Home Sweet Home Pt.2

Azariah startled awake, her lungs filling with smoke that filtered in through the tent flaps. It was dark and thick circling around the ceiling carrying the frantic screams from outside. Every sense was alert immediately. She pushed away the furs piled atop her. Not a single thought was spared for her lack of clothing beyond basic coverings that hid her most intimate parts. Coughing while navigating her messy floor to break out into the open skies; spear in hand eager to find home in the breasts of their enemies. The ground beneath her feet trembled with what could only be an exodus. Her people running for their lives beneath the ivory moon that shed no tears for the reckoning that had finally come to lay its claim.

Brilliant orange and gold flames leapt into the air painting the image of the village on fire in flashes too vivid to be a dream. Her honeyed gaze flickered with every ember drifting its way into the sky. Another piece of her heart reduced to little more than soot in the wind. The poisonous stench brought about by violence unbidden laced her tongue and it took little more for her to turn, running as fast as her feet would carry her, to her mother's tent. The closer she grew, the more screams that clawed against her ears, the beckoner begging for a release from whatever suffering had been set upon them. A peaceful tribe tossed into the throws of war with nothing to keep them but the men and women appointed protectors.

Another scream ripped through all the others. Men on horses trampling over men and women, seeing their tents on fire. Akachi was held beneath one of their arms, kicking and screaming as he was being carried away from Fecchi who was on her knees with a sword sticking out her stomach. Still she used her spear to push herself up off the ground—the blade not deep enough to kill.

Akachi cried out Azariah's name when he spotted her. More armed soldiers blocking Fecchi or her to getting any closer to help.

The movement was so quick the nearest soldier barely had time to reach for the hilt of their sword when the pointed end of Azaeriah's spear ran through their throat. She kicked them off not waiting for their body to even hit the ground before she was swinging left and right. The blunt end meeting whatever chink in their armor she could find: a shoulder, the base of a spine instantly crippling the soldier.

For every one she took down there seemed another ready to replace their fallen ally. There wasn't a moment to relish in the blood of her enemies that coated her hands. Using the nearest body, Azariah leapt off their body, propelling herself over their heads. She sprang from shoulder to shoulder until she was over the crowd, her little brother only yards away. Her arm wound back with all of the force she could muster before snapping forward and sending her spear hurtling straight for the horse's legs. "Give him back!" She roared over the madness that raged around them, still giving chase.

The person tore their metal armored helmet off, long white hair billowing in the wind. They didn't hesitate to open their mouth and scream, sending an energy wave knocking her and the spear the opposite way. Akachi took the time to sink his teeth into the man's flesh when the horse rose on its hind legs in terror. The boy flew out his captors grasp, stumbling forward and doing swords meant for their opponents in the field. He weaved between legs, heart thundering in his chest at the horrid sight of war he'd once been so eager to see. A person, he couldn't tell man or woman by how gashed their face was, whimpered for him to help, gurgling on their own blood. But the fear kept him going without the need to stop crossing his mind.

Ekkon swooped him up. "I got you boy." He said out loud, shielding a sword with a metal wristband. He'd skilfully manage to get to Azariah, yanking her up off the ground by her arm. "Go, go. Run to the forest. There's some row boats there. Your mother is defending the entryway of the island."

Azariah's ears rang from the screech that knocked her away. The deep baritone of Ekkon's voice somehow drowned out the resonating white noise in her head. She may have been a stubborn, overly confident, self assured pain but even she knew this was no time to argue. "Keep her safe." Needless to say she entrusted the man with her mother's life.

She grabbed hold of Akachi's hand, not even pausing for a goodbye. Together with her brother she half dragged him through bushes and brambles into the darkened forest. The canopy above them muted the sounds of battle behind them. The two knew the wood like the back of their hands from days spent playing amongst the trees. Azariah led him weaving through the dirt until they reached the river where the boats awaited them. "We must hurry. Be brave. I'm here with you."

The boy could barely keep up even though he usually ran fast. However, he'd never been this terrified in his life. The last brushes of crimson moon-set had darkened into a bluish black which matched the dark waves he could see in the distance between the spaces of the tree trunks. Stars glittered, and he wished upon them that Jaharra and their people would be safe. He couldn't help but feel like a coward running to safety while everyone stayed behind to fight.

"Do you think they'll win?" Akachi said in the dead cold of the night. His breath coming out in clouds of white. The skies foretold another storm; it was the season for snow and relentless icy rain and gales. Before he could ask another question that popped in his mind, another shout filled the air; the tree ahead of them snapped in half and crashed down. Dirt and rocks went every which way, some had cut into his cheek, and the brown clouds got into his eyes to the point they stung and watered.

A horse neighed loudly. "You won't make it to that boat tonight. I guarantee it." A voice that was not too low or too high for a man.

The second blast made her grip loosen on her brother but before the worst could reach him beyond a few rocks and debris, she'd covered his body with her own. One eye closed, squinted against the dirt that clouded her vision while the other focused on their pursuer. She forced herself into a stand. Her spear was gone but that didn't mean she'd let this man have his way. Azariah grabbed him and pushed him behind her, keeping herself between her brother and the soldier.

The only job her mother had given her if something like this were to happen was to protect Akachi. "Are you satisfied to slaughter innocents because they wouldn't become pawns?" She spat into the grass. Tucked within her bosom was a dagger that she kept hidden carved from the bones of fearsome beasts that once roamed their lands. It was held out in defense while she steadily pushed Akachi along to where she heard waves crashing against the shore. Their escape was so close.

"I have my reasons." Said the man, his long white hair catching the winds drift. The shadows danced upon the edge of his face as he walked closer toward them, but it seemed he wasn't foolish enough to get too close. He had copper colored eyes with an amethyst ring around the irises. They glowed in the night like fireflies. "The right hand man of your mother should be the one you point your dagger to. The old crippled man with the blind right eye. He gave a few weaknesses in return to spare his life." Right when he mentioned dagger, he lifted a hand, chanting a few words and it flew from whatever sheath she had it in, into his own hand. Though he disregarded it in some brush a few feet away.

He didn't need a weapon when he was a weapon. Opening his mouth, a screech sent another blast her way. It was like a large fist. Trees exploded and the wind gusted their way.

The air was knocked from her lungs and this time Azariah struggled to get back up. Her body wouldn't move like she needed it to when her mind was focused solely on blocking Akachi from the worst of it. One of her ears felt strange and she was sure that it bled, the eardrum ruptured from the blast. She didn't care. Her hands shook, crawling over to her little brother to wipe his eyes clear, leaning down to touch her forehead to his. Still she used her body as a shield, cradling him closer, arm wrapped around his ears protectively. There was no way that Ekkon would betray them. But hadn't he been the one so intent on fighting? Hadn't he been the one to push them away from everyone else where they would be sitting ducks?

Azariah refused to believe the lies spewed by some filthy devil who wanted to twist their minds and souls for their own whims. She gently brushed dirt from her brother's hair and eyes as if they weren't awaiting death. "I will fight you even if all I have left are my teeth. Stay back." But what could she do with the boy in her arms and nowhere to shelter him? Whatever was to come she didn't want Akachi to bear witness too. War changed people and he was still just a boy.

"I respect you as a brave fighter, but sadly I'll have to fight you unfairly because my time is running short." He raised a flute like instrument, though it was different with all the grooves and sigils engraved in its silver surface. Blowing and slipping his fingers over the holes atop, the wind picked up once more, a crimson and amethyst mist similar to the ring around his irises sought both her and her brother out. It wrapped around her neck and squeezed; Akachi gasped and sputtered but he collapsed before she did, his head bumping against her front as he fell unconscious.

And then, the white hair man was moving closer. The music blasted louder, swirling around the trees with a presence of magick. The invisible notes lifted her into the air and slammed her against a tree so hard it knocked her unconscious.

***

Azariah awoke to the sound of hooves clipping along and the telltale jostle of a carriage. Her body, which was sore from being tossed like a rag doll, let her know she was still alive. Though when she tried to sit up, move her arms, kick, anything. Nothing happened. There were no physical bindings that she could see so it could only be the work of magick. Across from her Akachi lay quietly, chest rising and falling in the rhythmic pattern of sleep.

"Check on them and be careful, the woman is dangerous. Give them three sips of water and a piece of bread." The white haired man's voice was familiar, but he was somewhere in the front. The carriage jolted to a stop and someone opened the latches on the side door before yanking on the magick that bound her wrist. She came toppling over and onto the ground from inside. This man looked to be in his early thirties, a receding hairline that left only a patch of white and black hair on the front of his bald head.

He put the cup up to her mouth. "Drink wench."

The Kovyan woman wanted to spit fire in the face of her captor for such disrespect; they came sullying their lands and bids for peace, now daring to mishandle the children of an Anabwei. Had it been her own well-being at stake, Azariah would have torn through his flesh with her teeth as she promised the white haired man before.

Bare knees ground into the dirt as she positioned herself better to take a few sips of water, hoping the rest would be reserved for her brother. For now she would save her strength until she better understood what they were dealing with, until the right moment approached.

The white haired man jumped down from the front of the carriage and rounded the corner, his arms behind him, hands laced. "Do you have to use the bathroom? If you don't feel like eating either, back in you go."

"Give me the bread." She raised her hands expectantly. If they were willing to feed them that meant they needed them alive. Good. Although a hard piece of bread would do little beyond stave off the worst hunger pains depending on how far and fast they traveled. "I don't need to relieve myself just for your wicked friend here to get any ideas. Everyone knows pale devil men only think with their pricks."

"I would've thought your mother's teachings, your great Anabwei, would've taught you all pale men don't think with their pricks. All brown devils and pale men have their sins. You reek of blood and point the finger. Innocent people were killed by your hand two days ago." Said the white haired man calmly. He closed his leather coat by buttoning the top and turned around the opposite way.

The man who had the cup to her mouth poured the rest on top of her head and punched her in the throat. "How's that for thinking with my prick you little bitch?" He whispered this ever so quietly, then gave her a moldy corner of the bread he held in his hand. "Share that with your brother and tell him the water ran out. If or when he wakes up."

Azariah took the punch with a quiet grunt. Her airways constructed before loosening again allowing her to draw in a deep breath. Cold water trailed down her exposed skin in rivulets which only deepens her loathing for the bald one. Full lips parted to release a cold, breathy laugh lacking any real humor. She didn't wait for permission to climb back into the carriage side awkwardly, moldy bread still safe within her grasp. She had nothing left to say.

Yes, her mother taught them that all people were equal regardless of skin. Azariah believed it wholeheartedly or else how could she ever claim to love her little brother? But intuition told her the bald one could be provoked. He was already angry. It would only take the right words here and there to let his ally see his true nature. Something that seemed wouldn't sit well with a man of his sort. "Your fist thinks for you instead," The corners of her mouth curled into a smirk. "Maybe you aren't so bad, baldy."

"Neither are you. Most would be over there looking like your brother." He shoved her back into the carriage and locked the door from the outside.

Her brother shifted awake, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't feel good." He muttered.

"Probably the side effect from the magick. Is anything broken?" Her wrists and legs were still bound together leaving her incapable of embracing him as she wanted to. Azariah looked him up and down checking for blood but he only had a litter of small bruises from the blasts.

Akachi shook his head and looked over at her. For some reason he wasn't bound, maybe cause they thought he wasn't a threat compared to her. "Did mom die? Is everyone okay?" There was clear panic in his eyes.

Azariah quirked a smile. "Everyone is okay. I think they only came for us which means they just wanted mom's help that badly. We will be fine." She reassured him. "It also means we will be kept alive. She will come for us." Her palms opened to reveal the molded corner of bread given to her.

"Here. Eat this." If only she'd kept herself in check then he would have water as well. Instead she was wearing it. "You will need your strength and your wits."

The moment Akachi saw the offered bread, he snatched it from her hand and gobbled it down so quickly it was as if it hadn't existed in the first place. He yawned afterwards, laying his head in her lap and frowning. "That doesn't mean they are safe. You don't have to lie to me. I know you're worried too." Thunder boomed beyond the carriage and he could hear the pitter patter of icy rains hitting the outer roof that domed over their heads, keeping them slightly warm. His eyes stared at the fogged window, fingers running through the curls of his hair. The very thing he hated so much.

"You know that magick spell mother taught you?" He asked in a hushed manner.

Of course she was worried. Especially when they'd potentially been betrayed by the very person her little brother looked up to the most. But she wouldn't show him her concern or how deeply troubling those thoughts were because Ekkon couldn't have been the only one. Instead her arms draped around him, leaning down to kiss his head. "You don need to worry about such things. I am your big sister so let me shoulder those burdens. You only need to worry about keeping well."

She knew the spell he spoke of, the one that would let them use water as a portal to communicate with someone else. They didn't use magick leisurely and Azariah had never had much use for it until now. "Clever boy." She praised, turning her attention to the fogged window. In the quiet she whispered the words, index finger painting invisible sigils in the air. There Azariah stares intensely waiting to see the image of her mother.

"Mére," the woman called quietly.

The beads swirled on the window before the reflection turned into the face of their mother. She was bloody and Feechi and Ekkon were at her sides. Feechi sighed in relief when she'd seen Azariah's face, and Ekkon leaned closer to whatever water source they were using to communicate with them.

"We were waiting for you, I knew you'd contact soon. Is Akachi with you?" Ja'harra asked, though she remained calm even though this was every mother's fear. Their children being taken from them. "Do you know where they're taking you?"

Akachi sat up swiftly, his big head in front of the window. "Ja'harra, you're alive!" He beamed and she gave a warm smile.

Azariah's gaze flicked to Ekkon before she focused on her mother. "We're both here I'm sure you can see now. I don't know where we're going. We're in the back of a carriage. A mage with white hair took us." She sat up to peer over her brother's bushy curls. "And you all are safe? The last I saw Fecchi she had a sword in her belly and Ekkon tried to save us."

Ja'harra's honey eyes narrowed and her lips twitched angrily at their corners. "One of Ragnar's men. The White Viper. His venom and betrayal knows no bounds save for the person he's working for. And even then, sometimes they can bite the hand that tosses them a good coin."

The carriage jolted to a stop and Jaharra's reflection wavered before vanishing completely. Only the fog and the storm beyond the glass window visible. The door tore open and she was yanked out once more by her magick bond, leaving her brother scrambling after her to see if she was alright.

"We walk from here." Said the balding man that punched her in the throat.