The Beginning - Part 2

As the boat started to drift off, the fisherman remained watching them. He then took off his worn-out hat and slightly dipped his head.

Mirayah's eyes stayed on the fisherman until his figure got smaller as the boat anchored farther. She spared a glance at the sleeping babe in her arms.

Her limbs were sore and were full of cuts from the running she did earlier. However, now that she stares at her niece, she could not help but feel the warmth of hugging the child of her deceased sister.

"Rabiyah," she whispered in the dark. "Your child is safe now."

As though the baby understood her aunt's words, her eyes slowly opened and she let out a smile. Her plump, rosy cheeks were too adorable to be missed that Mirayah could not help pinching them gently.

The giggles of the newborn erupted amidst the roars of the knights who have successfully driven Sultan Da'ud out of the throne.

"Why did you save her?"

Mirayah almost jumped out of her wits when her mother threw the ale across the room. She immediately hugged the baby in fear of getting hurt from the obvious anger of her mother.

The eldest of their tribe and her mother, Jamila, glared at her before glancing at the little one in her arms. Mirayah felt the need to hide her niece but before she could even do that, Jamila spoke again.

"I will not let that child live here," she muttered with conviction.

Mirayah's heart twisted painfully at the immense wrath that her mother was emanating through her pitch-black irises. With the absence of the moon tonight, the eyes of Agods mirror the darkness of the sky. Not even a glint of light is visible.

"Mother, she is your grandchild," Mirayah pleaded.

"She is but the child of the man who persecuted our kind!" Jamila said, standing up and marching toward her.

Mirayah took a step back in defense. "Mother!"

Jamila heaved a sigh and paused. She stood there looking at the baby as though it could disappear if she continued her scowl.

"Her bloodline came from the ally of that monster," Jamila said, making clear her stance again.

Mirayah worried her teeth along her lower lip. She breathed heavily, her shoulders dropping as melancholy filled the air.

She knew her mother was right, but logic could not get a pass at the emotions that she was wearing in her heart.

Jamila glanced at her daughter's gloomy face. "Return that child to Danaw. She must not stay here."

She turned and started walking away. Mirayah could not help the tears from rolling down her cheeks. Mayhaps it was because of her mother's strong rejection of the child that she did not notice how Jamila's shoulders shook as she sobbed silently.

For the death of her child and the grandchild she outrightly refused.

"Why must you take the difficult path, my Rabiyah," Jamila whispered under her breath, her tears rolling down the sides of her eyes as she lay on her bed.

The night ended with the cries of Jamila and Mirayah.

When the sun showed up for the next day, the house was eerily quiet that even if the other Agods wanted to visit them and take a look at the baby to feed their curiosity, they could not because they were scared that Jamila will punish them. Thus, the Agods continued with their day while sparing glances at the house every time they pass by.

Meanwhile, back in Danaw, the new Sultan was already cleaning up the mess he and his knights created last night.

Sultan Abbas sat on the throne, his eyes scanning the faces of the officials he had brought along to take over the Sultanate of Danaw.

His lips curved a smirk as he thought of the face of the dead Sultan.

"His pledged alliance with Arimaonga did not even save him," he thought.

What a shame.

The knights whom Sultan Da'ud thought were loyal to him had turned their backs on him and joined Sultan Abbas.

"Your Majesty," one of the advisers started. "The knights have betrayed Da'ud. It will be dangerous to let them stay here for they could do the same with Your Majesty."

Sultan Abbas hummed and rhythmically tapped his forefinger on the arm of the throne.

"You are right," he agreed. "However, we could not discount the fact that they are blessed by Arimaonga."

The lined-up men before him glanced at each other. One of them was about to speak up when Sultan Abbas waved his hand dismissively.

"They are valuable in keeping the nation safe and orderly," he said and chuckled. "And they are valuable in locking this throne in my hands."

"But... But Your Majesty," one of the men butted in. "They could turn their backs on you—"

"They can," Sultan Abbas instantly agreed. "But they will not do that if we give them what they want."

The silence after his words was deafening. The men before him were too stunned to even utter a word. The realization was quick to dawn on each of them.

They immediately figured out what the Sultan was saying.

Sultan Abbas sat upright, his eyes spoke of a dangerous glint as he delivered his first order to his men.

"Banish all the Agods from Danaw. Even a shadow shall not enter the country," he dictated. "Kill them if you must."

He knew that the knights who carried the blessings of Arimaonga would be satisfied with his order.

And he knew that even without the alliance with Arimaonga, the beast will not do anything now to throw him out of the throne. For Arimaonga, the only important thing to him was to get back at Hela.

And Agods are the perfect victims of his wrath to Hela... for they bear the blessings of the moon goddess.

Despite the adamant rejection of Mirayah's mother, the baby remained under the roof of the elderly Agod. Mirayah had to return to Danaw to keep her promise to the fisherman. She stayed there until his wife was safe from any infection she might get from giving birth to their child.

Three days later, she journeyed back to the island. The burns on her face and arm were no longer existing as they were healed by the other Agods after that night. The sun was starting to retire when the boat reached the shore of the island.

She waved at the other Agods who were busy with their chores and continued walking toward their house. In a matter of minutes, the sky turned dark and the bright, full moon shed her light on the world.

A faint smile curved on her lips, her eyes twinkling, mirroring the liveliness of the moon.

When she arrived at their house, she pushed the wooden door open only to have her jaw drop at the sight.

Jamila was humming a familiar tune of lullaby as she swayed the baby in her arms.

Mirayah blinked. She could not understand what was happening, but her heart was filled with warmth. A smile broke out on her lips and she called her mother.

Jamila paused and turned to look at her daughter. The lines on the sides of her eyes indicating her old age had smoothened slightly.

Mirayah could not believe it. She stepped closer to her mother and heard the giggles of the baby.

Jamila held the baby out to her. She thought that her mother wanted her to carry the baby, but when she took a glimpse of the baby's eyes, she felt herself freeze.

The baby's eyes sparkled and gave a glint of light similar to the moon's. Mirayah gasped at the dawning realization. She looked at her mother, looking for a confirmation of her speculation.

Jamila nodded. "This child carries the progeny of our ancestors," she said.

Mirayah could hear the wheels in her head. "A pureblood..." she mumbled, her eyes widening as she caught another sparkle of the baby's eyes.

The glimmer was fast but it did not escape the scrutiny of Mirayah and Jamila. It was almost silver. It had the same light that the moon has.

"Inara..." Jamila whispered as she caressed the cheek of the baby.

Mirayah blinked. "Inara?"

Jamila nodded solemnly. "From now on, she will be called Inara."

The baby who has just received her official name gave a laugh and clapped her little hands as though celebrating. Mirayah could not help but grin and so did Jamila.

"Inara..." Jamila whispered her name and the baby smiled at her again.

Mirayah was about to leave the two alone when Jamila called her. She turned around to see that her mother laid Inara's right shoulder bare.

A mark. A golden mark was present on the baby's shoulder.

Mirayah stared hard at the symbol of the Sultanate of Danaw. "Sultan Da'ud must have imprinted that mark of royalty on her," she said.

Jamila nodded. "He did," she muttered. "Inara is the rightful heiress to the Wawa-Ojot. It is the only land that the new Sultan could not get a hold of."

The rich lowland neighboring Kuta Wato and Banga, Mirayah thought to herself.

"But mother..." she tried to talk but could not find the right words.

Jamila who had been staring at Inara lifted her gaze to her daughter and understood immediately the awaiting hardships.

"We must not let any of the men of Arimaonga lay their hands on her," Jamila said. "A pureblooded Arimaongan will be the death of a pureblooded Agod."

"And a pureblooded Agod will be the death of a pureblooded Arimaongan," Mirayah said.

Jamila glanced at the window and stared hard at the bright moon.

"Hela, my goddess... What are you planning to do?" she thought, feeling helpless for her grandchild.

At that same moment, somewhere in the southern part of Danaw, a holler of pride was heard all over the place. The knights and maids knelt on the floor as they gave praises to Arimaonga.

Datu Ismail was holding his child whose eyes were as red as blood.

His lips formed a smirk as he gazed at his firstborn. "Indeed, a pureblooded Arimaongan," he said.