A Warrior's Dance

XXIV – The Warning

Azaiah’s footsteps were in haste as he approached the tent of the chieftain. Zelle quickly trailed, keeping up with his long strides. Two soldiers manned the mouth of the tent and they gave salute to the young prince as he stood before them.

“I would like a word with Daisery,” he ordered, his posture at ease but tough.

One of the guards nodded his head and went inside to deliver the message. Not long after, Daisery emerged from the tent, her lavender robes swayed, dancing with the wind.

“Follow me,” he said and turned away. Ever since the death of his uncle, he felt a lost connection with the Barren tribe. It was not because he believed Sanne did the crime but because he could not accept the idea that someone from her own clan framed her for that horrible act. It was unforgivable.

He walked along the shoreline, gazing at their massive ships, admiring their beauty from a distance. Zelle trailed behind, letting the young captain and Daisery have their talk.

“What does the letter say?” Azaiah said after a while, halting to turned to the girl beside him.

Daisery’s brows furrowed. She hugged herself. “What letter?”

“Just speak it out,” he ordered, shortening their gap. “You received a letter yesterday morning and I know it came from the palace. Crimson palace.”

Daisery started to shake her head, wanting to run, afraid she would find herself the same as Sanne. What happened to her best friend left nightmares in her.

“We are at open war with them and you are exchanging information?”

Her eyes grew at his accusation. “No, you are mistaken! It’s not- “ She cut her words, afraid of the situation.

“I will have you marked as a traitor or you will speak of that letter now.” Azaiah had no time to waste at her cowering.

Daisery’s eyes suddenly was filled with tears, her lips quivering. “My friend is just trying to reach out, that’s all. I swear to Nar Burkan, Prince Azaiah, believe me!”

Only one word registered in his ears. “A friend?”

Sobs escaped from the girl’s mouth. She nodded her head, eyes begging for his understanding.

“Sanne?” he asked with uncertainty.

Once again, Daisery nodded. With that, Azaiah could feel the knot in his stomach loosened, relief washing over him in great waves.

“She sent you a letter? From the palace?”

His reaction was not what Daisery had in mind. Again, she just nodded, lost for words, afraid she would bring harm to Sanne and to her family.

“What did she say?” He laid his hand, asking for the piece of paper.

Daisery quickly pulled out the folded parchment from inside her robe, carefully placing it on his palm.

Azaiah tried to make sense of her writings under the moonlight but failed. He could not comprehend the foreign symbols. “What does this mean?”

She cleared out her throat, watching the other valkans at the far side of the shore, laughing with a mug of drink in their hands. “May I?” she asked, motioning to get the parchment from him. When he gave it back, Daisery started to read it. “I left in haste without a farewell. But I am not welcome to the valkans anymore and they are not welcome in mine. Be careful, my dear Daisery. The only hope I bring with me is Azaiah’s promise to keep father safe and alive. The palace wanted to take our home by force and they will strike soon. Fight if you must. I cannot come back to our island but our people should not be chase away by foreign rulers. Until we meet again, Sanne.”

She’s safe, he thought to himself. Azaiah suddenly felt the rush of blood in his veins, the hope beat wildly in his chest at the thought of Sanne being still alive. He did not risk his life and Zelle’s for nothing then.

“Please,” Daisery’s voice seeped in his ears, her brown eyes seeking his. “I- I know not she will be writing!”

“Hush now, girl,” Aza said, silencing her at once. “Do not speak of this to anyone. Go and burn that letter.”

She nodded, stepping back to retreat. She bowed and walked away, haf-running.

Zelle carefully approached the young captain, watching him closely. He looked elated, his eyes sparkling. A good news, maybe? She hoped so. An Azaiah on a bad mood meant a rude and complicated valkan lad. Someone she would rather not talk to. She looked at his hand, a bandage covering it. A stain of blood could be seen and she could tell it hurt. The wind was a bit warm but she felt a chill ran down her spine by just looking at the young valkan prince. Whether she admitted it or not, the valkan prince was getting under her skin.

"Are you hurt?" Zelle asked after a while, closing in their gap.

Aza did not spare her a look, his eyes wandering far off the vast sea before him. "How well do you know the valkans, Zelle?"

The waves rushed toward them, teasing their feet. Zelle thought for a moment. "My Baba always talk highly of the valkans. He said that no tribe or rcae can match a valkan in the battle in seas. That you are loyal to your blood and to Sun God."

He nodded, considering her words. He stretched his hand, feeling the burn of his wound. "Do you know how we keep a valkan vow?"

She gazed at him, noting the difference when she first met him. His boyish looked almost faded now as stubble slowly forming on his face. “I don’t.”

Azaiah turned to look at her. “We keep it until our last breath. Once we take a vow, we hold it for the rest of our lives.”

Zelle wanted to ask what vow he took but afraid he would lash out again. His temper was one of the things she could never get used too.

He held up his hand, showing the girl the bandage wrapped against it, a hint of red staining the cloth. Zelle’s eyes grew wide, wondering what it was about. “We bleed for our vow using our cutlass. I promised my father that I will sail with the neraides and find my missing brother. In two moons we will sail and I will lead the ship. You are coming with me.”

She nodded her head. “I understand.”

Azaiah crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her, seeing how she held up herself. Thought being branded as a servant by their race, Zelle still had the composure of a warrior. A lady-warrior. “Once we reach Peachrow, you are free to go.”

That made her heartbeat drummed, her cheeks warmed. “Am I really?” She was overwhelmed at his sudden news. She couldn’t count how many times she plotted to escape the moment she was dragged from the temple and dumped into their massive ships. “You’d free me?”

“I have never freed a servant before.” Aza said, looking away from her. He focused his eyes again to the massive ships, letting the elation infiltrate his senses.  “Freedom is what I took from you and I know there is no greater way to pay my debt other than letting you walk away from all of this.”

“How about the fight against the sea serpent?” she asked. “You know I can fight.”

He smirked. “Do you know how to fight that monster?”

“With a sword. Or maybe a fire.” She shrugged her shoulder.

“Only the phoenix’s fire can defeat it.” Aza sighed, dreading the upcoming war. “If you want to fight, then fight along side the Krigers. The neraides said we need a lot of strong arms to hold its force.”

 Zelle felt her lips smiling. Yet as quick as her bliss rushed through, it faded away, realizing she would be walking a different path from him. She must be crazy to think of that but the thought of not seeing him again made her anxious. Especially now that the prince has a mission and vow to uphold.

In two moons, she would be free.

In two moons, she would not see Azaiah, son of Raq, and the rest of the smug look of the valkan tribe.

Yet she felt uneasiness in the pit of her stomach as she followed the trail to where the young prince was looking at. The sea was so calm now, the moon looked bigger than usual, taking its place on the horizon.

In two moons, all races would be fighting the sea serpent. Just then, she felt like Aza just bid her farewell without uttering it out loud.