The Other Rogers

Chapter 40

The orange and purple sunset stretched over the horizon. The fresh air was addictive, the smells and taste, it was something people lived for.

In the expanse of green there were more hues than anyone had ever named, yet here they were for any eye to see. The land rolled as it always had, as if it felt that time and space were one thing, that it rolled through the ages as much as to the horizon.

Over it was laid a path, one that branched through the open landscape, and as one began to walk there was a frisson of joy for all the choices to come, each one of them laden with discoveries.

Being in Hydra for so many decades, Anya had forgotten how wonderful and spontaneous nature could be.

A few months prior, the countryside had been put to sleep under a blanket of white. The boughs had glistened with frost; the air had been silent and cold. It had been odd to see the fields so quiet, the goats hiding in the warm barns and pens instead of roaming.

But now, the countryside laid before Anya like a divine fingerprint, curving and changing, no two parts the same. In all the world this view was unique, such is the way of the organic world. The dip and sway of the land, the patterns and species of flora, every changing sky and wind.

Every day was a new snapshot in time, for even this one place, this view from one fine oak tree on a hill, could never be the same two days in a row. Little by little the seasons would bring changes.

Anya's mind wandered back to the far away city, her old home, it had its rhythms too, the start and ending of school years, the vacations of summer and the winter festivals. Yet the countryside had a way of reminding her that she wasn't apart from nature, but a part of nature.

Often on these travels she'd reach out to touch the bark of the trees as she passed or feel the softness of new leaves...

Anya stood to the side of the hut, breathing in the fresh air. James and she had enjoyed the last few years in peace. They still helped her brother out when they were needed, but in all honesty, they were never really needed, it would seem that her brother couldn't handle not seeing them on a regular basis.

Over the last two years a lot had happened. Hydra had come back with a bite, which was more than their usual bark; their intentions could have sent the world into a spiral.

Luckily, they as usual never succeeded; Anya wasn't alone in that fight, T'Challa and his people were there helping along. They had a common cause; Hydra had ruined enough lives as it was, but to take the life of the King of Wakanda on the whim of a man who cried for his criminal father.

The soft bleating of her goats brought Anya back to the present.

Stevie was gnawing on the leg of her pants, drooling over the material.

Humming back at the goat, she watched as T'Challa approached her along with Okoye and a few guards. Sighing, she knew that the time of her peace was over. She had been nervous for the last few days as James had gone back to the states to see Steve on his own as Dugan had passed away.

T'Challa had asked her to stay behind as there was a few people who were gravely ill and injured, and the king had hoped that she would be able to ease their suffering.

She could hear them from where she stood, waiting patiently for them to reach her.

"You'll have the Kings-guard, and the Dora Milaje have been alerted." Okoye's soft voice carried through the wind, her spear never touching the ground.

T'Challa's sigh caused the hairs on the back of Anya's neck to stand. "And the Border Tribe?"

"Those that are left."