EXILE (PT.4)
937 Words
But she did not give them that.
She kept walking.
Because if she stopped, she might turn around. And if she turned around, she might not leave quietly.
And right now, quiet was the only thing she had left.
Camron followed behind her. Not close. Not far. Watching. Not interrupting. For once.
The village thinned as they moved toward the edge, the homes growing smaller, quieter, more spaced apart. Less important. Less seen.
That was where her hut stood.
Of course it was.
Azaliyah stopped in front of it.
For a second, just a second, her expression cracked.
Not visibly. Not enough for anyone else to see. But enough for her to feel it.
Then it was gone.
She pushed the door open.
It creaked louder than it should have.
Everything inside was exactly as she had left it. Simple. Organized. Untouched.
Like her life had been paused, waiting for her to return.
She did not look around much. Did not let herself.
Instead, she walked straight to the back.
There was a small wooden box tucked beneath a shelf.
She crouched and opened it.
Inside was the only thing that mattered.
The amulet.
Gold, worn smooth at the edges. Not flashy. Not outwardly magical. But powerful because of what it held.
She lifted it carefully. Inside rested a small preserved image.
Her mother.
Her father.
Standing side by side. Strong. Respected. Untouchable.
Everything she was supposed to be.
Her throat tightened.
“They used to listen to you,” she muttered softly, staring at the image. “They used to care.”
Her fingers curled around the amulet.
“And now they act like I don’t even exist.”
Silence.
Behind her, something shifted.
“You going to take anything else?” Camron asked, his voice quieter now.
She did not turn around.
“No.”
A beat.
“Nothing else here is mine.”
That was not fully true. But it felt true. And that was what mattered.
She stood, slipping the amulet around her neck and letting it rest against her chest like something steadying.
Then, finally, she turned.
And looked at him properly. Not as a problem. Not as a situation. As a person.
“I didn’t even catch your name,” she said.
He blinked once, as though he had not expected that. Then he straightened slightly.
“Camron.”
She nodded once.
“Azaliyah.”
A pause.
“Figured,” he said.
Her brows lifted.
“Oh, you did?”
He gave a small shrug.
“You look like someone with a name people expect things from.”
She did not answer right away.
Because it was too accurate.
Instead, she turned toward the door.
“Come on.”
“Where are we going?” he asked.
She stepped outside and did not stop walking.
“I don’t know.”
Honest. Blunt. Real.
He followed.
“That’s comforting.”
“Get used to disappointment.”
They walked past the edge of the village.
No one tried to stop them.
No one called her name.
That part, she felt.
But she did not show it.
Instead, she kept moving.
“Where will you go?” Camron asked after a moment.
Her laugh was quiet. Dry.
“Nowhere,” she said. “Everywhere.”
A pause.
“I have power I can’t control,” she added, her voice sharper now, more honest. “No training. No guidance. No one willing to teach me.”
Her eyes flicked toward him briefly.
“Apparently, I’m the problem.”
He did not answer immediately.
Then, “I get that.”
She glanced at him again.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
A beat.
“I don’t fully control my shifts,” he admitted. “Not anymore.”
She slowed slightly.
“Not anymore?”
His jaw tightened.
“It used to be easier.”
That was all he said. But it was enough.
She let out a small breath.
“So what,” she said, her tone edged with dry sarcasm, “you just wander into random realms hoping they don’t fall apart while you’re there?”
“Basically.”
She let out a quiet, humorless laugh.
“That’s insane.”
“Didn’t say it wasn’t.”
Another pause.
Then...
“What happens when they do?” she asked.
His expression did not change. But something behind it did.
“They blame me,” he said simply.
She scoffed lightly.
“Of course they do.”
“They don’t know what I am,” he added. “I show up, things go wrong, magic starts dying...”
“They connect the dots.”
“Even if they’re wrong.”
She nodded slightly.
“Sounds familiar.”
Silence stretched between them again. Not uncomfortable. Just heavy.
Then she exhaled.
“So going back to wherever you came from...”
“Not an option.”
She nodded once.
“Yeah.”
Another step.
Another.
Then she glanced at him sideways.
“So I guess this is happening.”
He looked at her.
“What is?”
She shrugged slightly.
“This.”
A small gesture between them.
“You. Me. No plan. No home.”
A beat.
“Great,” she added dryly.
He let out a quiet breath that might have been a laugh.
“Yeah.”
Another pause.
“Well,” she said, adjusting the amulet against her chest, “guess I’m stuck with you.”
He looked ahead.
“Yeah.”
A second passed.
“Same.”
No smiles. No agreement. No trust.
Just two people with nowhere else to go.
Walking forward anyway.
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