TurkeyxReader~The Legend of Citaqua~Ch 10

~The Legend of Citaqua~ Ch 10

Heracles let out a long yawn that couldn’t have been more different than those of the cats that he so often attracted. Neoklis, on the other hand, was slightly more alert than his cat-keeping counterpart. You happened to be wedged in between them in a stand or even a vendor of sorts. Had it not been for the fact that this was some type of contest, you would have thought that the sand rats were putting the three of you up for a live sale.

News of the cook-off spread like wildfire among the streets of Issao. Apparently it was something that only pertained to the water-rich city as an entire market district cleared the streets and fenced off an area just for the event. The sand rats of the Aral and the Pinta both stood off against each other from opposite sides of the street, and in the middle were none other than the judges: Heracles, Neoklis, and you.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” you asked leaning over to Neoklis. Being as that Heracles, himself, had never left his home in Arbren, you had to assume that the original cat-keeper had picked up a thing or two about these cook-off customs that went on in Issao.

“It’s a matter of life and death,” Neoklis put it rather bluntly.

You batted your eyelashes a few times. “I’m sorry, I could have sworn you were saying something about life and death. If not, that wasn’t a very funny joke, Neoklis.”

“You’re right. It was a joke.”

He didn’t even deny it! you thought, feeling a little shocked.

“The rules basically apply as any friendly competition between chefs,” Neoklis explained. “The two sides will compete for who will have the best food. Whichever side produces the best-tasting dishes—as determined by us—then that side will claim the wagered prized. In that case, it would be custody of us.” He twirled his long side bang with his index finger. “The judges and prizes normally wouldn’t fall under this kind of circumstance, but I think anyone else would call it biased.”

You made a face. “Excuse me?”

“If you think about it, if they chose any of their men, regardless of the skill level, a crewmember from the Aral will think Sadık has the best dishes and vice versa. I wouldn’t think that any captain would want the fate of their prizes to be left in the taste palette of a local so they simply decided to choose us. It’s as simple as that.”

“Well, yeah, but as I mentioned before, we’re basically choosing which side we want to remained captured by.” On that note, you turned back to Heracles who looked as if he would pass out from the heat at any given moment. “If you ask me, I think it’s pretty ridiculous. I’d rather we not be given up to either side. I just want to go home—wherever that may be.”

“You know that’s not possible given that you are a key part to finding Citaqua,” Neoklis reminded you.

I hate being told that over and over again, you thought, making incoherent grumbling noises behind your tucked-in knees.

“But wait…” you suddenly spoke up. “Why are they choosing to do a cook-off? Why didn’t they just deck it out with their swords when they caught us?”

“They technically could, but the laws in Issao are stricter seeing as how the locals here can afford to enforce such things,” the cat-keeper answered. “If a fight started, there would be blood shed—that is, after both captains would have run out of insults to throw at one another. When that would happen, the officials would have marked their sandships as banned, and from there, any merchants would be forbidden to trade with the crewmembers of the marked sandship.”

“So in a way, it’s illegal, but how would they know about who belongs to which sandship?” you asked.

“Eh…word gets around.”

That’s a pretty vague answer. Nevertheless, you decided to accept it as it was and focus on the cook-off.

“_____________, you are supposed to provide the water for the competition, right?” Heracles asked.

“Hmm? Yeah, you’re right,” you nodded recalling Antonio mentioning something about providing water for the pasta dishes.

“Hey, Neoklis,” you said looking at the other cat-keeper, “do you think Sadık wants me to provide water, too?”

Neoklis shrugged. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him in the actual kitchen. He did do a lot of the cooking when I was back on the Aral. I doubt he’s lost his touch.” He cracked a smile. “This will be one interesting cook-off.”

-----

After the preparations were made, you and the other “prizes” had been placed in a separate tent surrounded by opposing members of both sandships. A large pile of sand had been provided right outside the entrance flap, and an assembly line of crewmembers with jars had been positioned to get sand to you and water out as quickly as possible.

“It beats having to run all the way to the well to fetch it,” someone had said.

Why me? you miserably wondered as you recited the spell over and over again. It wasn’t like you could even watch what was going on. There were smells and the constant shouting going on, but you couldn’t see anything while you were cooped up like pigs to slaughter.

“The main reason you are kept here like this is because they don’t want the locals knowing you have this power,” Tunç had said pointing to your stone. Unlike his brother who was hard at work outside doing…whatever he was doing, he had decided to monitor your progress at a close proximity.

Suddenly, a pair of footsteps could be heard approaching the enclosed tent, and a familiar face popped his head inside.

“Alright, you three, we’re ready for the judging!” Sadık barked. He wore an expression only men ready for battle would wear; it was wild and untamed yet alert with ferocity and a primitive power.

…But that was where the problem was. Instead of looking like he had finished a battle, Sadık looked like he was going into one.

Feeling nervous, you leaved over to Tunç who was also following the “prizes” out to the street.

“Tunç, why do I have a bad feeling about this?” you whispered.

“Because it’s a cook-off.”

“Yeah, but what makes it what it is?”

“It’s a cook-off in Issao.”

Upon reaching the podium where the judges/prizes were going to be situated, you realized that what had been going on while the three of you were inside the tent wasn’t the actual cooking at all—they had only been the preparations.

Your mouth dropped. “What the heck…?”

There were plates after plates of ingredients fit for only the richest of the richest and fit for as royal as any royalty could ever hope to see. Leaning on the walls were weapons: scabbards, scimitars, swords, knives, and daggers. In the center of all of this was a tall boxed-in fortress with all the cooking equipment any aspiring chef could only dream of owning. Whatever this cook-off was going to be, it was anything but normal.

“This is a cook-off?” you asked in a wavering voice to Tunç and Neoklis.

“This is a cook-off,” they repeated.

You looked back at the street that had now been turned into a literal battleground of the foods. Suddenly, Neoklis’ joke didn’t seem like a joke at all anymore.

“This cook-off will be held between the sand rats of the Aral and the sand rats of the Pinta!” an announcer said in front of the judge/prize box. “We have a special arrangement here today as the judges of today’s intense competition are not only going to judge how well each team performs in todays challenges, but they are also the prizes for this cook-off! That’s right! You heard me correctly, everyone! The judges will be determining whom they will be forfeiting their own lives to! How twisted is that?!”

“It’s pretty twisted,” you mumbled into Heracles’ ear. Your friend agreed.

“Captain of the Aral, Sadık Adnan, will be up against Antonio Carriedo, captain of the Pinta!” the announcer said. “It will be a battle of the foods! A food fight of the best-tasting dishes!”

The crowd composed of locals, sand rats, and merchants erupted into a heated cheer. In a matter of minutes, a large arsenal of ingredients had made their way across into the center area and with them, a handful of sand rats from both sides.

“Hey, Gupta’s there,” you said pointing to a familiar face all the way in the back. “Is it safe for him to be there? It looks like these guys are ready to kill…”

“Not to worry, ______________,” Tunç said. “My brother will protect him.”

You rolled your eyes. This was a waste of time. Never mind having to judge this thing, you were sure Citaqua was something that shouldn’t have had to wait; after all, desertification didn’t.

“Heracles,” you whispered to your friend, “I have an idea. Do you remember how at the top of the street, they had a large haul of sand?”

“______________...” Heracles said you name in a borderline scolding voice.

“Listen to me!” you hissed. “Whatever this thing is, it’s got people completely distracted. This might just be our chance! We can get to the top of the street and wipe away any of the followers with my spell.”

“…And what would we do from here?” Heracles asked. “Do you have any idea how we’re going to survive until they stop chasing us?”

“I…” You shook your head. “I haven’t thought it out that far yet, but I’m tired of being held by these people. I’m sick of traveling on the Sandsea. I just…I just want to go home.”

“____________, you know as much as I do that it’s not possible.”

“So you think staying with these murders is any better?”

“No, but I have every reason to believe that Citaqua might be real.”

You sighed and looked back at the arena that was starting to fill with weapons and ingredients, swords and chains alongside pots and pans.

“Not you, too…”

“Let the cook-off begin!”

Goooonnnnng!

And just like that, the sand rats were off. On opposite sides of each team lay a series of stoves and ingredients. On the side opposite from Sadık’s party, you noticed several spices used in the dishes aboard the Aral. The same could be said with the Pinta given that you had often eaten dishes with pasta and tomatoes in them.

So they have to fight their way across to their own work stations you noted. Pretty messed up though not as messed up as I thought.

As you had expected, the sand rats were fighting tooth and nail to get to the other side. It was all very strange given that it could have been no better than fighting on the streets—save for the fact that their ships would have been banned from trading with the merchants.

Had this not been a matter of choosing who you wanted to remained held hostage by, you would have thought it was amusing watching the sand rats, in their rugged and tough glory, fighting for the rights to food.

Antonio was able to hold his own remarkably well despite knowing how much of an airhead he had often been on his own ship. His swordsmanship was nothing to take lightly as he got away from several narrow situations and nicked a few of Sadık’s men without any obvious effort.

Sadık, on the other hand, was plain ruthless. Instead of relying on skill, he relied mainly on power. He was cutting through sand rats left and right even having the time to throw in the occasional insult here and there.

“What’s wrong, Carrideo?!” he laughed. “Afraid you’re going to lose to me again?!”

“You wish!” Antonio growled. “______________’s going to be mine! Just you wait!”

“I can’t watch…” you groaned.  

“______________, if you look closely, the weapons are fake,” Neoklis said.

“Say what?”

“Look.” Neoklis pointed to the battleground. Now that he had mentioned it, there weren’t any visible signs of blood. If anything, the only red you were able to visibly see was some of the Aral’s sand rats chucking tomatoes at the Pinta’s men.

“Huh. So it’s not life-threatening…” you mumbled. “But why the fighting, then?”

“The cook-off’s an excuse to vent out any hatred,” Tunç explained, rolling his eyes as though he had gotten tired of having to explain himself. “Most of the popularity comes from the food, but it’s fun to watch people who hate each other fighting every once in a while.”

“Ah…”

By now, a collective handful of men had reached the others sides of the arena to where their ingredients and cooking tools lay. Once they got there, they began to cut feverishly at the vegetables and boil water like there was no tomorrow. Antonio and Sadık were shouting orders to the ones who had made it—even Gupta had gotten to the other side. You noticed Lovino and Feliciano were also well under way with cooking pasta.

“It’s kinda fun to watch, don’t you think?” Heracles asked keeping his eyes focused on the arena.

“Somewhat…” you admitted.

At long last, both sides had dissipated with everyone making it to their rightful sides. Along the way, Tunç and Neoklis had taken turns explaining that after preparing the bases of their ingredients, they would have to use the spices and condiments from the opposing side’s tables. It was not only a challenge of skill in combat but a challenge of putting culinary skills to the test.

Sadık’s food with Antonio’s spices? I wonder how that’s going to taste—No! What am I saying?!

You nudged Heracles’ elbow.

“Heracles…” you whispered.

“Yeah?” he responded.

“It’s time.”

This was as good as it got. The cook-off was at the peak of its intensity with the crowd even placing bets on who would win. Tunç and Neoklis were also watching intently, and with the majority of the crewmembers participating in the arena, there would be little to no chance that anyone that posed a threat would try to stop you.

“You’re really going to do this?” Heracles murmured.

“It’s now or never.” You placed your hand over his. “Please, Heracles, we’ve gotten this far together. I can’t do this without you.”

Your friend stared into your eyes for what felt like the longest time; it was like he was trying to detect any sign of weakness, any sign that you might have hesitated about making this decision. If you did escape, Neoklis and Tunç would find out almost right away. From there, both sides of the sand rats would have been hot on your trail, but you knew they wouldn’t do anything to you. You were far too precious to them. Heracles, on the other hand…that was where you would have to be careful.

“Alright, then,” he nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Apparently with you and Heracles being part of the prizes as well as being the judges, the security on your podium wasn’t exactly light. This would have been a problem.

“How are we gong to do this…?” you thought aloud as you and Heracles waited for the right window of opportunity.

“_______________...” Heracles whispered. “I have something that might help us.”

“What?” you asked.

“This.”

When Heracles reached his hand out of his pocket, you eyes grew into large orbs.

“Heracles, where did you get this?” you hissed.

“I took it when no one was looking...?”

“That’s impossible. I don’t remember you being close to the Pinta crew,” you said.

“_______________, it’s now or never, right?”

“I— ” You sighed. “Right. This is perfect. We can go now.”

It wasn’t too long after you and Heracles made your escape that you heard the noise of an angry mob making its way down the streets. Both Aral and Pinta crewmembers alike were going after you, angered that you would have the audacity to run away from the cook-off after all of the preparations the city made.

“Shoot, Heracles!” you gasped. “They’re coming!”

“That’s not the worst of our problems.”

“What?”

You looked down at your hands. They were visible. The spell had worn off.

“This is…no! That stone was supposed to have the power to cover a whole ship for days! Why isn’t it working for us?”

The two of you were completely visible now. While the stone Heracles had apparently stolen from the Pinta had been useful in aiding your escape, it had failed to produce the long-term results you had witness while you had been in Antonio’s custody.

“Then we resort back to my initial plan!” you panted as you and your friend continued to run.

“You know where the sand is?”

“I took you down the path to the sand just in case,” you smirked. “Good thing I did, huh?”

“Maybe…”

“_________________, you brat! I’m going to skin that cat-friend of yours alive!” you heard Sadık bark.

“Dammit!” you gasped. “It’s Sadık!”

“Give back our stone, you thieves!”

“Toni, too!”

You didn’t dare look back. The sounds of their voices alone had told you how furious they were with you up and leaving like that. You couldn’t afford to make any mistakes here. They were hot on your trail, and the spell would take a while to recite once you reached the sand.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” Heracles pointed to the top of the street to where a large pile of sand lay.

“Yeah!”

“_____________, you’d better work fast,” your friend wheezed as you placed your hand on your stone.

“I’m trying!” you hissed and began to recite your spell. You could see the sand rats coming up the hill too far away to realize what you were doing. However, the words weren’t coming to you fast enough; they only came as evenly as they pleased. This wasn’t something that could be taken and memorized. They came inside you. All the same, this was not a good time to be coming at a snail’s pace.

“_______________...”

You wanted to tell Heracles that you were trying, but you were too busy reciting you spell. He didn’t need to tell you to hurry. You could hear them. You could hear Sadık raining curses on your soul and Antonio shouting about his stone. They were coming closer. The mob was growing louder.

Come on...Come ON!

“______________...!”

Just a little more, you thought. Just a little more, and we’ll be fine!

“Don’t let her finish that spell!” Sadık’s order cut through the yelling. He had noticed what you were trying to do, but that didn’t stop him from continuing up the street. What a stubborn man…

“_____________!”

“Done!” you shouted and pulled Heracles out of the way just in time to see the sand melt into water and wash down the street like a massive flood. This had been the first time you had conjured up so much water. It was unlike anything you had ever seen. What had been valued as the most precious resource in all of Sandsea was now a deadly force that was sweeping all of the sand rats back down the street and far away like grains of sand being blown away in the wind. You wanted to feel sorry for them until you reminded yourself of what they had put you through and what they had done to your friends and family. They didn’t deserve your pity.

“Come on, Heracles,” you breathed. “Let’s get out of here before the officials find us.”

-----

It had taken some time, but eventually, the two of you had found a decent shelter far away from the main city. You had come across a little shed that looked like it had been abandoned for a long time. Dust lay everywhere, and the grounds were littered with fine piles of stray sand that had blown in from the desert winds without any trace of someone bothering to tidy the place up.

“I kind of wish we could have waited until the cook-off was finished before trying to escape,” Heracles grumbled. You heard his stomach growl. Yours did the same.

“Yeah…” you sighed. “But I don’t think we would have had a chance if we waited until then.”

Heracles looked outside of the shed’s flap.

“It’s getting dark,” he said. “You think they’re still looking for us?”

You scoffed. “Psh, knowing how stubborn that Sadık is, I think he’ll continue to look for me until he expires.” You kicked some of the sand away from your feet. “Is Citaqua really all that? Heracles, what’s your take on the legends?”

Your friend said nothing. Now that you thought about it, you had never gotten a chance to get enough time alone with him to talk like this. Back when Gupta had mentioned Heracles’ role in all of this, you hadn’t found the time to tell him about what they had intended to do with him.

“Souls, their hue of the lost wonders…” you murmured.

“What?” Heracles spoke up.

“It was a verse in the song—er, the legend of Citaqua.” You stared into Heracles eyes. “You know, they said the eyes are the windows to the soul. Your eyes are practically green and a mix of things in between. You think the lost wonders the legend was talking about was, I dunno, plants or something?”

“Could be.”

“Hmm.”

“I know Citaqua is out there,” Heracles said in response to your previous question.

You perked your ears up. “Oh, so you believe the legend?”

He shook his head. “No. I know it exists. It’s not a legend.”

You flopped your arms to your sides. “Because I exist—is that what you’re going to say?”

“Compared to the evidence, it’s only partially true. You are part of the legend. I, however…” He paused. “_______________, I should have told you earlier. I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What are you talking about? What haven’t you been honest about?”

“About who I am,” Heracles said. “You know, just about why I’m here in general.”

“Okay…And what about this thing about knowing Citaqua is real? Where’s that coming from?”

Heracles pulled out the green stone that he had taken from the Pinta’s crew a few hours ago.

“You see this thing?” he asked. “This one is the real one. This isn’t theirs. It’s mine.”

You shrugged. “Well, I mean, you stole it from them so…I guess…yeah.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Heracles said. “I mean that this. Is. Mine. As in I have rightful ownership to it.”

Now he was just being ridiculous.

“Says who?”

“Said my mother.”