Chapter 23 Azahara
Azahara
“Ican’t travel with her. I won’t do it,” Illyan cawed.
“Illy,” Azahara began guiding them away from Kaed and Zhal, finding solace under a tree with a weathered seat. It was a spot she rarely visited these days; a bench covered in roots and moss, showing its lack of resilience over time. “Tell me why.”
Illyan expressed disbelief as they responded, “Her father was the one who killed you.” Azahara sensed there was more to their hesitation than just that, but she listened attentively.
“And you simply allowed her to pledge some strange loyalty to you without question.” They crossed their arms beneath their chest and leaned to the side, their gaze scrutinizing Azahara.
“She abandoned you and allowed her father to take your life.”
She let out a sigh, her expression tinged with condemnation.
She glanced over her shoulder, observing Kaed as he packed their belongings into the saddlebags of Moondancer and Starlight.
Zhal was busy doing the same for her majestic, towering Mustang.
It was truly remarkable how these creatures had evolved over countless centuries to reach such impressive proportions.
The Mustang stood at least two feet taller than Starlight, who was already considered large for his breed.
Azahara took a deep breath, exhaling slowly through her nose.
“Do you think it’s easy for Kaed?” Illyan’s gaze shifted to the floor, avoiding direct eye contact.
“And do you honestly believe it’s easy for me?
” She approached her friend, placing a reassuring hand on Illyan’s shoulder.
“We need all the help we can get. Strangely enough, I trust her. I think you should too.”
Illyan scoffed and peered through their thick lashes. “Her style is atrocious.”
Azahara rolled her eyes. “Is that really why you’re upset?”
Placing their hands on their hips, Illyan scowled. “No. She refuses to help with anything. No cleaning. No packing. No—”
Illyan halted abruptly, their violet eyes locking onto Azahara’s now mismatched ones. It was as if they saw something hidden within her, something Azahara was trying to convey without uttering a single word.
“I’ll try to get along with her.” Azahara opened her arms, and Illyan stepped in, holding her close. They seemed to anchor her to this realm, and without their presence, she feared she would drift away, lost amidst the vastness of the stars.
She took a deep breath and released them. “Let’s go.” Nudging against Illyan as they approached, she whispered, “By the way, your socks are mismatched.”
A guttural gasp escaped them, and Azahara quickened her stride. She reached Kaed in a few steps, who put his hand out to take hers. She obliged, lacing her fingers between his and stepping between the two.
“The Order is still at the edge of the forest.” Zhal pointed toward the billowing smoke.
“They completely missed my father’s attack.
..” She looked at Azahara. Her stoic expression remained unchanged, but Azahara felt a particular energy shift from Zhal.
“Not that I think it would have changed much, just would have resulted in more bloodshed.”
Understanding, Azahara nodded.
“We can catch up with them there. Then, have them send word to the king that we are coming,” Kaed added, walking Azahara to Starlight.
“You think they’ll do as a single ranger request?” Zhal’s monotone voice questioned.
“Maybe Azahara will bake some cookies to go along with the request,” Kaed quipped.
Oh boy. Azahara grimaced, rubbing gently at the back of her neck.
“We have to pass the camp anyway. If they refuse our request, we’ll just march forward in the hopes the king will make time for us when he sees his citizens.
” That could potentially entail waiting in line for days, a prospect she sincerely hoped to avoid.
Zhal was satisfied with that and swiftly mounted her Mustang.
The onyx-colored steed exuded power, its muscles rippling with every step.
Its eyes gleamed with a pale blue hue, almost resembling white.
To Azahara’s surprise, the steed’s appearance harmonized remarkably well with Zhal’s own.
Just as Zhal adorned herself with black armor lined with white, secured over a solid black fabric, the steed boasted a matching harness.
The reins and stirrups shimmered in gold, while the packs adorning its sides showcased brown hues with delicate white embroidery.
“Would you like to ride with me, Ounr?” Zhal stared down at Azahara.
Riding on that horse was honestly intriguing. She contemplated it momentarily but knew that Starlight needed her more than anything after everything that had gone on the night before. “I’ll stick with Starlight for now, possibly later to give him a break.”
Zhal didn’t respond; she simply nodded her head.
Kaed assisted her in getting up onto Starlight, even though she didn’t need it, and climbed up behind her.
Illyan would take Moondancer, at least for the first leg of their trip.
There had been no protest from any party, especially Illyan, who had nearly begged her not to let them ride with, in their words “the beast”.
She had scolded them for referring to Zhal in such a way.
Azahara cast one final gaze upon her beloved home, cherishing its image in the depths of her mind. Uncertain of when she would set eyes upon it again, she engraved its memory in the forefront of her consciousness.
Don’t forget. Don’t forget. She willed herself.
The most unnerving aspect was that she had to leave the journals, unguarded and vulnerable, behind. She had scoured the entire house multiple times, ensuring no flames remained lit. She had even gone to the extent of relocating all non-essential wooden items outside and to the outhouse at the back.
“Let us be off then,” Kaed said, putting his hands on Azahara’s hips.
She took a deep breath and gave Starlight a light tap on his side.
They were making great time. Starlight hadn’t been used to two riders, but as strong as he was, he managed to keep stride with both Illyan and Zhal.
Entering the forest within the hour, they trailed through, using the light they had to guide them.
Thankfully, the woods at the southernmost part of her land were not as thick as Kasca Forest, but it was still treacherous enough that they would try not to be there at nightfall.
There was no official name for this cluster of trees; many referred to it as the Rosland, in honor of Rosland Ophelia Jhray, the wife of the first king to rule over the Naverra Kingdom.
It bore her name because of her infamous attempt to assassinate the king, which ultimately failed.
As a consequence, she was sentenced to die in this very place.
Although no one could confirm her demise, she was never seen again.
Legend has it that the knight assigned to execute her fell in love with Rosland and spirited her away to a distant land, where they lived a long and happy life together. The only one who appreciated this story was Illyan, while both Zhal and Kaed scoffed at the romance of it all.
Azahara preferred to believe that Rosland had found her happy ending.
“Even during the day, this place gives me the creeps,” Illyan chimed in as they rounded a bend that separated the northernmost part from its southern. This was the halfway point and at about midday.
Azahara didn’t say anything, just took in the scenery.
“It isn’t that bad,” Zhal blandly commented.
“Are you even afraid of anything?” Illyan snapped.
Azahara caught the rumble of laughter in Kaed’s chest, and she didn’t need words to understand what he was thinking. It was clear that they were both in sync regarding their thoughts and feelings about each other.
“I am,” Zhal said.
“And it is?” Illyan pushed.
“Why would I ever tell you, a Fae for that matter, my fear.” She was so matter of fact that Azahara wondered if it even was a question.
“I’ll tell you mine.” Illyan grinned sheepishly.
Zhal never took her eyes from in front of them. The warrior had shown emotion the night her father attacked; now, she was like a shell—void of human or other vehemence.
“I suspect we have the same fear.” Her tone was flat. Azahara looked at her then. “I don’t believe it is something we need to discuss, though.”
She felt Kaed move his hand around her stomach and pull himself closer to her. Had Zhal been referring to her at that moment? Her eyes trailed to Illyan, who was now looking at her. Fear of asking the question turned her away and had her looking forward.
Were they afraid for me, or of me… Azahara wondered, her heart rate picking up.
“Are you hungry?” Kaed asked, leaning in and kissing the back of her head.
Straightening her back, she nodded. They had been riding for hours, and while they had eaten breakfast, they likely needed some sustenance.
They didn’t have to stop. Azahara had wrapped them all a sandwich for the first day’s ride, knowing they would likely not stop until they were ready to set up camp for the night. Simple peanut butter and jam on homemade bread did the trick. All of them seemed to relax after.
As the hours passed, it became evident that the horses were running out of steam. They never dismounted, even during short stops. It was time to set up camp and get a few good hours of sleep.
Finding a clearing was relatively easy. As they approached the forest’s edge, the trees thinned out. Zhal and Kaed dismounted first and began assembling their shelter for the night.
Each of them had brought a large piece of waxed wool cloth. In total, they had three. Azahara and Kaed only needed one, while Illyan and Zhal packed their own. The thought of them sharing a tent was amusing, but Azahara didn’t want either of them to be at each other’s throats by morning.