Chapter 3 #2
As the first hints of morning bled into the horizon, I took a deep breath—accidently swallowed a bug, spent several minutes coughing while both men awkwardly patted my back, and then red-faced and teary-eyed—I told him everything.
If Tavrik was shocked, he didn’t show it. He nodded along, absorbing every word. As soon as I spoke of the vision Zaheera had shown me—the war that was coming—his entire frame tensed. A shadow crossed his face, the gravity of it all bearing down on him.
The silence that followed hung heavy between us, broken only by the occasional chirps of birds darting through the canopy.
Finally, Tavrik met my gaze. Something had shifted in those hazel eyes—a barrier lowered.
“Thank you for trusting me with this,” he said. “Not many would.”
He changed his position against the hard ground, wincing as he stretched out his legs. “I suppose it’s only fair I share something in return.”
Tavrik cleared his throat, glancing briefly at the surrounding trees before continuing.
“I was in the king’s guard for twenty years,” he said, his fingers tapping the ornate hilt of the curved dagger at his hip. The weapon gleamed in the early morning light, its silver blade etched with intricate designs that I’d somehow failed to notice.
“You were a royal guard?” Theo asked, inching closer, suddenly interested.
Tavrik nodded. “I was but—” he paused, his jaw clenched tight enough to grind stones. “I ‘deserted’ them.”
The way he emphasised the word made it clear there was far more to the story. His eyes grew distant, focused on the memories. “Now I have a bounty on my head. That’s why I’m fleeing to the Veil. The mortal realm isn’t safe for me anymore.”
I thought of the brutish guards pushing through the marketplace three days ago, scanning faces with predatory intent. Was Theo thinking about the same thing?
“We saw some guards a few days ago in our village,” I said carefully, watching Tavrik’s reaction. “They were looking for someone.”
He nodded, pressing his lips into a line so tight they nearly disappeared, his fingers unconsciously straying to the dagger’s hilt.
“One in particular was really terrifying,” I added, raising my hand to my own face. “He had a huge scar—” I dragged my fingers dramatically from the top of my forehead down across my eye and cheek, all the way to my neck in a slashing motion.
“Armin,” Tavrik said. “He is one of the strongest, and as unforgiving as he looks”
I snorted. “Well, he was no match for one of the village elders. She took him down with nothing more than an arched brow.”
“I would’ve loved to have seen that,” he said, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Armin’s ego could use deflating.”
“Do you think they were looking for you?” I asked, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.
He exhaled sharply, a sound caught between resignation and frustration. “Seems that way.”
It was clear whatever triggered his desertion—whatever he had done or witnessed—would remain locked behind the fortress of his clenched jaw and guarded eyes.
I mentioned what we would use if we ever got caught. Theo’s shoulders tensed, his nostrils flaring with irritation, but Tavrik nodded slowly, deeming it worthy.
I grinned triumphantly at Theo, who rolled his eyes.
Tavrik smiled. “Acting the fool will serve us better. If we offer an excuse that’s too calculated, they’ll grow suspicious.”
Both Tavrik and I turned to Theo, who threw his hands up with theatrical indignation.
“I won’t screw it up!”
We didn’t even manage to rest before setting off again, pushing forward under the bright sun that beat down on our necks.
Trying to cover as much ground as we could before nightfall.
The forest stretched endlessly, branches arched overhead in a tangled web, the smell of damp earth filling my lungs with each laboured breath.
Tavrik shared stories of his time in the king’s guard.
The lavish events where royalty and the wealthy indulged in excess.
The constant political manipulations that played out behind closed doors.
The way men in power pretended their world was untouchable.
They were blind to the truth. No palace and no amount of gold would shield them from the wrath of the Jinn when the time came.
We speculated on what awaited us beyond the Veil as we ducked under low-hanging boughs and stepped over twisted roots. Tavrik was more knowledgeable than either of us, and recounted what he had heard during his years of service.
“They treated the Jinn like myths,” he said. “Small details were buried in old texts, fragments of knowledge left behind by former rulers of these lands.” He paused, wiping the sweat from his brow. “I always listened. Maybe some part of me knew I would need it someday.”
He glanced at me, his lips quirking into a soft smile and eyes crinkling at the corners.
I smiled back, my feet carrying me to his side—drawn in by his words.
I could feel Theo’s gaze boring into the back of my head, the weight of it pressing between my shoulder blades. His mood soured with our every exchanged glance. His footsteps growing heavier—deliberately loud.
He didn’t like it when I spoke to Tavrik. He liked it even less when Tavrik smiled at me.
Tavrik continued, hands gesturing to emphasise his words.
“There are many forms of Jinn, but the most powerful are Firewalkers. They can summon flame from nothing and whisper into your mind without ever moving their lips. They can manipulate what you see—what you feel. They can touch you without ever lifting a hand.” He exhaled slowly.
“At least that’s what the old books claim.
It could be an exaggeration, or it could be that we still don’t know the full extent of their abilities. ”
Great. And I was supposed to kill one of them.
We took short breaks along the way, kneeling by clear streams to splash water on our faces and quench our thirst. We gathered handfuls of berries from uneven growth of crooked trees.
Theo and I stuffed as many as we could into our pockets, the fabric staining purple, grateful to have something to eat other than that horrifying rabbit.
The taste was sharp and slightly sweet. I savoured the way the juice coated my fingers, licking them clean when I thought no one was looking.
Zaheera’s pull grew stronger with every step.
“You’ve seen the Veil before,” I asked Tavrik as I popped another berry into my mouth. “How much farther until we reach it?”
“Should only be another two days walk.”
A cold dread spread from my chest to my limbs. The flavour on my tongue turned acidic—bitter and burning. My mind spinning through the endless possibilities of what could go wrong.
Theo must have noticed. Without a word, he wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close. “We’ll be okay, Elira.” He lifted his pinkie to his lips, eyes holding mine. Our silent promise.
A single tear slipped down my cheek, tracing a warm path through the dirt and sweat.
Theo wiped it away with his thumb.
There was no point in overthinking. There was nothing I could do. I swallowed against the lump forming in my throat and kept walking. Hours passed in a blur of sore muscles and heavy footsteps. When we finally found a clearing, we collapsed, leaves crunching beneath our exhausted bodies.
The sky stretched above us like an endless sea of stars. Tavrik created a fire, which crackled low between us. Within minutes, Theo and Tavrik fell asleep, chests rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The fires glow cast a deep golden light over their sleeping forms.
The night should’ve been peaceful, the quiet a welcome reprieve, but silence had never felt so heavy.
Tavrik’s words echoed in my mind as I hugged my knees to my chest. The Jinn were more than just fire and shadows. Some commanded water, and others, illusions. Tricksters and dream-weavers. Whisperers and deceivers.
The odds were against me.
I exhaled shakily, my breath misting in the cool night air as I curled into Theo, stealing his warmth. He sighed softly in his sleep, throwing his arm over me and tangling his fingers in my hair.
Sleep finally found me, pulling me under with heavy hands.
But the fear never faded.
A scream tore through my soul, the agony of fire consuming me from the inside out. Flames seared my skin, carving pain into every nerve. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs straining desperately for air that wouldn’t come.
“Elira!”
I saw him, blurred within the smoke. His eyes blazing into mine. The fire was everywhere, wrapping around me like chains. Dragging me deeper into the abyss.
“ELIRA! What do I do?!”
The words barely registered. My mind was slipping—drowning in unbearable heat.
A sharp slap cracked across my cheek. The flames vanished.
The suffocating heat ripped away, replaced by the biting chill of the early morning air. I sucked in a ragged breath as reality reasserted itself in the frantic faces of my companions.
Theo knelt beside me, his fingers gripping my arms so tightly it almost hurt. His brows furrowed deep in worry. Tavrik stood to the side, eyes wide with confusion.
“Elira, don’t tell me it was a nightmare.” Theo tightened his grip. “You were tearing at your own skin. Screaming like you were on fire.”
I blinked, feeling the raw sting on my arms where my nails had raked across them.
It was bad enough I had to endure it every night. To feel it as though my body was truly being consumed by flames. Speaking it aloud would only make it more tangible—would force me to shape the horror into words. As my mother always said, to give them a voice is to give them power.
“Believe me, it’s just a nightmare.”
Theo didn’t look convinced, his eyes narrowing as they searched my face, but he didn’t press me further. He knew me well enough to understand that I didn’t want to talk about it. That some horrors were better left unspoken.
I closed my eyes, the nightmare replaying in my mind with merciless clarity.