Brother of the Desert Rats

A Wild Ride

Several days had past, and Zaelan felt more worn out than he had ever been in his whole entire life. The training was not more difficult than the training he had been put through in the city of Rune, but Zaelan had been healthier then. Now his whole body would protest at every movement. And worse than the aching joints and tenderness of the healing welts, was the high pitched ringing in his head that would sometimes rise to a frequency that would drive any man mad.

It wore on Zaelan mentally just as the scars of his body wore him out physically. At the end of the day, Zaelan would fall into a heap on his bed, so tired that his body seemed to become paralyzed. His only solace and refuge, were the distorted dreams that the drelusion leaf offered him. For without it, he could not find peace even in his sleep. He was haunted by the bloody body of his officer, and Zarek's silent betrayal. Zaelan was not even sure who he resented more.
His father for giving him false hopes and lying to him, before turning his back and abandoning him, or to his childhood friend who had been a brother to him.

They had both been people who should have been by his side to the end, but instead, they had both left him when he needed them the most. The hurt and sorrow, had now begun to turn into a bitter anger. He hated the both of them for what they had done, and deep down, he knew he could never forgive them.

He paused in his steps, slowly bending to place the heavy bucket of water onto the ground. He leaned against it, breathing heavily, as his head seemed to spin. In the distance, he heard Vym and Vadd calling out to him. But the noise dimmed, as his mind became louder. Staring down at his hands, he saw it. Drops of crimson red, running down his fingers.

Crying out aloud, he plunged both hands into the bucket of water, trying in vain to wash the torrents of blood from his skin.

"There's no point. It won't go away."

The voice pierced his mind like a lance, and he slumped back, breathing hard. His eyes stung and he realised then that his face was wet with tears. Glancing up, he saw her. His master was standing over him, a look of cold bitterness upon her face.

"You can scrub your hands until the skin is raw," she told him. "But the blood won't wash away, It's all in the mind. It is better to just ignore it. And one day, it may fade."

"You see it too?" Zaelan asked, his voice still shaking from the fear.

"Sometimes. Always when least expected...always when you think it is finally gone." She reached out her hand and pulled him to his feet. "But don't misunderstand me. I pulled through it. I don't want you slacking just because your mind conjures up all kinds of horrors. Go give the water to my horses, before I make you face far worse ones."

Zaelan shuddered. But as he walked away from her, he could not help but wonder if she was really that cruel. So far, she had seemed all bark and no bite.

He opened the gate and pushed the horses firmly back as they nudged at him, trying to stick their heads into the bucket of water. They followed close behind as Zaelan walked over to the trough, and emptied the water into it. He stepped back to watch them, as they playfully head butted each other to drink first. Once again, he was reminded of his beloved Leal. Would he be doing alright? He hoped his father would let the stallion remain in his stables. And knowing his dear little sister, Maya would probably often sneak out an apple to him or even take him for a quick ride, as a favour to her older brother. Zaelan wished now that he had not taken his sister for granted so often. How often had he teased her, especially when he caught her gaze lingering on his tall handsome friend a mite too long. Zaelan regretted it all, as he saw her blushed embarrassed face.

Now he could never apologise to her and tell her he had met no real harm. That he had been foolishly playing about, and had been too proud to apologise back then. And his mother too. Zaelan remembered many angry words that he had snapped at her after a long hard day's work. He had said many horrible hurtful things in heated moments. Was it too late now? Would he never be able to bow down and beg her forgiveness? Could he never tell them that he loved them both dearly?