Minah | Letter | Shopping

That morning, Itzel woke me up before the house came to life. “Minah, can we talk?” I blinked away what remained of my sleepiness and followed her to the back yard. I wondered if she knew that I heard her and her sister talking last night.

“Here,” she said, handing me a folded note. “I thought about giving it to you last night but I wanted to be sure you rested. It’s from Yun. He told me to give it to you when we got to Nala.”

I took the note from her hand and read it right there.

Minah,

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you decided to do your own thing.

I’m sorry about your brother, I’m sorry about what happened to the village and I am sorry I couldn’t protect you.

I’m going to get stronger. I’ll find the people who stole our village away. Please wait for me Minah, I pray the gods keep you safe.

Yun.

A tear ran down my cheek before I realized it. I was so focused on my own pain that I forgot that Yun was hurting too. He almost lost his arm. He lost his mother. He buried my brother and our family.

Yun you idiot. I thought. I told you to go. I didn’t want your pity… If you are going to get stronger– then so will I.

“You okay?” asked Itzel.

“Sae can make me stronger right?” She nodded.

That morning I decided to tell Itzel in my own words about what happened in our village. The murderers, how they took Hani and Sera and the other children were missing. I told her about my brother. I told her everything.

Unexpectedly Itzel wrapped me in a hug. Not sure how to react, I let myself feel weak. I heard the back door open.

“My my, come in, there’s breakfast on the table.” Nayeli just smiled at the two of us. As we stepped inside, Sae was seated already eating. She turned to me.

“Minah,” Sae said, her tone brisk but not unkind, “once you’re done with breakfast, come with me. You’ll need a proper knife—and those clothes won’t do.”

Nayeli glanced over. “We still have some spare outfits in storage. I’ll get a few ready.”

Sae nodded. “Perfect. We’ll be back within the hour. Itzi, make sure we’re packed and ready to move by then.”

“Got it.”

After breakfast Nayeli took me upstairs to get changed. The clothes I had on were useless. Torn in various places and stained with blood and dirt that no amount of washing could get out. Nayeli handed me a dark brown tunic with green accents.

“Minah, try this one on— it should be about your size.”

I took it and put it on. The garment was thicker than I imagined.

She started, “Hmm, it's a tad too big—” I cut in. “I like it, is it okay if I keep it?”

A bright smile crossed her face. “Of course Minah, I’m sure you will grow into it in no time.”

“Sorry for taking so long,” I said.

Sae’s eyes swept over me. After a brief moment she gave a short nod.

“No worries. Let’s go.”

As we walked, I noticed something strange—her hair. The color had changed. I’d seen the same thing with Hani and Sera. Our village never talked about it, not even in whispers. Some things weren’t safe to name. I’d always suspected Sae was connected to them. Now I was almost sure.

We moved in silence through the narrow streets, weaving between rows of whitewashed homes. Sae didn’t say a word, and I didn’t need her to. I used the quiet to take everything in—the smells of spice and smoke, the bright patterned skirts, the voices spilling from open windows. The city felt alive in a way that made me feel smaller.

The noise swelled as we reached the main road. Wagon wheels clattered over stone. Traders shouted, crates thumped, and despite the season the air was thick with heat and movement. I stayed close behind her.

We crossed the street and stepped into a shop that smelled like hot metal. The air hit me like an oven. Inside, tools and weapons hung on the walls—swords, tongs, knives, hammers. Sparks flew from the forge in the back, where a stocky man hammered at a glowing bar of steel, face slick with sweat.

Without turning, he grunted, “Did ya’ walk in plannin’ to ruin ma’ mornin?”

Sae stepped in. “Thought you’d be flat on your back after last night.”

The hammer paused. “Ya’ cheated.”

“Don’t blame me because you can’t hold your liquor.”

He finally turned, wiping his face. His eyes flicked from me to Sae. “Should’ah known better den to challenge a highlander.”

“You say that every time. And I win every time.”

He grumbled, then nodded toward me. “Dis the girl?”

“I’m Minah,” I said, stepping forward. “From Tamuri.”

He froze for a moment. “Tamuri… so it’s true.”

Sae didn’t explain. “She needs a hunting blade.”

My eyes caught a pair of curved knives on the wall. I pointed. “What are those?”

The man looked over, surprised. “Good eye. Dem are kukri—curved blades, meant for dual wield’en. Swift. Brutal. Great for close kills.”

Sae nodded. “Those’ll work. And we’ll need a recurve bow and a dozen arrows.”

He started pulling things down. A little later, we were loaded with supplies—gear, cloth, tools. Sae handed me a bow that felt slightly too big and a bag of arrows.

“Take this to Itzel. She’ll know what to do.”

I carried everything over. Itzel helped me load a cart without a word. A few minutes later, Sae arrived with a horse. We hitched the supplies and began heading back to the cabin.