’s head appeared from behind the door. One look at her face and his took an even deeper tone of remorse.
“Tanvi…” he started, but trailed off, no words able to articulate what he wanted to say. Instead he simply looked at her, and opened his arms. In an instant, her composure collapsed, and she rushed into her father’s embrace. She leant her head against his chest, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calm her frayed nerves.
“Father, I’m scared,” she said eventually. She stayed within the safety of his arms, taking comfort in his presence.
“I know,” he said, and his voice was laden with sadness. Finally looking up, Tanvi met his eyes, dark and full of anguish and conflict. “I never meant this for you,” he said, “I only ever wanted the best for you, to support you to succeed as I knew you would. This was meant to be my fight. Words cannot express the grief in me that you have become a part of this.” His head hung low, and Tanvi saw the deep consternation carving furrows in her father’s face. Ever the practical, pragmatist, she’d never seen him this pained. He could always reason his way through many problem.
“Father, what’s wrong?” She asked, alarmed. “What are you talking about?” He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, her father moved away from her, gave himself room to think, to consider his words. He gazed at the floor, out the window, anywhere but the eyes of the innocent daughter who was now ensnared in a wheel he’d set in motion years before. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself to explain.
“A long time ago,” he began, “I realised that our government was not being honest with us.”
“So?” Tanvi asked, confused. “It’s politics. I didn’t think anyone was ever honest.”
Her father wry smile was flat, and didn’t reach his eyes.
“It’s more than that. Perhaps they even believe it themselves. But the Nāga Memora have not been entirely truthful about their ‘purpose’ for a long time.” He sighed. “What do you know about the Great War?” He asked. Tanvi started. What did the Great War have anything to do with this? But she obliged.
“The first Nāga went to war with Garuda over a quarrel between their sister-mothers. Vinata, mother of Garuda, was rash and careless, and brought harm to her children through neglect. Our Mother-Goddess, Kadru, imprisoned Vinata for the safety of her own children, but Garuda would not heed the wisdom of his aunt. He fought to free Vinata, and the first Nāga, children of Kadru, defended their Mother. Garuda, vowed to kill his cousins for defying him. Eventually he was banished, and the Nāga sought safety and refuge here in Patala. The Nāga killed by Garuda were buried here, beneath the Rasta Spire, and our great nation was built around their resting place, so that we might never forget their sacrifice.” Tanvi concluded her summary. “Did I miss anything?”
Her father shook his head.
“No,” he said, “that is the story we all know. And it is the story the Nāga Memora would have us never forget. They would have us believe that Garuda simply bides his time, that he will one day swoop down upon us and smite us all out of an ancient spite.”
“Is that not true?” She asked.
“There is truth to it,” her father allowed, cocking his head to one side, “but like the version of Garuda in the story, it has been twisted and poisoned to fit the needs of the Nāga Memora. I don’t think the Great War went quite like that, but accounts are sparse and varied. I do have reason to believe that Garuda wasn’t banished, and doesn’t seek to end us all. Rather, a peace was brokered, and the war was ended amicably on both sides. However, like all decisions of such magnitude, there are always those who don’t fully adhere to the majority ruling. And it was from these, that the Nāga Memora were born.
“Generations ago, the Nāga lived peaceably in the wake of the Great War. We had a democratic political system, trade was good, we even had magic.”
“Magic?” Tanvi breathed, caught up in the story. Her father nodded.
“Yes, we were a vibrant people back then. But over time, a small group, holding onto spite and hatred, gathered followers. This group vowed never to forget the Great War, and to prepare against the day Garuda would inevitably return to finish the task he was prevented from fulfilling in the War. They twisted truths, and sowed fear into the population. They gathered strength generation after generation until they were strong enough to reform the system to meet their own needs, and further their own gains.”
“What had any of this got to do with the First sending me to Sumeru?” Tanvi asked, still confused as to why her father thought any of this was his fault. Her father sighed, and ran a hand through his short, almost-white hair.
“I was a historian before my work in the administration. And as I began to piece together the holes in the story the Nāga Memora weaves, I dug deeper. I employed… unconventional methods to locate authentic accounts. I learnt secrets our government would undoubtedly kill to keep buried. And when I eventually became sure of the truth…” he tapered off. He sat on the edge of Tanvi’s bed, beside her packed bag. Glancing at it, his face folded once more in distress. He looked up at his daughter, his dark eyes gleaming in the flickering candlelight. “I never imagined anything I did would have any effect on you,” he said, his voice leaden with regret.
“Father,” Tanvi folded herself onto the floor in front of his, taking his hands in her own. “What did you do?”
Her father drew a shaky breath.
“I reached out to Sumeru,” he held up a hand when Tanvi opened her mouth to interject, “how is not important. The important part is that I sought aid from those our government would have us believe are enemies. I knew I was endangering myself. But I did it with dreams of a better future for you. I didn’t think,” he spat, “I didn’t think how the First would retaliate if he ever found out. But I was so careful. No one should have known.”
Tanvi’s hands were shaking, and her eyes blurred with tears.
“What does this have to do with me?” She asked. Conspiracies and rebellions. She was just the kind of girl who studied hard and got good grades. How was she even remotely a part of this?
“It’s all my fault,” he father’s voice broke, “it’s a message. By putting you in danger, the First is answering my defiance. He’s reminding me he holds all the cards.”
“Ok,” she finally said, after a moment of tense silence. She made no moves towards him, not sure she could trust herself. She was a torrent of emotions already; she had no idea how she would hold up if she tried to soothe her father’s as well. None of what he had told her so far had eased any of her trepidation of the journey to come. Sumeru was said to be crawling with beasts and monsters, an unnavigable warren of forests and caves. The government occasionally sent out expeditions to keep a watch on their enemy.
Not all of them came back.
Bile rose in her throat at the thought of getting lost in those forests. Chills rippled over her skin.
A wild thought came to her.
“You could come with me,” she said abruptly. Her father’s head snapped up. “You and mother. If we go now, we could leave and never come back.” Patala was a cruel, harsh place. They would miss nothing by leaving it behind.
“What?” His eyes searched hers, and she was sure he saw the wildfire burning in them. But instead of leaping up and planning their family escape with her, her father shook his head. “No, Tanvi. I must stay. There are others I must inform. If the First has caught wind of my own dissent, there may be others in danger too. I cannot leave.”
“Others -” Tanvi was having trouble keeping up with her father’s private rebellion. But now it seemed as though there were more involved.
“Listen Tanvi,” he gripped her shoulders, and his eyes held hers with conviction, “you must go, as ordered. You’ll be safe in Sumeru, I’m sure of it. The First doesn’t believe that, which is why he’s sending you, but I do.”
Tanvi’s breath hitched at the idea of going alone into enemy territory.
“They are not our enemies,” her father whispered, as it reading her thoughts.
“As far as the First is concerned, you’re to go to Sumeru to gain their trust, and bring back intelligence. Be his spy. He must believe that you believe that’s the purpose of all this, no matter what his true motive is. I have no doubt he has one. Once you’re there, find Garuda. Yes, I know you’ve been taught to believe he’s dangerous. Find him, and beg him for help. It’s not enough for Sumeru to be a sanctuary for our kind to run away to. It’s past time Patala became a safe haven for us all too, and we need their help to do that.”
Everything her father was saying became a whirlwind in her head, not all of it making sense. A sanctuary? Wasn’t Sumeru a dangerous land full of hideous, savage creatures, from which she’d always been taught she would never survive?
“How do you know Sumeru is safer than here?” She whispered, giving voice to her biggest fear. Her father hesitated.
“Trust me.” The fire in his eyes, the steadiness of his gaze - there was no denying her father’s belief.
Shaking, Tanvi nodded. How was she supposed to process all this? She was due to set out in the morning. There was so little time!
Her father kissed her lightly on each cheek and released her, holding his arms tightly to his side instead. He cleared his throat, and managed to force a warm smile past his inner disarray. He cleared his throat.
“Ahem - your mother sent me to find you for dinner. She’s made your favourite.” And with that, he ducked out from the room, pulling the door to.
Tanvi waited for the door to click shut before letting the tears fall silently down her face. She didn’t have the words. She didn’t have any way of dealing with any of this.
She just wanted to work with gems.
But now, it transpired that her father had been conspiring against their government for years. That all she knew was not at all what it seemed. And now she had to travel to unknown territory, to be a double agent? For the very enemy her people were taught to hate since they were old enough to understand the meaning of fear? Someone she knew nothing about?
She breathed through the hysteria bubbling up her throat and choked back a sob. Clamping her hands over her mouth to muffle the noise, she sucked down a breath. And another. Eventually she was composed enough to lower her hands, straightening and smoothing her skirts in the mirror, finding comfort in the small, mundane actions. She willed herself to consider her position logically.
Either way, I’m going to Sumeru, she thought, lower lip trembling, I can work out the rest once I’m there.
She drew in a shuddering breath, attempting to calm the panic within.
Her parents had always encouraged her to think for herself. Analyse a situation. Hold her own counsel. Consider her options. This would be no different.
Ok, it would be very different. But the principles remained the same.
She quickly rechecked the contents of her bag for the third time to ensure she hadn’t forgotten anything, and to still her turbulent mind. After scrutinising her face in the mirror for signs of tears, she deemed herself suitable for dinner, and made her way to the dining room for her final meal in the comfort of her own home, and the company of family.
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