Chapter 42 Azahara
Azahara
With each of them having distinct desires and needs, reaching a collective agreement between them became challenging.
While Kaed felt it was his responsibility to stay and fight with his brethren, Illyan spoke of returning to his grandfather to try and make things right, and Azahara, she was ready to go home.
She’d arranged a horse with a carrier to take Zhal back with her, with the understanding that the medics here had done all they could for her.
When it came to Kaed, she all but got down on her knees and begged him to come with her.
She knew it was difficult for him, but ultimately, he conceded to her wishes.
She never wanted to take the choice away from him, but whether he was in it would not be the determining factor of winning the upcoming conflict.
He had been distant since the conversation, and she understood. Most of her time was spent with Zhal in the medical tent, anyhow, watching for any signs that she was getting better or ready to wake.
Azahara refrained from offering any more of her blood to her, apprehensive that it might exacerbate the situation or create an imbalance within her.
Moreover, it was evident that the initial attempt had yielded no results.
There was an absence of anything extraordinary, contrary to her fervent hopes and prayers to the Mother.
After reconciling with Illyan, a couple of days had elapsed. As she stepped into the tent shared by herself and Kaed, she noticed the Fae engrossed in some sort of sewing activity. They were seated on their cot, legs crossed, seemingly lost in their thoughts.
“Hey.” She looked around the very sparse room, hoping to find Kaed.
“Oh, hey, Ladybug.” They noticed her wandering eyes. “He went to meet with the King’s Eagles. They arrived this morning.”
“Ahh… so, the king has decided then.” She wasn’t surprised. Even with the allegations of an army that size, forces should be prepared and ready to go, just in case.
“He has. Since this is the closest Outpost to the bridge between his land and Helgum, they will gather his forces here at this camp, along with calling all able-bodied men and women from the city and his countryside. I suspect we will begin to see several civilians filling the camp in the coming days. They’ve already started expanding beyond the already forged perimeter.
” Illyan sighed heavily. “When are the three of you leaving?”
Azahara wanted to go back to Zhal and not have this conversation.
“Tomorrow, I’m hoping. If we have to wait another day because of the weather, we will.
” The rain had come in waves, making it difficult to do much traveling.
She didn’t want to travel through a storm with Zhal in her condition and make things worse.
“I’ll come see you once I’ve mended things with my grandfather…”
“And of your father?” she asked, knowing that they had no answer.
“I will try to convince my grandfather to listen to me.” They stopped sewing, their shoulders dropping in defeat. “It’s all I can do. I can’t fight in a mortal battle.”
“Thall will fight, and he has the Magic of your great-grandfather. I don’t think the rules apply in this situation.” She knew it was a tough subject, and she didn’t want to fight with Illyan. “Sorry… I’m…” Turning back towards the tent’s opening, she was ready to leave.
“I’m making something for you—well, for us.” Lifted in their hand was a palm-sized object that they had been sewing.
Her eyes widened as they lay upon a star, with three finished points, with arrays of beautiful colors and designs. “It isn’t done yet.” She moved towards them as they extended it out to her. Upon inspecting it closer, she could see the detail in the patch. “I’ll try to finish it before you leave.”
Each of the points of the star had something that represented them.
The left point had a bow hanging from it, with an arrow leaning against it.
The right had a sword resting against it with a white marking, just like the ones Zhal had inked on her body.
The bottom of the star was every color of the rainbow, embellished with a rose.
The top was the unfinished piece, which she knew would end up representing her.
Azahara looked up then at Illyan, tears filling her eyes.
“I was saving you for last because you brought us together. You will hold us in place.” They put their hand out, and she placed the unfinished patch into it. “I am going to make all four of us one.”
Four of us. The tears fell down her cheek as she took an unsteady breath. “Illy, it’s beautiful.” They stepped towards her, and she opened her arms to them. “I love it so much.” Their embrace was brief but needed. “Thank you.”
When she pulled away, they wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Go back to Zhal. I’ll be here if you need me.”
With a smile, she turned and exited the tent; the overcast sky was a welcome sight.
The chill in the air wasn’t too severe, for which she was grateful.
Winter was upon them, and soon, the icy gusts would blow down from the north.
Although these parts never received snow, they still grew cold enough to add an extra layer of difficulty to their battles.
Gorruk and most of the creatures she saw in the cavern would be impervious to such mundane concerns.
“Gods be damned!” A male voice over her shoulder caught her attention, pulling her from her thoughts.
Peering over her shoulder, she saw three men, a human, and two Elves, leaning into one another, staring at her.
“I did not realize they allowed these kinds of women to join the Order.” When her eyes narrowed at them, they all simultaneously said “Ooh,” drawing out the word longer than their dicks.
Paying them no more mind, she turned to walk towards the center of the camp to get back to the medics’ tent.
“Wait, don’t go so soon.” One of them rushed over and grabbed onto her wrist. Why were people so prone to grabbing her?
As if she were a dog let off its leash. “Are you a soldier or the entertainment? Please, gods, tell me the entertainment.” A harsh tug pulled her back towards him, but she planted the heel of her boot into the ground, stopping her from crashing into him.
Her heart pounded as anger rose to her chest. “Let me go.” Her tone was a warning.
“Definitely not the entertainment,” one of his companions said from behind him. “Come on, we can have some fun before we all go into battle, right? Who knows if we will even make it out alive.”
The man loosened his grip but didn’t let her go.
For the past several weeks, she’d been fighting for her life, and here, these little boys were flirting with her like some brothel girl. They had no idea what she had been through, and even if they did, something told her that they wouldn’t care.
“Hey! Let her go!” Sweet Illyan came to her rescue, except she didn’t need nor want it.
They looked at them, and with condemnation, they laughed.
“No, Illy, I got it.” Illyan was by her side when she spoke. Her hand ripped away from the human male’s hold.
“Let us make a little wager, hmm?” she continued, taking a step toward them. “I’ll give you whatever it is you desire. If, and only if, you can beat me one-to-one.”
The human male licked his lips, stepping toward her. He was taller, as were all of the men here, and likely felt that gave him an advantage the way he tilted his head down to his chest, a smile lining his face. “Whatever I want, huh? What if I said the three of us wanted you at the same time—”
“Deal.” She cut him off and brushed past him. “Training area, then?”
“Aza…” Illyan called to her, but she didn’t stop.
You will all fucking pay. Every single one of them for what they put her through. What they put Zhal through. While these boys hadn’t directly done anything wrong, they had found the caged lioness set free, and they were going to feel what it was like to be in its way.
The first one went down with ease. As she suspected, they took her as a joke, fumbling at her with a half-ass swing that she dodged without a thought.
It had landed them a broken nut sack and muddied clothes.
When the other two watched her crack her neck and settle into her battle stance, they knew to be warier.
To be fair, they never had a chance. One of them came at her with his fist clenched, ready to punch her square in the chest, but she caught it with ease and brought him to his knees using his own momentum.
The surprise was enough to make her the victor.
Except she was going to teach them all a lesson, and with no remorse, she slammed her knee into his face.
It sent him falling back, curling into a ball, and trying to find air to fill his lungs.
She was beginning to draw attention from the camp, all of which began to circle around them. Most of them wore the symbol of the Order, a shield and sword across the king’s emblem; a dove with a crown.
How fucking stupid.
They were cheering on their fellow soldiers, egging them on to go harder and not to hold back just because she was a woman.
Azahara hadn’t even broken a sweat when the third came at her, swinging straight for her face this time. She bent her back just as the swing crossed over her. An extended leg flew up and kicked him in the face, causing him to stumble.
Before he could recenter himself, a swift kick to his chest sent him flying backward into the training dummies. A whimper of pain bellowed from the rubble.
The three were now subdued, but she was far from being done.
“Anyone else?” she called out to the crowd as she removed her light jacket, exposing her arms and fitted shirt.
“I just beat the shit out of your comrades. You going to allow it?” Her arms extended outward, pacing around the open training space.
Some looked on in fear, and others looked at one another in curiosity. She licked her lips and rolled her shoulders, feeling them pop. “Don’t be scared now.”