Thoughts

Thunderstorms: Two

There was a darkness that no light could penetrate here.

Azra was not surprised when he saw where he was. He immediately knew he was inside one of his many nightmares.

The same thing always happened. He ran for what seemed like an eternity with no ending in site. He would feel no wind in the air. No scent to be smelt and nothing around to be seen. He was alone in this desolation.

Then the voice would come.

Insulting him with ever manner of unprintable word they could conjure. They called for his death. Their reason; he had refused to be counted among his kind. He chose to walk with the filth that is humanity. He was a disgrace to them and everything they stood for. That was when the blade would find its way through his chest and he would wake from the slumber, his blade already drawn to fend off the imaginary attack.

“It was only a dream, Azra,” Mila, who must have been woken by his moans, was next to where he lay. Azra did not speak as he lay his sword down and sat up. Even if he knew that these were just dreams, he needed to reassure himself of that notion every time they occurred.

Mila eyed him for a few moments longer before she stood and returned to her beddings, not another word on the subject. Azra was glad that she was not one to pry into a matter. Maybe it was because she had dreams that she needed reassurance weren’t real as well.

Azra rose from his beddings and went out of their shelter, sparing another glance at Mila’s back, now turned to sleep. The night air on his face was always a welcome embrace. Most people hated it around this time of the season. The cold was an indication of winter’s arrival.

He glanced around the camp and noticed that the others were all asleep, Mimo in Siza’s embrace and Sila perched delicately on a tree’s branch. To anyone outside the knowledge in Yori, you would say this was a gathering of friends, even bordering on family. But Azra was never confused with the affiliations here. He knew that as much as he trusted the people here, there was no denying that they were of Yori decent, very opposite to him.

He sat at the very edge of the camp and looked out from the hill they camped on to the vast expanse of the Dead Forest. This place felt more of a home to him than the Motherlands of Yori. He wondered why he stayed away from them at all. Why did he return to a place he was always despised and shunned?

“May I join you?”

He glanced back to see the young girl they had rescued from the bandits. She looked to be around twenty winters young and the granddaughter to the Scora Kingdom leader. In other words, she was royalty and the Elder Mothers would have moved mountains to make her retrieval a possibility.

He nodded stiffly as the girl came and sat next to him on the rock, pulling the cloak around her closer due to the breeze picking up around them.

“I would like to express my gratitude for the service you and your knights have accorded me today.”

Azra had never really met the girl before. He had only heard that she was to be an Elder Mother when she was to come of older age, a huge responsibility for any child to bear in mind when still in their infancy. If she would turn to be the same as the ones Azra was forced to deal with now, then he would have no kind words to speak to her now.

“I imagine you must think little of my clan. Especially since it was my grandmother and the other Elder Mothers who do not allow you entry to the Motherlands’ capital, yet expect you to retrieve their offspring without question.”

Azra was in fact, thinking the same thing. The Yori Motherlands had always been off limits to him. Mila, Mimo and the twins could at least roam the Scora and Elenka lands without fear of the Elder Mothers’ wrath. Even though he had performed more service to the Yori people, more than any other knight in the force, he was only allowed existence in the Oak Wastelands. The only time he was allowed in the Motherands was when he would receive invite by the Elder Mothers. He had every right to have no kind of attraction to the royal girl, who would know nothing about how one can live in exile for twenty five winters now.