Sister

Baole made a soft cry, pulling sharply on the reins as his horse snorted and trotted to a stop at the edge of a steep precipice. He patted the animal's neck gently, then lifted his gaze to the sprawling canyon below—an endless stretch of rising peaks and dipping valleys under the desert sun. A familiar sight, yet still beautiful. He smiled to himself.

The journey had been easy, even lively. The men had kept spirits high with their endless jokes, and Ravenna, to everyone's surprise, had laughed along so many times she'd lost count.

Baole's horse shifted impatiently beneath him as he waited for the others to catch up. Though he'd ridden faster, he'd held back from his true speed for Dahlia's sake who was secured safely behind him.

As he surveyed the rugged landscape, the others finally came to a halt at his side.

"Whooh!" The men cried out in unison, as though returning home after a long exile.

"We've arrived!" Baole called out joyfully, his voice carrying on the wind. He turned to glance at Ravenna, who sat behind one of the other men. He saw her eyes scanning the vast, jagged horizon, confusion written plainly across her face.

Baole chuckled softly.

"The tribe's not far," he said reassuringly. "Hidden behind those canyons."

"Hidden behind the canyons?" Ravenna repeated, frowning. "I'm seeing more canyons closed together with narrow gorges, spreading over the range; it doesn't seem like it is possible to make a settlement here. How can you say your tribe is behind the canyons?"

Baole laughed outright, catching her bewilderment.

"True enough," he said. "There are more canyons. But there's an area where the desert changes. Where the canyon walls shield a hidden valley—our home. It's not barren like you think. There are rivers, streams... even waterfalls. A little paradise most never find."

Ravenna's brows drew together, her mind spinning.

"I have never known this. Has it always been like that?" she spoke confusingly to herself.

Baole tilted his head. "Like what?"

"Ah…!" Jolting back to her senses. "I mean... the tribe—your tribe," she clarified quickly, stumbling a little over her words. "Has it always lived out here in the desert? Beyond the canyons?"

He scoffed with a short laugh.

"Of course," he said. "Where else would we be?"

Ravenna leaned forward slightly, her curiosity plain. "Since you were a kid?"

Baole looked back at her befuddlement, then burst out laughing. The others joined in.

Ravenna's face flushed but didn't back down.

"What's so funny?" she asked stubbornly.

Still chuckling, Baole scratched the back of his head. "My ancestors settled here generations ago. My parents, their parents, and so on. This is the only region I've ever known my home to always and forever be."

Ravenna inhaled slowly, her mind racing with questions she couldn't yet form. She glanced around, studying the daunting cliffs and ridges.

"There are no openings into the canyon, is there?" she asked, almost suspiciously.

Baole gave her a look of approval, nodding. "Sharp eyes. No, not on the surface. But there's a hidden path down there—one only our people know."

He grinned beneath his bandana and nudged his horse forward into a slow trot.

"Come," he said. "You'll see it for yourself."

The others followed, their horses weaving carefully around the edge of the cliffs as they took a narrow, almost invisible trail into the heart of the canyon.

Their horses moved steadily through the sparse desert trees and hardy plants, weaving through narrow, sunken defiles until they came upon a shallow depression no wider than a few meters.

The depression was just the size of a basin—round and seemed to offer no way around, but Baole pressed forward, guiding his horse toward a thin patch of forest clinging to one side. The others followed without question, their expressions unchanged throughout the journey—only Ravenna's eyes wandered, quietly absorbing the inconspicuous path before them.

No wonder no one has ever found this place and the tribe before, she thought. The paths are almost invisible, too hidden to ever be found.

They continued through the sparse forest, riding a few more kilometers before the trees began to thin out. Emerging into an open stretch, they came to the edge of a small cliff. There, they dismounted and held their horses by the reins.

From their vantage point, a breathtaking sight unfolded: two massive mountains loomed ahead, forming a natural gate. Beyond those towering thresholds lay stretches of fertile land, where settlements nestled amidst vibrant greenery. Waterfalls streamed down the rugged cliffs, and rivers snaked through the lush valley floor. The people moving about the land carried themselves with a sense of ease and prosperity that spoke of a better way of living.

Ravenna's breath caught in her throat as her gaze swept across the sight. Her eyes shimmered slightly with tears she fought to suppress.

This is the tribe...

Standing there, distant memories that were buried flickered behind her eyes like ghosts of the past only she could see. She tightened her jaw, struggling to rein in the emotion that threatened to overwhelm her.

Baole was the last to dismount. Carefully, he lifted Dahlia down from the horse.

As he did, his gaze caught Dahlia's face—the first time he truly looked at her since the night he had found them. In the clear daylight, her ocean-blue eyes struck him, leaving him momentarily stunned. His heart gave a faint, unexpected beat against his chest. He took in a long breath, shook his head sharply, trying to banish whatever strange feeling had stirred inside him.

Then he saw the tears tracing silent paths down her cheeks, and a soft sigh escaped him.

He hadn't known of her condition before. The night he had found them, darkness had already swallowed the land, and there had been no chance for careful observation. It was only the next day, during the ride, that the others had noticed the constant tear tracks glistening against his back. Perplexed, they had turned to Ravenna for answers. But she had merely said Dahlia had an accident and had been that way for sometime now. She had not spoken, barely unconscious—and she, too, had no understanding of the cause. Ravenna had given no mention of the dark space or Hecuba's attempted possession.

Baole looked at Dahlia with a heavy heart. He could still feel the sensation of her small form pressed tightly against his back a little while ago, her arms he had kept wrapped securely around his chest to keep her from falling. The lingering sensation of the warmth produced from her nestle on his back, now thinking of it made his breath come faster, unsettling him more than he cared to admit.

What is wrong with me? He thought, disturbed, trying to hold himself back to rationality. Still all his inner struggle was just met by the blank gaze of a streaming face Dahlia.

Slowly, he reached out and gently brushed the tears from her cheeks. For a moment, they disappeared under his touch—but the instant he lowered his hand, the tears began to fall again, as though he had never touched her at all.

Baole sighed again, retreated and lifted his gaze toward Ravenna, who stood on the low cliff, staring out into the distance where the tribe stretched across the land. He held Dahlia's hand bringing her together with him toward Ravenna's standing spot as his other hand pulled the reins of his horse alongside.

"We should head into the tribe and have Dahlia checked. There's an elder—" he began, but the words caught in his throat as he reached her side and noticed her slightly reddened eyes.

Perplexed, Baole asked, "Are you crying? What's wrong?"

Startled, Ravenna quickly touched her face and turned away in embarrassment.

"No, I'm not!" she denied hastily. "It's probably just the desert dust... and maybe I'm a little sentimental. We just had a lucky rescue." she tried to explain, her voice flustered as she let out a shallow and awry laughter.

Baole nodded absently.

"Hmm. It's been a long ride without rest. We should head inside," he said simply. Without another word, he led the way, in hand with Dahlia as the others to follow.

Ravenna hesitated as she watched them move ahead, a flicker of reluctance crossing her face. She sighed, resigning herself, and hurried to catch up. Reaching Baole, she reached out, trying to take Dahlia from his hands.

Baole said sharply, "Let me lead her. It'll take some of the weight off you."

Ravenna shot him a glance, a silent scoff flashing across her face.

"I'll take her from here," she said coolly. "She's been my responsibility all along, and I've never once complained."

She held her ground firmly, refusing his offer.

Baole's shoulders sagged, and with a reluctant sigh, he surrendered Dahlia's hand. His face flushed with embarrassment, and he gave a dry cough before hastily striding ahead.

Behind him, the other men chuckled under their breath, exchanging amused whispers and sneaking curious glances at the small, fragile figure of Dahlia being led by Ravenna.

Ravenna, however, was in no mood for jokes. Since their arrival, a strange heaviness had settled over her heart. She followed silently as they entered the towering mountain gates.

Baole turned to face them, throwing his arms wide with a proud grin.

"Welcome to the Huli Tribe!" he announced grandly, yanking off the bandana on his face with a flourish. "Outside world called us the tigerline tribe!"

Ravenna's eyes widened at once, and she gasped.

Seeing her reaction, Baole's grin grew even wider, mistaking her reason for being shocked.

"Yes! This is what makes our tribe unique," he said proudly. "We all bear these black lines—not just on our faces, but all over our bodies. That's why we usually stay covered around outsiders."

Around them, the other men pulled off their bandanas too, revealing long, intricate markings snaking down their faces, necks, and beyond.

But Ravenna hadn't been startled by the markings. Not at all.

It was something else entirely that had seized her attention.

She suddenly pointed a sharp, accusing finger at Baole's chin.

"What is that on your chin?" she demanded, her tone scolding, more like an exasperated elder than a guest.

"Eh?" Baole, still basking in pride, blinked and touched his chin—only to feel the thick, unruly beard that spilled almost to his neck.

"This...?" he said with uncertainty. "My beard, of course."

"Your beard…?"

Ravenna's mouth twitched as she stared at the wild patch of hair that made him look rough, older, and frankly, a bit wild. She swung her arm dramatically, pointing at the others one by one.

"Look at him! him! The other three! And you!" she scolded, jabbing her finger back at Baole. "When was the last time you even touched that thing with a blade?!"

Baole stood frozen, stunned by her fierce outburst. He had no idea why a stranger would care so much about how he looked—but oddly, he wasn't offended. Instead, he scratched his head awkwardly, unable to meet her burning gaze.

Around them, the men burst into roaring laughter, clutching their sides as they doubled over with amusement. Baffled, but thoroughly entertained, they watched the strange storm Ravenna had stirred up.

Ravenna's sharp gaze landed on them next, and she snapped.

"And you lot! From the same tribe, yet not a single one of you had the decency to tell him how awful he looks?" she barked. Their laughter died at once, replaced by sheepish muttering and guilty shuffling.

She opened her mouth again, ready to unleash more fury, but caught herself. Grinding her anger down, she turned her piercing focus back to him.

Then, out of nowhere, she said,

"You told me once you had a sister with the same name as mine, didn't you? Well then, by that logic, from the moment I stepped into your tribe, I could be considered the same." Her voice burned with conviction, caught up in her own strange reasoning. "From today onward, I'll be your sister. Older sister, to be clear."

Baole stared at her, mouth hanging open in stunned silence.

What kind of logic is that? Can a sister just... happen like that? And why does it seem like she had been eagerly looking for reasons all along and had just found herself an excuse for one? he thought, bewildered. The others looked no less confused, exchanging baffled glances.

Unbothered by their disbelief, Ravenna barked again, "Well? Hurry up and acknowledge your big sister!"

Baole's mind froze. He looked desperately at the others, but they could only shrug back, just as lost.

Ravenna's expression darkened, her anger crackling in the air.

"What's wrong? You don't want to?" she said coldly, her glare sharp enough to pierce armor.

He was a warrior himself but at this moment, he was truly lost and a little frightened by this proclaimed sister before him. His instinct cried desperately not to defile her in the slightest.

"I—I do..." Baole stammered, a survival instinct kicking in hard.

"Then?" she leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming with sudden expectation.

Blushing furiously, Baole lowered his gaze to the ground and mumbled, "S-sister..."

Ravenna's stern expression finally softened when she heard him. She wanted to pretend as if she had not heard and make him say it once again, but she knew it would be better to give the little boy a face for the man he is. Her heart fluttered, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She couldn't deny it—she loved what she heard. This was what she had always longed for. All the years she had lived in the dark space until now seemed to pale in comparison to this single moment.

She looked at him, her gaze lingering a little longer this time, as if something about his features tugged at the edge of her memory. His slightly raised eyebrows and wide eyes caught her attention, stirring the familiarity within.

Without warning, she stepped forward and gently touched his face.

Baole flinched, instinctively tempted to pull away—but somehow, he didn't. He stayed still, watching as her hands carefully brushed over his skin. The look in her eyes struck him—fierce, protective, and full of a love that reminded him painfully of his mother's gaze.

Ravenna spoke softly.

"You don't look good with that beard. You'll shave it off, won't you?"

"Yes!" Baole nodded immediately, as if under a spell.

"You're not lying to me, are you?"

He shook his head quickly. "No! I'd never lie to you!"

"Then will you do it today?"

"Yes..." he said again without hesitation.

"Good." Ravenna smiled warmly and took Dahlia's small hand, guiding her forward. "Now, let's keep moving. I need rest, and Dahlia needs care."

Without waiting for a reply, she turned and strode into the tribe.

Baole stood frozen for a moment, he would have really thought she was his real sister but he knew it was impossible. The sister he had died those years ago, and this Ravenna that he had brought into their tribe didn't have the mark of the Huli tribe which is the dark lines that stretch across their bodies. He was just dazed on the spot, until one of the men clapped him hard on the back, jolting him from his trance. The others followed, each giving him hearty slaps on the shoulder as they laughed and moved ahead.

He lingered a moment longer, staring after her.

Then, without realizing it, a gentle, almost foolish smile spread across his face. He adjusted the reins in his hand, quickened his pace, and followed after them.