Korah: Heir of Gnamalea

CHAPTER NINETEEN

~ MARCUS ~

The cold air brought Marcus to wake in the early morning. Korah laid beside him peacefully. Her midnight blue hair spread messily on her pillow and lightly covered her scarred, beautiful eye. Her sleepy figure remained still as he left the warm sheets and left the room and into the sitting room where Marcus already lighted the fire.

His mother sat in her favoured armchair. "I didn't think you'd be up so early", her voice was tired. Like she hadn't slept the night. Her hair was neatly in a bun, with small pieces of her curls framing her face. Her features matched her sons, the same olive skin, dark springs in her hair, but her toffee-brown eyes always brought out their differences. They fit her own mother's, while Marcus' eyes matched his deceased fathers.

"It got cold in my room. I felt like I would freeze if I had stayed in the room any longer. Korah seems to be comfortable, though. I guess living in a burrow for some years of your life, you'd get used to it," he said with a chuckle under his breath.

She lifted a tired smile and extended her hand towards the chair opposite her. Marcus took the seat and faced his mother. Her silence made him aware of her concern. It made him anxious, his stomach filling with an elephant's heavy footsteps. She began with a smile, "I've never seen you like you are with her. It makes me relieved really, I worry about what will happen when you leave, and the consequences that will come with it. You're lucky you've come this far", his mother always had these conversations with him. Every time he'd leave to discretely grab bread from the market from the rather crabby farm owner or to walk the streets with his face on every wooden post. "I just want to know that you are sure you know what you're doing, risking everything for this girl". Marcus knew his answer when he had stepped foot into that burrow, and she threatened to kill him. She was worth risking his own and everyone else's life that filled this pitiful city - and all that surrounded it.

"If you could. Wouldn't you? Even if you got nothing in return, but the fulfilment of succeeding was enough?" his mother smiled.

"And for someone, you would risk of - not only - in success but to also die for the possible improbability of it," she says with a chuckle. She knew how stubborn her son was, and she wouldn't fight him. Standing up, she walked over to Marcus and knelt in front of him. Her eyes were watering with fear for her son. "Please, be for the sake of me, your brothers and your father - may he rest in peace - be careful. I don't want to lose another one of you. I won't have it" his mothers words were stern.

He didn't want to leave his mother to raise the boys independently, but he was still determined. His father had died the night King Tulio was overthrown and murdered. The ruler who had claimed the throne did not dare to show his face or speak for himself or the city's people. King Amatus took the name to give people the impression he was the worlds saviour, the word meaning 'beloved by Theōs'. While that may be unlikely, Marcus thought he was a fool anyway. Where was he?

He kissed his mother's hand and smiled down at her. He pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek before grabbing his coat and left the house. He knew the map of his plan was dangerous, but if it worked the way it was in his head, nothing should go wrong.

                                ~ KORAH ~

Korah's neck was stiff; the pillow held uncomfortable under her head. The scent of pinewood and the brisk air was welcoming. A smile crept on her face as she sat up and observed the room - empty and quiet. The silence was lonely, the feeling becoming more uncommon with the time she'd spent with Marcus. Getting up from the bed, she lifted her robe over her shoulders and around her body, leaving the room to find Alistair and his three other wolves outside the door. She smiled at them and walked into the kitchen to find Nala at the table, tears streaming down her face, holding her head up like she was too weak to stand. She looked defeated, tired. Korah kneeled beside her and stroked her head.

"Is everything okay?" Nahla stayed silent, trying to compose herself. Breathing was a struggle. "Where is Marcus?" Korah asked as she noticed his absence in the house. Nahla looked up at Korah, her eyes filled with worry, tears staining her blotched red cheeks. Her gaze wandered behind her, at the door to the sun and whatever would stand under it. Alejandro and his guards wouldn't have been looking much further with the sizeable fifteen-thousand euro target on Marcus' back and his face across every street. Without thinking any further, she ran back to the bedroom and changed into her stolen pair of slacks and shirt, a corset and belt tight around her skinny waist and her hood hanging from her shoulders, and her Labrys at her right pelvic bone. Ready to leave the room, she noticed the gleaming metal sat on the table across the room: Marcus' moulded sword, a gift from Quill. The fool took nothing with him but his undoubtedly stupid need to go alone. Marcus liked doing that often, quite frankly, leaving Korah hot with rage. She took the blade, the white sun bouncing from the tip of the sword. Korah slides it into the left side of her belt, the crafted wooden end, hard and sharp against her hand. Leaving the room, she walked straight to the room across the dining room and opened it to reveal Azula and Seb's room.

"Oh... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude-"Azula shook her head and smiled.

"You didn't", the two seemed to be in a long and meaningful conversation. The feeling of still guilt remained in the pit of Korah's stomach.

"Marcus left. I don't know what the hell he thinks he's going to achieve, but I know Marcus thinks he has a plan of some sort. The moron thinks by him going alone that he would have a way of doing it on his own". The two change into their clothes quickly and walk out of the room—the growth of guilt spread through Korah. Azula looking pale and tired, looked sick again.

"Maybe you both should stay here", she said, looking down at her friend.

Her eyes told her she should, but too stubborn, she replied with a strong "No. I didn't come this far to stop just because I'm feeling ill. No. It'll go away", her face turned green. She was going to be sick. The signs had been evident to Korah the moment she first saw Azula again. Her appetite had grown, as well as her abdomen. She was in no shape to fight.

"This is a fight you are in no condition to continue. Just stay-"

"Korah. Stop. I'm okay," she said, looking at Seb, who also looked concerned.

"Are you sure? You can barely stand without the thought of-"Azula put her hand on his shoulder. Korah was worried for her friend.

"Seb, I swear if you finish that sentence. My food... won't remain where it is and will be on your slacks instead. So unless you want me to, I suggest we walk out of this house right now, and we go and save that bastard from getting himself killed". Her stern voice surprised them all; the built men stood behind us, watching as Azula opens the front door and waits for everyone to join her. Nicolas and Luis stood at the door, their demand they stay with Nala for protection. Seb walked to Azula's side in a flash, no need for an argument.

Korah walked to the table in the kitchen and knelt beside Nala. The mother's tears dried at her chin.

"I promise you, your son will walk through that door again—this time the freedom of your family and the justice for your husband. Everything will be right again" the woman smiled and pulled her into a hug. The welcoming feeling of a mothers hug was comforting. The whispers she left in Korah's ear left her in shock. The words that came out of the woman's mouth had made her think twice, so quick, thought she'd imagined it. It left Korah confused.

The mother kissed her on the cheek and let Korah go. Her pace was quick out the door, following the group into the streets. Nahla's words; her voice was replaying them again and again.

"Bring them home".