----------------------------------------

Hands caressed his face, waking him. He opened his eyes and saw his family holding onto him. They softly smiled and promised him safety from the world. Yet, behind them, he could see sable helmets with scarlet visors. The shadows wore pitched cuirasses over silver hauberks. They had on pauldrons, gauntlets, chausses, graves, and boots. Their whole bodies were covered and unduly armoured.

They pulled his family away from him, ignoring their struggles. Then, a figure strode to his lying body. It wrapped its gauntlets around his neck and lifted him, squeezing the air out of his lungs. The touch was rugged and the grip was tight, unlike that of metal.

He began to choke, his eyes set on the bloody visor. They had slaughtered his family, they had ambushed his mum, and now they were strangling the life out of him, the last Zakari.

----------------------------------------

Despite being crusted with lead, his eyelids sprung open. He escaped his nightmare and lay there gasping for his sanity. His body was under pain but it didn’t even occur to him – his mind was busy recoiling from illusory demons.

However, as with everything, time proved to be the best remedy as the material world overcame his imaginary one, flinging him from the pangs of his heart to the throbbing of his wounds. His chest ached with every heave and his limbs stung as if rubbed with salt, then dumped in vats of lemon-water.

He raised his head and peered at his arms, only to smell saline. He would have been nude was it not for the layers of bandages covering him. Someone had treated him, and the only face that came into mind bore a myriad of emotions.

“About time you woke,” she said.

By the stained concrete skyview, Orion could tell he was still in the Korshi’s lair. The stench had either dulled, or his nose had completely given up. From her voice, Orion knew Kora was sitting by the walls. Nevertheless, he had no intention of facing her, instead, he wanted to dig a hole, jump in, then cover it over.

He shouldn’t have let the Korshi use magic. He shouldn’t have attacked her. He shouldn’t have given her time to transform. He should have killed her.

“You can’t curl in anymore, at least not with your condition.” She laughed.

He didn’t reply.

“Jax, are you actually turtling up now?” She sounded shocked.

He gulped, then realised how dry his throat was. How long had it been?

The tension between them grew.

“I’m done with you,” she said sounding helpless. It sounded faux.

The awkwardness became palpable.

“Are… Were you lying when you said you knew…” he choked out, stopping just as the nightmare reappeared.

“Knew why your family got killed? No, I wasn’t,”

His eyes began to water, so he closed them and steeled himself. He couldn’t show weakness in front of her.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

“You were screaming and sobbing before, you know? Definitely not sharing a room with you again,”

Shit.

“Why? Why?” he asked.

“Why I wouldn’t share a room with you? Pfft. Why you were crying? I dunno, probably a sob story on repeat. Or why your family got slaughtered? That’s a bit more complicated,” she said while her voice got louder.

She stood over him and gazed down with pity. Perhaps contempt. She was back in her human form, and there were no signs of the battle on her except for a few faint scratches.

Orion tensed his arm and lifted it so he could stroke his neck. He felt three sets of love bites; the skin was ruptured and the holes were deep, so maybe more hate than love. No wonder he felt so weak and she looked flawless.

“Why did the Empire do it?” he said.

The emotion drained out of her face. “They had to,”

“Why, Kora? WHY?!”

“There’s a war brewing. The monster attacks have gone down, but the casualties per one have gone up.”

“They’re becoming organised,” he said.

“No, something is organising them. Something which the countless races respect and act as thralls for. They call him, it, the Yhaoli. It contacted us, wanted us to help destroy the Empire but we were fine. We liked it the way it was,”

“So were we. We were already the strongest; why would we want to hurt ourselves?!” he yelled.

“Only the Zakari thought the Zakari were the strongest,”

He snorted.

“We might have edged around your House, but that was only because everyone noticed how power hungry your House was,” she said.

“Besides,” she continued, “the House of Zakari wanted the throne. All they needed was an opportunity,”

He sneered and used Giah, his eyes pale as energy coursed in.

She didn’t help him, nor did she scold him for overexerting himself for a mere performance.

“We were the strongest, and all of you knew it in your hearts. You feared us while we lived peacefully. You killed us for the power we held, not for any fictional danger we posed.” He was tearing up by the end, his face flushed, his fists clenched.

She blankly entertained his pride and watched as he stumbled towards his clothes.

“Why did you let me live?” he asked as he slowly dressed, his anger cooling.

“Too many reasons to count, Jax. Why would I kill the last Zakari? I’m a Fullhorn, not a Piros. Besides, you’re too good for me to lose,” Despite facing away from her, she could the sides of his face blush. Sweet Asarte, was he snivelling again? “as a blood-source,”

He blushed even brighter.

Kora smiled. “What are you going to do now, anyway?”

He considered her words, then looked at the layers of bandages – she had been thorough. “I need to get to the Seeker’s Summit,”

She laughed. “What a coincidence, so do I. I guess we can go together.” She worded it as a statement, but it was actually a question. She hoped he’d stay with her for many reasons, not least because he was a great travel companion, but she was doubtful.

He stopped dressing. He was confused at her question, confused at his lack of response, confused at the answers tumbling around his head. I need to become a 5-star Seeker, and she’s strong enough to help me, he eventually told himself. It had nothing to do with liking her, purely a working relationship. Besides, now that she had a taste of his blood, escape was essentially impossible, especially if she went and told her family.

“Yeah,” he said. He was now dressed and equipped, ready to leave when he felt a tight hold on his shoulders, making him cringe and swivel around.

“Are you going out like that?” She pointed at his pale eyes. “Stop using Giah and rest. I’ll wake you up if you get tangled in another nightmare,”

He blushed for the third time but also conceded to her point. Having pale eyes with his Western features would attract too much attention and breaking Giah in public would probably make him collapse again.

He took off his maroon bag and sat by the wall. The white diffused from his iris and pupil as his head fell and banged against the concrete. It took mere seconds before he was back in dreamland.

----------------------------------------