Chapter 16: 16. Turn Around.

Uncle Zurak took the sheep and entered a modestly lit area where he housed a variety of animals. Safiya quietly trailed along, her eyes immediately drawn to the single lamb that emitted a soft, radiant glow within the darkness. The hut was filled with a mix of animals, including horses, dogs, sheep, fowls, and more.

"Your father was a brave warrior. He died trying to save this land, the wonderful people of Dakar," Uncle Zurak said solemnly, as he placed the animal in a small stall to let it rest.

Safiya rolled her eyes,"You don't believe that too, do you?"

Uncle Zurak sighed, feeling the weight of Safiya's skepticism. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before responding,

"Safiya," Uncle Zurak turned to face her, noticing the frustration in her voice as she stood behind him with folded hands.

"Have you ever wondered why he went that day and was the only one who didn't return? Why is that so? And the king, King Adonna, do you think he has something to do with this? And why did he never do anything or say anything to us, not even to compensate us?"

Safiya watched her uncle closely, taking note of the striking resemblance he had to her father. However, her father was taller, with a more pointed nose and a piercing gaze. She could still picture his face vividly in her mind. In contrast, Uncle Zurak possessed a gentle and kind demeanor.

"I do not know much about that war," Uncle Zurak admitted, a sense of helplessness evident in his voice. "If I did, I could have helped you with answers. But accusing the king without evidence is treason."

Safiya remained stubborn, her determination unwavering. "I don't know, Uncle. The king is the only one who can answer me," she insisted.

Uncle Zurak let out a sigh as he watched her. She had grown so quickly, he thought, reminiscing about the days when she was a little girl always clinging to his side whenever he came to visit. He remembered her curious eyes whenever he told her a story, but he never anticipated her taking his jesting remarks about weapons seriously.

His brother's death was a painful one, particularly since they were unable to recover his body after it was thrown into a river. A warrior of his caliber should not have met such a fate.

It may seem strange, but there was nothing they could have done. The other warriors claimed he had saved them all from their opponent.

Uncle Zurak understood Safiya's love for swords, weapons, and the armor her father had worn. Despite societal expectations, he did not want to completely hinder her passion. However, he also recognized the dangers she would face if she pursued revenge without caution.

"Safiya, I am aware of your affinity for swords and your desire to follow in your father's footsteps," he began gently, yet firmly. "But you must release your thirst for revenge; it could endanger your life."

Safiya blinked, appearing somewhat incredulous, as if struggling to believe what Uncle Zurak had just said.

"Do you remember how everyone grows up wanting to become something?" she asked.

Uncle Zurak nodded. "Yes."

"Almost all the maidens in Dakar want a good home. Most of them want to be loved, some want to marry for wealth, and others aspire to venture into the clothing business or become travelers. Just like Meka, Her dream has always been to marry for love, and she just did," Safiya said, accepting the fact that Meka indeed married for love.

"Ever since Papa's death, I've had only one goal. I've always wanted one thing, and that is to avenge his death," She added.

"You don't have to be like that. You can turn around, look for a good husband, and settle down," he said.

There was a look of disappointment in her eyes as she gazed at him. "Is that what life is all about? Doing things according to the rules of society? I don't want to conform and I refuse to let anyone dissuade me," she took a step back, shaking her head.

"Safiya, you don't have to-"

"I thought you loved him," she interrupted with a disappointed laugh. "I thought you were willing to do whatever it takes to uncover the truth about what happened to him."

"I do, but..." he started to say, but she cut him off.

"You don't," she said, tears rolling down her cheeks. "All this time, I thought... nevermind." She shook her head. "It's clear now that this is a battle I'll fight alone. I'll do whatever it takes to avenge his death. Not you, not Mama, not even..." She paused, unable to bring herself to think about him or speak his name. "None of you can stop me."

She glanced at him one last time before swiftly leaving the hut, despite his continuous calls for her. Tears continued to stream down her face. It was the first time she had cried in a long while, with the last time being when she heard the news of his death. She must have cried throughout that entire year.

She arrived at the monkey bridge, the one made of wooden planks suspended above tranquil waters. Safiya let out a deep sigh and quickly wiped her eyes, determined to hide any signs of her tears.

She despised crying, feeling as though it made her weak and wrong somehow. The words echoed in her mind, urging her to stop. But more tears continued to roll down her cheeks. Was that what her father wanted? For her to give up, to solely focus on herself?

"No," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. Safiya shook her head, almost slapping herself lightly to regain her resolve. This was what she wanted, what she had to do. She couldn't allow herself to falter now.

Memories of her father flooded her mind, taking her back to a time when she was just a little girl, eleven years ago.

"Safiya," her father's voice called out to her as she played joyfully with her cousins. She looked up and caught sight of him. Instantly, her face lit up with delight, and she raced towards him. It was one of those days when he had returned successfully from war.

Her father smiled and crouched down to her level, making them equals in height. He handed her something wrapped in a small package. "What is it, Papa?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Go on, open it," he encouraged her. Excitement bubbled within her as Safiya tore open the wrapper. Inside was a necklace made with animal skin, adorned with a horn pendant at the front. It was the most magnificent thing she had ever seen.

"I love it, Papa!" Safiya exclaimed, raising the necklace to admire it in wonder.

"Here, let me help you put it on," her father offered. She handed him the necklace, and with gentle hands, he fastened it around her neck, the tiny horn resting in the center.

"How do I look, Papa?" she asked happily, still captivated by the necklace.

"Like a little star," he replied, making her blush. He then scooped her up onto his shoulder, and they spun around, laughing together.

In the present moment, Safiya glanced at the bead necklace still adorning her neck. She had never taken it off because it served as a reminder of her father's love for her.

A smile graced her face as she thought of him. No, there was no way she could simply sit and do nothing. She has to avenge his death.

Just as she took a deep breath, she felt a cold metal on her neck. Oh no, a sword.

"Turn around," a deep voice resonated behind her, sending shivers down her spine. Who was it? What in the world was happening?

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