95. Violette
VIOLETTE
“Darling, I’ve never seen you so grumpy.
” With our weapons strapped to our backs, we’re trekking through mountain snow in the early twilight of dawn.
While I may have brought us here, Levi is now the one leading us diagonally downhill.
A mantle he readily took upon his shoulders when we arrived when I looked, and felt, more than a little lost.
I’m not familiar with the mountains or wilderness here, nor survival in the wild.
Yet another shameful reminder of just how lacking I am by syrith standards.
Even so, I'm in no rush to leave it.
As if being in these woods, on this mountain, is nourishing some long forgotten part of me.
Although every step we take brings me that much closer to the city, and father, I escaped.
So long as we are in the mountains, we’re safe from him, and whatever dangers the city presents, and it makes the knot of dread forming in my stomach a little easier to ignore.
For now, I will cherish the burning in my thighs from the effort of wading through knee-deep snow.
With Azrael and Levi’s height, it’s a much less cumbersome task—the snow is only a few inches above their ankles.
In the high altitude we’re in now, the flora surrounding us is short, squat, and sparse.
Azrael’s furrowed brow and accompanying frown are nothing short of adorable.
“I despise the cold.”
His expression softens from behind the fur-lined hood of his coat as I weave my arm around his elbow—gloved hands jammed into his pockets. “I’m sure there are some herbs and flowers I can forage for tea later, after we set up camp.”
I call after Levi, a few feet ahead of us with Azrael’s shadow stalking closely behind. “Would you like a potion to warm your bones, my love?”
Azrael and I are no doubt slowing our progress in finding somewhere suitable to survive for three days.
Levi glances back at us, scowling. “You said no magic.”
I roll my eyes. “Potion. Tea. Same thing.”
We reach a cliffside where Levi pauses, casting keen eyes over the clouds where the aersyans—trees with powers similar to that of telepathy—peek through fluffy white clouds, occasionally breaking up to reveal the lush, evergreen forest in the valley below.
His voice a reverent murmur. “It’s beautiful here. ”
Still arm in arm with Azrael, his shadow in front of us, we pause to revel in the natural beauty before us. Azrael’s discomfort wanes, even if only in this fleeting moment as our collective breaths are stolen.
The grandeur of this place makes my thighs burn a little less.
I can’t help but feel a little pride that this is where half of my lineage is from as a feeling of rightness settles over me.
Like the stars have aligned, and this is exactly where we are all supposed to be, despite my fear of all that lies ahead of us.
Even if only in a purely ancestral way, this place feels like home.
It’s the same feeling I get when I’m near the sea.
Syriths, as far as history can tell, originated here—in these lands. These mountains.
My reply is just as much an affirmation to myself as it is a promise to Levi and Azrael.
“This is just the beginning.”