[center][h1][color=mediumseagreen] A Garden of Doubt[/color][/h1] [h3][color=Navajowhite]Chapter IV - Loss of Heart[/color][/h3][/center] [hr] He did not dream. Instead, Zayd woke with a jolt, feeling a mix of betrayal and sadness. He looked around but she was gone. Not even the coals of the fire were smoldering. How long had he been asleep? Zayd got to his feet, moving his arms in a circle and stretching them out. He was amazed that they felt fine, maybe a little sore but by all accounts he should have lost them. Even his chest… Where was his shirt? After a quick sweep, he found his belongings and… A small pile of berries. He frowned and then his stomach grumbled. He was hungry, and thirsty. Not one to let food go to waste, he took the berries and began to eat them as he looked for the old sword. He found it sitting against the rock wall, still coated with black blood. He touched it, feeling the dry texture and how smooth it was. There was something very strange to it, unnatural as the beasts had been. He looked around for their corpses but could only find two black spots on the ground. Had they burned away to nothing? He shook his head and made the for exit. A cool breeze was blowing the scent of early spring, that wonderful aroma of budding flowers and growing grasses. The light was near midday, just enough for him to cover his eyes so that they might adjust. Had the light always been so blinding, he wondered, stepping out and making his way up the vines. He would need to get home quickly, as he was sure his family were worried for him and he did not know for how long he had been sleeping. Once he reached the top he finished off the last of the berries and made a quick stop at a nearby stream to drink some of the water. It was pleasant and he drank his fill, washing his face of grime and dirt before continuing on. He tied the sword to his cloth belt, the weight of it alien against his leg at first but that feeling disappeared as he made his way on. The trip let his thoughts wander back to the plant girl. That kiss… He didn’t even know her name, which was unfortunate. He would have liked to know, or maybe to have seen that smile again but she was gone and Zayd had a feeling he would not see her again. Perhaps it was for the best, perhaps it wasn’t- he still felt guilty all the same. Like he could have done more for her. Shown her the land, given her another hiding spot, kept her company… He shook his head. He was getting ahead of himself, fantasizing about what never would be. No, it would just be a story that he could not tell anyone about. Not his family, not his future wife, not his future kids. Not even grandkids. Partly because he couldn’t speak and for the fact he felt as if something like that got out, it could cause trouble. She was being hunted by something. Those demons… They were not natural, they were not of Oraliyah or the gods. What could have even wanted her? It made him angry to even think about it. He couldn’t do anything to help her. She would just fade from his memory. Like a forgotten dream, wanting to be remembered, so desperately. No! He would not forget her, he could not forget what she did for him. Never. At least the forest was lively. Zayd cleared the woods as he tightened his resolve of that smile of hers, the memory of his savior’s kiss. He would remember it and think fondly of her. As he continued on, his eyes caught the open fields of his home and… Smoke on the horizon. A great plume of it, thick and dark. Why were they having a fire that large, at this hour? Unless… Oh no! Zayd broke into a sprint, letting the wind whip through his hair. His earlier fears washed away in a torrent of like a raging river, unleashed by this new fear. This ever growing thing that threatened to consume him forever. He had been a fool! If those demons had found him then what’s to say they wouldn’t have found his home! His lungs felt like they were going to burst, like he was going to pass out. He was pushing himself too much, too soon but what else was there to do? He ran and ran and as he approached, he was welcomed by horrors. The fields were burned out, their livestock was slaughtered or missing and the smell of death was pungent. It made him want to vomit and he almost did but he sucked it down and pushed on, slower now. He was shaking, he couldn’t even call out to see if anyone was there. Not that he could hear anything but the crackling of wood. As he stepped onto the long, well worn path to the homestead, he found it was littered with dried blood, broken pots, splintered wood, tattered clothes and burned out fires. He spotted several black spots, the same as were in the cave and he felt his spine shiver. He took out his copper sword, trembling within his grasp. This was his home, it shouldn’t- it couldn’t look like this. As he approached the homestead proper, his heart grew heavy at the amount of destruction. The first few houses, his uncles houses, were completely burned to ash and timbers as he walked up into the center. It was then his eyes caught sight of something closer towards the middle. He didn’t know what he was looking at first but his mind began to put the pieces together as he drew closer, like his mother when she would sow. Slow but always coming toge- He threw up. The pungent smell of berries clouding his senses as tears filled his vision. Before him, suspended by pikes of wood through their throats and stomachs, was his father and uncles. At their feet lay a pile of pale corpses. His boy cousins, around his age and a bit younger, perhaps older. A few of his aunts and girl cousins were there as well. Stripped naked, bodies clawed, some chewed to pieces and others with their throats slit. All with vague eyes, open and cloudy, looks of pain and fear. Of ending. Zayd couldn’t breath. He felt like he was choking. He wretched again in his panic, then dry heaved until he gasped for air. When he at last caught his breath, he rebounded and ran off, stumbling in the direction of his home. He found it. The roof was caved in, and the doorway was little more than just a gaping hole. He worked his way inside, shuffling around the debris and moving them when he could. The family room was broken apart, like the wind had come and blown everything to one side. He pushed on, towards the sleeping room and found a great amount of dried blood there. It coated one wall and the floor, staining sheets, pillows, and blankets that dark crimson color of suffering. He fell to his knees, then tossed his sword at a wall. It clanged and hit the dirt floor with a thud. Zayd then gripped his head and shut his eyes, wishing to wake up from the nightmare. [hr] With the last body wrapped, and carefully laid on the pyre with the others, Zayd cast a torch and let his family rest. Nothing was really the same. He barely ate, barely drank- just went on with his motions. Preparing the dead for the fire, keeping the birds away, dealing with the smell, the bloating, the warmer days. Time didn’t really matter to him, for he felt nothing. And if one did not feel, then why would one care? He did what any good man would do, what was expected of him. He should have buried them but the stink was attracting too many animals. They would not eat and defile these corpses, no. Thus he burned them and as he watched, fire reflecting in his hazy eyes, Zayd knew not what to do next. He did not find any others in his family. His mother, brothers, sisters. They were missing and so were most of his younger cousins and his aunts. Who would have taken them? Slavers? No… Even slavers were not that cruel and this land was free, protected by… Where were the soldiers of the Hash’Lahan? Of Artikulah? The curious eyes of the passersby? The Coven of Omun? Where was his help? Where was any help? Why did no one save them… Why didn’t he save them? Because he ran away… Like a coward unable to accept responsibility. His father was right. He was no soldier. He would be no great warrior. His dream of bringing honor to himself and his family were burning right before him. He remembered her smile and he paused where he stood, looking out over to distant lands. His shoulders slumped and he grimaced. He was not worthy of that smile. For he who could not protect his family from wolves, deserved nothing. For he was nothing. He was worthless, a leech that persisted on despite knowing it should be dead. With staggered feet, he began to withdraw from the fire, walking back to his home. His gaze could not stomach looking at anything around him. The broken houses bringing forth the memories of better times. Now there was nothing but pain here, that was the only truth he knew. Pain and the memories of better times. A constant reminder. He didn’t want to stay but where would he go? This was all he had known. There was really only one thing left for a person that had brought shame, dishonor, and failure to his own name. He walked past his home and fell upon his knees in the tall grass. He pulled his father’s dagger from his belt and looked upon it. It was one sided, long as his hand and tarnished. Zayd had found it in the house, unused but well kept. Now, it would be used. He looked up at the sky, tears beginning to fall down his face. He hoped his family would forgive him. He hoped they would not suffer at the hands of fate. His hands were calm as he brought the blade to his neck and pressed the bladed side to his throat. He thought of his savior and hoped that she would find her way. He felt something hot trickle down his throat as he closed his eyes, breathing deep and prepared a fitting end for the coward he was. He thought of a memory, he wanted to think of his savior as the last thing he saw but instead, he remembered a time when his baba was still alive. Down at the river, where he was teaching Zayd how to fish. It had been right after he lost his tongue and his spirits had faltered. Baba told him with kind eyes, “Zayd, you must not let this take your spirit. Remember this always, what we lose, makes us stronger. In ways that might not be seen by the naked eye, or known by the mind but,” He had poked Zayd in the chest, “What is felt by the heart.” Zayd snapped his eyes open and the blade slipped from his fingers, landing in the grass before him. He heaved, and placed his head on the grass as he cried again. What was he doing? Why was he giving up so easily? He had family out there somewhere, afraid and alone and he was just going to kill himself? He would die trying but he would find them and he would bring justice to this senseless act. He had to. It was the only thing that ushered in a new purpo- “Are you alright?” The voice startled Zayd and he shot up. A man stood before him, gripping tight to the reigns of a massive bird. A terrakin! It’s body was sleek, kept up by two powerful legs with great talons. It’s neck rose up above them, leading to a large crushing beak and rows of red and yellow crest feathers. It looked on edge and the man too, looked uneasy. This man, who wore an old brown shirt and tan pants. Black beard, tinged with silver, large and bushy upon a slim face with high cheekbones and inquisitive eyes. He wore a cap of black upon his bald head. “Are you hurt? What happened here?” He asked, standing still. Zayd got to his feet, leaving the dagger on the ground. He looked over his shoulder and then back to the man and shook his head. He then pointed to his throat and opened his mouth to show him. The man gave a thin frown in return. The kind his father had given him when he had been disappointed. It was both comforting and humiliating. “I noticed the smoke a day ago. Then a new fire this morning. Was this place your home?” Zayd nodded as his face twisted with emotion. Then he placed his hands atop his head and paced back and forth. It had been his home, now it was just broken wood and embers. The man looked past him, then back to him with a slow nod. “There are strange things happening in this land. Tales of mass death and blood sacrifices.” He shook his head. “Ah, I should not trouble you further. Come on then. By Oraliyah’s light I won’t leave you here by yourself. You look starved boy and these nights, one can never be too careful alone. I have a home half a day’s journey away from here, if we leave now, we might make it before dark.” Zayd breathed through his nose, and looked back at his home. He steeled himself, this would not be the end. He would return with those he could save, no matter what. For now, the man’s invitation would be enough. He would get his strength back and rest, then his journey would begin. He turned back and nodded, picking up his dagger and putting it in his belt. That was all he needed. “Have you ever ridden on a terrakin before?” the man asked as he approached. Zayd eyed the bird and it eyes him back and he shrank, quickly shaking his head. “Not to worry, old Itern is calm. Calmer than most, at least. Let me help you up.” After a bit of reprehension, Zayd was on the bird, sitting closest to its neck. He didn’t know where to grab so he wrapped his arms around its neck. The bird’s head came down and with a mighty clack, it startled Zayd enough and he almost fell off if not for the man steadying him. He chuckled aloud. “Itern doesn’t like constriction around his neck. Grab on to the larger feathers in front of you and hold on. Terrakin are quick.” Once Zayd had done that, he peered over his shoulder at the man. “No sense in waiting then. Itern! Home!” At once, the terrakin lurched forward and with mighty leaps, as if it was more flying then running, they were off. Zayd shut his eyes tight, holding on for dear life as the man laughed deep behind him. “The name’s Nadir, by the way.” he shouted over the wind. “And you are most safe now.” [Hider=Summary] Zayd wakes up in the cave, the plant girl is gone but she left him some snacks. He’s feeling good after almost dying and heads home. But sees smoke on the horizon. When he gets home, it’s a mess and it looks like a battle took place. He then finds a pile of his dead family and breaks down. He then burns them all and almost kills himself a few days later before a memory of his baba stirs him to hope again and a stranger arrives, whisking him away from the nightmare. [/hider] [hider=MP] Zip. [/hider]