Hey readers! Yesterday Olive told us about Kāi, but it wouldn't be right to introduce him without letting Olive tell us about the person who meant the most to him. Meet Mîfä.
May 30th, 1890
I had little opportunity to keep company with Mîfä those years ago, but tight-lipped as Kāi was, he mused about her now and then. Those were the times he’d drop his guard, just a little, and a wistful smile would cross his face seemingly without his notice. The folktales of his home are different from the ones I know, but from his descriptions of Mîfä I pictured a magnificent warrior queen whose legendary beauty caused enemies to lay down their weapons and whose unmatched wit and charm commanded the awe of any who met her, as she so clearly had attracted Kāi’s admiration. And more.
The first time I met her in person, I—well, I’ll simply say it was far too perilous a time to care one whit about queens! But my truest impression of Mîfä came not from Kāi’s stories or from our first encounter but from a book.
After the climax of our horrendous adventure, when we’d finally learned the truth of what had happened to Nathaniel and answered questions I still sometimes wish wholeheartedly we’d never asked, there was a palpable silence in our home as we each reconciled what we could or avoided thoughts of what we couldn’t in our own way. I distracted myself with my usual escape—reading—but I had little hope the words would be of comfort. How could anything ever be of comfort again after coming face to face with the Power? After realizing how small and feeble you are before it—that even if you overcome it, it will mark you for eternity? That not even queens with the world bowing at their feet can escape it unscathed? What words from a book would ever weather those woes?
But I found my copy of Little Women fat with other words scribbled on bits of paper tucked between the pages. Mîfä must have read my books to pass time and strengthen her hold on English.
At first she’d simply noted words she hadn’t understood—then returned to define their meaning once she did. Later she’d copied passages that had moved her and left sympathetic comments about Jo’s struggle through an unfair world.
It was in those notes I truly met Mîfä—not a queen expecting admiration but a philosopher, a student with a love not only of knowledge but of learning itself, and a woman who fought for a love rightfully hers and a brighter future than what had been handed to her.
If that doesn’t command awe, nothing should!
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