The Tales of Tamil - Uh, Talimor

"Thenk yah." Mia Is sincere, caring. You touch her hand, resting yours on hers. You look into her eyes, her piercing gaze unwavering.

"It's more than that," You continue, "How did I do that? I was so fast. So strong. How?" You squeeze her hand gently, as if hoping to coax a reply out of the young woman. She seems to understand, poking your chest.

"Mesiah." She says. She smiles proudly, as if your success is her own.

"I wonder if that means Messiah?" You ask. "I'm not that... I don't think so."

"Mesiah." Mia repeats, laying her head on your chest.

She really has no concept of boundaries.

Ah well. You lay your hand on her back, hugging her gently. It's not so bad though, having a beautiful woman around to comfort you. Maybe you are becoming a little attached to Mia.

It's a three day journey to the city Tarra told you about. You move more quickly after the incident with the attackers, and Tarra makes it clear that the three of you must be vigilant. At the end of the next day, Tarra and Mia seemed to be over any misgivings they had about you. Even Tarra seems to be treating you with a bit of respect.

Both women assure you that their attackers were unknown to them. You learn the word for 'bandits' and they both reaffirm it multiple times. But Tarra is a better liar than Mia. The small blonde is less confident when you bring up the attack, her eyes unable to meet yours when she says she doesn't know who they were. Your suspicion grows about the two women's origin, but the language barrier continues to make in-depth conversation difficult. It's a barrier you work hard to overcome.

Volvish is quickly becoming a second language for you. Despite only being among them for a few days, You can now communicate concisely with both women. Though you can't hold deeper conversations or explain complex thoughts, simple instructions, questions, and phrases start to feel comfortable for you. You notice a few key primary differences between the languages. Some words simply don't translate well, whereas others could have multiple meanings. Mia is kind enough to show an interest in English, although she learns nowhere near as much of your language as you do hers. Any communication with Tarra is entirely in Volvish, which is fine. You need practice.

As you travel with the women, you press them a bit more about their goals. Though still limited by language, they convey to you that your destination is the capital of Volvsvaer. At least, you think it is, given the name of the city has 'King' in it. You learn that Tarra's employer is a group of several people, and not Mia's family, as you had suspected. There's still something of a communication barrier, and the exact nature of their mission remains a mystery to you.

Doing your best to speak entirely in Volvish, you try to strike up a conversation. "Who pays you?" You ask Tarra one night. The fire has been extinguished. Though far from the road, Tarra insists. The moon has risen for the first time since your arrival, and you're happy to see that it's just one normal moon. Despite the moon's different crater pattern, it feels familiar and comforting. Mia's head is resting on your lap. She's fallen asleep after practicing Volvish with you.

"Powerful people. Boss. (Something)." Tarra replies.

"Friends with Mia?" You ask. The Warrior Woman shakes her head.

"No. They are her (something). Three of them." She says.

"I don't know the last word," You explain, frustrated. Tarra is not as talented with language as Mia. Synonyms are not her strong suit. She shrugs dismissively.

"Powerful people." She dismisses the conversation. On your lap, Mia begins to snore softly, eliciting a smile from Tarra for the first time in a long time.

"It is cute," You say.

"It is," Tarra agrees, hiding her grin. You squint skeptically at the older woman.

"You like her. She's not just a job. Not just a payment. A friend." Tarra's smile drops, and you feel you may have pressed into a topic she's uncomfortable with. The warrior turns her head away, and you notice the scars on her neck, trailing down into her shirt. She thinks for a moment.

"Maybe." She replies.

"Why does she want me with you? In the city." You ask. Tarra thinks for a while, as if deciding what words to use.

"Protection." She replies. You laugh, and Mia shifts a bit in your lap. Both you and Tarra watch quietly to ensure she's asleep.

"How could I possibly protect her?" You ask, skeptical.

"You're very strong." Tarra says confidently. "Defeated the bandits easily. Why didn't you fight me like that?"

"I'm confused. I didn't know I could fight like that." You explain. Tarra is skeptical, shaking her head incredulously.

"(Impossible/ Not done), That kind of fighting takes years of (something). I've never seen anyone move that fast." You don't reply, unsure of how to answer. Tarra is impatient. She stands, walking to your side and gently collecting Mia. In the powerful but gentle arms of the warrior, the young girl does not wake. You watch as Tarra lays her to bed on a roll.

"We'll fight again." Tarra speaks softly as she covers Mia. "A friendly fight." The Warrior Woman clarifies.

"No." You're unconvinced. "Last time you..." You search for the word. "You became angry. Hit the Wagon."

"I won't again," She replies. Once again, Tarra takes a fighting stance, feet spread and arms up for battle.

"Please. For me," She implores. For the second time, you stand to fight Tarra. Sighing deeply, you bring your clenched fists up.

"I don't want to." You repeat.

"One hit," She insists. "To my face. As (quickly/soon) as you can." You reluctantly give in, preparing yourself to taste the dirt again.

"Okay. Yes. I'm coming," You warn her. She nods, bouncing lightly on her feet.

Your shoe digs into the dirt, launching you forward. The gap between you and Tarra closes more quickly than you were prepared for, and you hastily throw a jab between her guard. The quiet night is split by the cracking sound of bone on bone, and her head snaps back with the force of your punch. You catch yourself from falling down, staggering from the sheer force of your attack. As If she has suddenly become very sleepy, Tarra's eyes roll back in their sockets and her lids droop, a split second before she crumples to the ground face first.

You panic.

"Oh no! Tarra!" You yell. Mia startles awake, shrieking. Tarra lies in the dirt, face down, unmoving.

Do you touch her? Flip on her back? Isn't that bad if her neck is damaged?

Mia cries out, similarly unsure.

"What do we do? What happened?" The young girl wrings her hands, kneeling over Tarra.

"I don't know!" You yell back. "I hit her. I'm sorry. Tarra!"

"What?!?" Mia stares at you in horror. "Why?!?"

"She asked me to! I don't know. [What the fuck?!?]" you switch back to English involuntarily.

Before either of you can finish panicking, Tarra snaps up, standing to her feet in a rush. For a couple of seconds, she walks a circle around the two of you, as if she's lost her bearing. Both you and Mia stare at her, confused.

"I'm good." The Warrior Woman assures, shaking her head. "I'm good." Tarra pauses, bending over with her hands on her knees. She opens her mouth and a steady stream of blood and saliva pours out into the dirt. Tarra spits, looking up at you.

"Water. Please." She says. You nod, running to the wagon to fetch a water skin. She accepts the drink from you, swishing a mouthful around before spitting again.

"I'm so sorry. Sorry. I didn't know I could." You struggle to apologize through the language barrier.

"Don't worry about it," The Warrior Woman says, dismissively.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I thought you ...stop me."

"Don't worry about it." She repeats.

"I'm so sorry." Your voice is low and quiet.

"Shut up. (Something)." Tarra glares at you, irritated. "Please shut up." You take a step back.

Unless you're mistaken, you detect a hint of embarrassment.

You silently watch Tarra swish another mouthful of water. She spits a reddish glob into the dirt and stands up. For the first time since meeting the stern woman, she has a hard time looking at you, and moves back to her seat across the ashen firepit. Mia interrupts the silence.

"What happened?" She asks. The young blonde's eyes are wide as she looks between you and Tarra.

"The Mesiah taught me (something)," Tarra explains, still not looking at you.

"I don't know that word. And I'm not Mesiah," You assert. Mia takes a few minutes to explain what Tarra's word meant: humbleness, humility. Tarra is saying you humbled her. You can't help but notice the pride on Mia's face as she teaches you the word.

"I'm going back to bed. Don't beat up my warrior anymore, please." Mia bites her lip a bit, smiling at you. She practically skips back to her bedroll, leaving you confused and Tarra irritated.

"I'll keep watch." Tarra says, staring at the fire intensely. "She probably wants to see you." The fierce warrior spits another bit of saliva and blood. Thinking it best to leave Tarra alone for now, you join Mia in the wagon.

You travel with the women for another two days. Your Volvish improves dramatically, to the point where you're starting to question the speed at which you learn.

Don't most people take months or even years to learn a new language? You chalk it up to a skill you didn't know you had.

You awake to a crisp, cool morning, sharing breakfast with the ladies. As you prepare for the day's journey, Tarra instructs you to ride in the wagon, and stay down. She tells Mia the same thing. When you ask Mia why, she explains that the city is very near.

A subtle smell hits you, and you recoil as it grows more pungent.

"What is that?" You ask.

"It is (something)," Mia replies, "Where the poor people live. No running water. It creates a bad smell."

"Your people have running water?" You're surprised, thinking the Volvish must be far beyond the technology you had credited them. Mia smiles.

"It is a gift from the Mesiah. He taught us cleanliness, and brought us water from the hills with pumps." She tells you.

You can believe a medieval town smelling bad, but if they have access to running water... why?

"Then why doesn't this area have it?" You ask.

"This is where the poor live," Her smile drops a bit. "Mesiah taught that people are poor because they are lazy. We do not help them. They must build their own water pumps."

"Who is this Mesiah?" You ask, curious. Mia becomes grave, shaking her head.

"I cannot say his name," she responds, seriously. "It is too holy."

The road is filled with traffic. On either side of the wagon, you can spot people, pack animals and carriages. Tarra climbs onto the front of the carriage, sitting down to steer the horses from there. She pokes her head back through the canvas covering.

"Stay down for now. We'll be there soon." Next to you in the wagon, Mia is seated with her knees pulled up to her chest, rocking back and forth. She stares to one side, eyes distant. You reach out and touch her shoulder.

"You okay?" You ask.

"Frightened." She replies,nodding.

"To see your boss? Or guardians, or whatever they are." You gently rub her back, trying to comfort her.

"Yes." She replies. You try to think of a calming thing to say, but you hear Tarra speaking outside of the wagon, and try to listen in. Despite your best efforts, some words are still beyond you.

"Officer. I need your attention." She calls someone nearby.

"Tarra?" A man's voice replies. "There's a (something) out for you! I'm going to (something)." You can hear the confidence in Tarra's voice as she replies.

"That would be the worst mistake of your life. I've come back with the Mesiah. He has married (something)." You assume she's referring to Mia, and cringe a bit. The officer is incredulous.

"No way! No (something) way!" You move to peek through the canvas at the speaker, but Mia catches your hand, shaking her head. Tarra instructs the officer.

"I need an escort through the city."

"I don't know..." He starts to object, but Tarra doesn't give him time to think.

"Now, please. His (something) is eager to meet (something). Do not slow him down." The soldier seems to concede to Tarra's strong will, calling orders for your wagon to be surrounded. After a few seconds, Tarra orders the horses onwards, their shod hooves clacking on stone. You can hear the sound of crowds, and the occasional noises of livestock. Tarra pokes her head through the fabric of the wagon again, addressing you.

"Obviously it's best if you don't deny being the Mesiah for now." She advises.

"Yeah, I see that," You're tense and stressed, "I wasn't expecting this much attention coming in. Who is escorting us? Why?"

"City guard. For protection. Look, just... if someone asks if you're the Mesiah..." She winces a bit, "...Lie."

"It won't be a lie." Mia speaks up, resolute and determined. "He really is the Mesiah." Tarra looks at her, bemused at first, but also respectful of the young girl's faith.

"Whatever. Tell the truth that you don't believe." Tarra orders you.

"Fine," You concede. Tarra thinks for a second, and then adds,

"I'm gonna really sell this, Mia. If the common people are onboard, it's our best shot."

"Sell what?" You ask. "Best shot at what?"

Mia nods.

"Thank you Tarra." She says.

"What people? Sell what?" You're irritated. Neither woman answers you, and Tarra exits the wagon.

"Mia, what is going on?" You ask. She smiles at you, half wincing apologetically.

"You've been so trusting. And I've put you at such risk. I wouldn't do this if I didn't think you truly were the Mesiah." She replies. Outside the wagon, You can hear Tarra shouting.

"Make way! The Mesiah is returning! Make way!" As she shouts, sounds arise as if from large crowds of people, subtle at first, but swelling, people outside, large numbers of people, are calling for the Mesiah. Your heart races as a hymn starts in the crowd outside, praising the Mesiah.

"Mia..." you've left irritated behind. You're terrified now. The scope of this adventure has gone beyond what you'd imagined it ever would. Mia grabs your hand with both of hers, rubbing them affectionately.

"You can do this," She reassures you.

"No." You've had enough. She frowns. "No, you tell me what the hell is going on right now, or I'm done!" You raise your voice. She stops rubbing your hands, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She is ridden with guilt, and her face twists with the pain of it.

"I... I'm sorry. We... I felt like we had to keep it secret. Or you wouldn't go with us." She says.

"Probably not!" You retort, having to raise your voice over the growing sounds of the crowd outside the wagon. She's silent for a second, thinking. Losing your patience, You shout at her.

"Mia! Explain. Now." You're stern and angry, but you feel justified. She nods, struggling to keep it together as she starts to explain.

"I am... I'm (something), It means I'm set apart for the Mesiah. I was chosen to wed him. You." She points at your chest, as if convincing herself you really are this 'Mesiah'.

"It was prophesied that the Mesiah would one day return to claim his throne. And when he returned, he would want a virgin to be offered as his queen," As she speaks, your stomach twists, recoiling in disgust at her explanation.

"If the Mesiah didn't come to claim his throne, didn't claim his queen, then she would be sent to him." She is crying openly now, tears falling down her face. "Please don't hate me. My time was up. I had to marry the Mesiah, or they would have..." Mia hesitates, choking for a second. She coughs.

"They would have killed me. A few days before we found you, we fled the palace. They would have killed me if we stayed. Tarra wanted to keep going, to run away forever, but I wouldn't go. We knew we were being hunted, but I convinced Tarra to stop by the Mesiah's holy place to pray. That's where you appeared to me, a miracle!" Her countenance glows with joy, slowly fading back to a sad guilt.

"The marriage... I had no choice. I asked Tarra to force you. I had to marry you. It was my last and only hope." She finishes. You sit back, shocked. You're struggling to take in everything she's said. Outside the wagon, most of the crowd have synced up in their hymn, openly declaring their love for the Mesiah, and their eagerness for his return.

"I... don't hate you." You say. Mia lays back against the wall of the wagon, running her hands through her hair. Shaking your head, you continue.

"You didn't have a choice. I might have done the same thing." You reach out to comfort her. Her hands tremble as you grab them softly, looking her in the eye. "I don't hate you." You reiterate.

"I'm so sorry," She sobs, laying on your chest. You wrap your arms around her, hugging the young woman gently.

So, you've got to bluff. Convince anyone and everyone that you really are the Mesiah, because if you aren't... they'll kill Mia.

"Who's idea was this? How often do they send women 'to the Mesiah'?" You're suddenly angry at this absurd prophecy that gets young women killed.

"The Mesiah ordered it. He had many wives and concubines. Since he left us, our people have offered one virgin every four years." Mia explains.

You cringe in disgust. What a tragedy. A human being, murdered every four years, and Mia was next.

"The Mesiah sounds like a dick," You almost want to spit.

"I don't know what that word means," Mia says.

"It's... a crude name for a bad person." You explain. The young woman sits up, agitated.

"No he is not! He's the Mesiah. His very nature is good!" She exclaims. Her eyebrows are wrinkled as she scowls at you. It's the first time Mia's been upset with you. "I would have gladly gone to see him in the afterlife. I would have been honored to become his wife!" She asserts proudly. You scoff, upsetting her more.

"Yet we had a shotgun wedding, one day after meeting each other, so you could avoid that," You say. She frowns angrily.

"I don't know what a shut-gon wedding is." She says.

The wagon stops, and Tarra comes to the rear of the wagon.

"Are you two ready?" She asks. Mia recovers her composure, nodding. Tarra looks at you. The keen warrior can tell you're not on board with the current events.

"Hey remember, if you (something) this up, they'll likely kill all three of us." Your stomach twists with fear.

All three of you? Of course they wouldn't just kill Mia alone.

Tarra pulls the wagon's fabric aside, gesturing for you to exit. You hesitate, and Mia nudges you gently. Fear and anger wash over you.

"I still think this 'Mesiah' guy is a dick," You whisper to Mia.

Climbing out of the back of the wagon, you find yourself in a massive, open promenade. The sound of chanting crowds has disappeared far behind you. The bricks of the road before you are silent. Ahead of you lies a palace, an elegant structure with many floors, dark and gabled. The large building reminds you of the photos you've seen of the Versailles in France, with intricate designs atop a brick building, each face covered with windows.

Two rows of men flank either side of the road, easily twenty per side. They seem to be soldiers or guards of some kind, wearing white metal armor that absolutely shines in the sun.

At the end of the rows of soldiers stands a seventy foot tall statue of... you.

Only it's not you. You're shocked for a second, but after studying the face, reality hits you.

It's a younger version of your Uncle Dave.

Involuntarily, you exclaim in English.

"[...Son of a bitch.]"

Mia steps out of the carriage behind you, lowering herself to the ground.

"What did you say?" She whispers, standing next to you.

"I'll tell you later. Not here." You stand still, facing the open promenade and the palace behind it. "Do we walk?" You ask. Tarra steps up, leading you.