Chapter 26 Azahara
Azahara
The following day slipped away like a ghost, much as its predecessor had.
Exhausted from a night of ceaseless travel and surviving on fleeting moments of sleep in the saddle, they found themselves drained.
Zhal, as usual, appeared unfazed, casually boasting about her ability to endure days without rest. In contrast, Illyan, stripped of their Magic, had become subject to the same mortal limitations as Kaed and her—requiring rest.
They took turns walking, offering their horses the much-needed respite from their burdens. Along their journey south through the countryside, their stops at taverns were brief, focused solely on grabbing a quick meal.
The landscape that unfolded before them was primarily farmland, zealously guarded by the Order, recognizing it as their most vital resource for sustenance and trade.
Their destination lay on the horizon—the Route of Ise, a legendary trade route stretching from the southernmost tip of the realm, Duurn, to nearly its northernmost region, Zibbema.
They engaged in minimal conversations, their concern for Azahara evident in their constant questions about her well-being, offering food and water at regular intervals.
Even Zhal showed her unease, albeit in her own stoic manner.
Azahara didn’t resist or argue, consistently responding with the same reassurance.
“No, I’m fine.” Her voice was aloof. It was about the hundredth time that day they had asked.
Fortunately, as the sun began to set, it marked their final night before reaching the north gate of the kingdom.
Although they could have pushed on, they collectively decided to prioritize rest, and remaining alert would be wiser.
They planned to spend a night in the town of Luath, ensuring they were well-rested before settling into the city.
After dismounting, Azahara wasted no time and entered the tavern without waiting for the others, her footsteps quick and purposeful. The sound of footsteps echoed closely behind her.
The tavern mirrored the one before, with its dim lighting and wooden furnishings.
However, this time it was filled with numerous patrons.
Nearly every table was occupied, and as Azahara entered, dozens of eyes turned in her direction.
The sight of her caused many to pause, setting their drinks aside and rising slightly from their seats, their chairs thudding back to the ground.
Ignoring their stares, she scanned the room until she spotted a vacant table. She wished it were tucked away in the farthest corner, but she navigated through the dense crowd with a groan. The room was a bustling mix of Humans, Elves, and Dwarves, filling the space with their lively presence.
A hand slipped into hers, and she quickly whipped around to throw a punch when she saw Kaed, a smile on his face. “Please don’t hit me here. That would be embarrassing.” She lowered her fist, and the edges of her lips curled up slightly.
Some unsatisfied eyes glared at Kaed, causing them to go back to their drinks. Others cared less and kept staring.
Once seated, Azahara scanned the room in search of Illyan and Zhal.
“They are going to procure a room, hopefully.” Kaed moved his seat closer to her and sat beside her.
Azahara just nodded and looked at him, relaxing in her chair. The wooden stump was anything to be desired, but it was better than a horse. The single candle in the middle of the rounded wooden table flickered, giving off a soft ambiance.
It would have been romantic if it weren’t for all the loud screaming patrons.
“I don’t want to keep asking if you are okay.
” He pulled her attention. “I know you aren’t.
” The back of his hand brushed against her cheek.
“Can I help you in any way?” He had profusely apologized earlier for covering her mouth as he had.
She was adamant that it was okay—she had wanted to stop talking but hadn’t been given the opportunity.
She would have continued to recount the awful things he had done to her, potentially spiraling back into a catatonic state.
She released a deep sigh before responding, “I will be alright, Kaed. I need to talk about it, but my throat closes up whenever I think about it, and I feel sick.”
His hand moved to the small of her back, his thumb brushing gently. “I’m here to listen when you are ready. I’ll not silence you again—”
“Kaed…” She shook her head and leaned towards him, the sounds around them roaring like a dozen caged lions. “You must have felt I needed an out to stop talking. I don’t hold it against you for doing it. Really…”
His jaw clenched, not necessarily agreeing with her reasoning, but he nodded anyways.
“They have a single room.” Zhal’s voice rose sharply as she sat, causing several patrons at the nearby tables to instinctively scoot away.
Illyan came to sit on the other side of her. “We took it; there are two beds. I will be sleeping with Kaed, and Azahara with Zhal.” There was a dreamy look in their eyes as they stared at Kaed.
“You know if you touch him, I will have to kill you, right?” A laugh accompanied her quip.
Illyan gasped with mock shock. “I would never.”
A heavy laugh escaped Kaed, and it was infectious. The group, excluding Zhal, laughed together in unison. It felt good, and Azahara appreciated them more than ever in that moment.
She would be okay because of them.
The evening passed relatively quickly as they enjoyed their meal, discussing the upcoming days and what they could expect.
Once ready, they made their way up to the single room.
Azahara couldn’t help but wish for a private moment with Kaed to talk about everything that had happened and what lay ahead.
Under different circumstances, they might have sought another tavern, but exhaustion had taken its toll.
They were all worn out from being awake for almost the entire day.
They didn’t even bother changing their clothes; they simply collapsed into sleep.
Azahara slept next to Zhal while Kaed shared a bed with Illyan.
The beds were spacious enough that Kaed had placed their pillows between them, jokingly warning the Fae that if they crossed the imaginary line, he would hang them up by their wings for a Yuul.
It was all in good spirits until Illyan unintentionally brushed his arm against Kaed.
Thankfully, the night passed without incident.
Azahara awoke as the first light rays streamed through the window, casting a soft glow on the modest room.
Its simple furnishings, minimal decorations, wooden walls, and floor exuded a rustic charm.
The room was adorned with blue blankets, sheets, and a matching rug, providing a touch of color amidst the otherwise muted palette.
Her cheeks flushed with warmth, a gentle blush adorning her face. Zhal lay peacefully beside her, still deep in slumber, holding Azahara firmly to her.
Her head against the warrior’s chest, finding comfort in it, serving as a makeshift pillow. Zhal’s arms enveloped her, one hand caressing her back and the other nestled near her neck. She was warm, which begged Azahara to stay and not leave.
Taking a deep breath, she calmed her racing heart and steadied herself. Her leg was entwined with Zhal’s, as was her arm, as she typically would with Kaed.
“Luckily, I’m not a jealous person,” Kaed whispered from the other bed, surprising her.
Feeling Azahara startle, Zhal awoke, her hold on her tightening instinctively as if shielding her from an unseen danger.
Only after realizing Azahara was awake, and no threat was present did Zhal slowly release her grip.
“Good morning,” she greeted casually, causing a fleeting moment of doubt for Azahara, who wondered if it had all been a dream.
Sitting there, she swallowed. “Good morning.”
“What is it?” Zhal sat up with zero effort. “Your face is red, and you are staring at me.”
Azahara covered her face with her hands, causing Kaed to laugh. Then, that laugh was followed by a yelp and a painful, agonizing cry for help.
“I warned you, Fae,” Kaed snapped, causing Azahara to whip around to find him rising from the bed. Illyan clutched their stomach, and a chuckle escaped her as she realized what was happening.
Illyan, on the opposite side of the bed, was contorting in feigned agony. “I just wanted to cuddle like them!” they continued, and the room filled with laughter. It was all in good fun, and their playful antics had everyone amused, said for one.
Zhal was out of bed shortly after that. “We weren’t cuddling.”
Azahara wasn’t going to argue with her, but they absolutely were.
“Yeah, huh—Kaed may not be jealous, but I am.” Illyan rolled onto their stomach, curling their legs up and giving them the side eye. “I’m sleeping with Ladybug next time. She’ll cuddle with me.”
Azahara laughed and suddenly felt Zhal’s arm brush against hers as she came around the bed. “I liked the arrangement. It won’t change next time. Are you quite done?” It didn’t get the reaction out of them like she wanted, as Illyan and Kaed laughed.
Somehow, that small sentiment had got under Zhal’s skin. “How can you stand them.” Not really a question, but Azahara shrugged.
“They’ll grow on you,” she said, placing her hand on Zhal’s arm. “You just give me the word, and I’ll subdue them.”
Zhal groaned and walked out of the room without another word.
An arm snaked around her waist and quickly pulled her in. Kaed planted a kiss on her lips.
“I’m going to sleep on the roof next time,” he joked and squeezed her before letting her go. “Let’s head out. We have a long day ahead of us.”
Swiftly changing their clothes and tidying up, they ventured out of the tavern as a trio.
Zhal stood by the horses, her expression icy and unyielding.
Azahara had cautioned them against making any remarks, knowing full well that provoking Zhal would invite her wrath.
They had both agreed to heed her advice.