A Tale of Tails (Tuzi Legends)

A Tale of Tails (Tuzi Legends)

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Commissioned by Citino

Wordcount: 1041

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There was once peace, and the Tuzi lived within dens and burrows. The darkness held no sway over our sight, so we saw what other could not within the shadows. Where others would not dare tread, where the few could protect the many, the Tuzi once lived in harmony like all others, but who dwelled rather than ventured.

Instead of trading the crafts, offering protection, and healing the sick, the Tuzi once had fields to tend to, chambers to clean and settle, and many young to tend to. Our burrows were many, as were our crops and herds, and the Valley from which we were born was bountiful, pleasant, and good. One can live well within it for the whole of their life, never leaving, and die happily amongst the sons, daughters, and the sons and daughters of their sons and daughters.

But, such a place is coveted, and so it was taken from the Tuzi.

The names of who sought to take from us are many. Our land, where we settled, was loved and envied. Kingdoms, warlords, and other clans rose up to take it. We vanquished many, but with each one we struck down, another came with the same intent. Piece by piece, we were slowly worn and broken, until our Valley was no longer our own, our fields and animals taken, and ourselves chained to our conquerors.

This is when the Tuzi died and were reborn.

While forced to learn the tongue of our conquers, learn their traditions, and become slaves, our people cared for our own. Though separated from their parents, by either blade or distance, a child of one Tuzi is a child of all Tuzi. Those amongst the groups passed on our traditions, our language, and the unspoken tongue our tribe used to hunt in the darkness. When the traditions were taken, and those who spoke had their tongues taken, our hands remained with us, for what use were slaves without fingers?

So, though our home was gone, our lands in taken, and we were spread across the land, the Tuzi stayed strong. Even if born into chains, a Tuzi child learned of their history, and remained Tuzi. No matter the punishment, those of age and maturity passed on what knowledge they could, and the bonds on our bodies never reached our minds and spirits. Though our bodies were bound, our souls minds remained free.

Servitude never entered our soul.

There were amongst our number who faltered and failed, who were enticed by those who chained us down, but they were struck down in turn. The tribe takes care of its own, and those who harm the tribe are of it no longer. Thus, though we slew our own kin, we ensured that our greatest secrets would never be found.

Centuries passed with the Tuzi collared and chained, and there were many times when many broke beneath the yoke, but when the day came we all struck as one.

In the Empire of Jade’s history, it is a simple, ignoble moment of victorious conquest. Their armies came upon the region like indomitable, unbreakable warriors. Their most honored warriors struck within measures of an instant, their nobility levelled fortifications with ease, and the Emperor merely gestured with hand to see whole armies give their life-blood to him.

In this time, when the guards were few and the panic rising, slaves were expected to escape. However, those of the Tuzi that did, simply fell into the hands of guards in another city, to be punished and sentenced… and relay the news. Many suffered the lash, and a few were hung, but the words were passed on. Our numbers were small, our rebellions impossible if another town came to help another, but not so when all towns rebelled at once.

Aye, child, I speak of the night we celebrate today, when the Tuzi at once crippled a kingdom long enough to see it swept away beneath another within a single lunar cycle. The day we aided the Empire, took back our freedom after centuries, and turned a long war into a series of battles lasting a smattering of days.

But, what shall you learn from this tale, child?

Is it to exact vengeance upon your opponents? To see them brought low for the wrongs that they’ve rendered upon you? Perhaps. Many Tuzi had killed their former masters with their own hands. Lineages were extinguished in return for what had been done to both fathers and mothers, nephews and nieces, and brothers and sisters. There is relief in the release of anguish and turmoil. But, I ask you this, what shall you do if that anguish and turmoil does not fade? You must remember that the Tuzi does not allow harm upon one another.

What of the value of sacrifice? To give your body, your mind, and your spirit to protect and uphold something or someone you cherish more than your own soul? It is a virtue to give oneself to a greater purpose, but death still comes for you. Would you not wish to love and live? To care for yourself, rather than forget about your own body, mind, and spirit? Heroism is laudable and grand, child. However, it is a path typically passed down through songs. Not by the ones who are lauded.

Now, then, if not vengeance of sacrifice, what is the meaning of this tale? If I do not speak of rendering justice, or dying for your people, why do I tell you this story?

It is to tell you of what beget both.

Freedom.

In those centuries, we could have accepted our place, and done as we were told by powers greater than us. We could have become part of that very empire, more than slaves, if we proved our worth. Many other slaves did. But, throughout the centuries, we toiled beneath hardship and died for the sake of remaining Tuzi, remaining free, instead of succumbing to another path. So glorious was the feeling when it drew near that many lost their way in reveling in its magnificence that they slew when they could’ve spared.

Hmmm? What’s that, child?

You ask me what freedom is?

Well, that’s something that you must decide for yourself.