Black Avatare

37 | WILDERNESS

Days passed as Binara and Diyan trekked through the wilderness, squelching on muddied ground for hours on end. As if aching limbs and sore feet weren't bad enough, rain impeded their progress, drenching Binara's spirits until she was nothing short of miserable. Diyan was silent, his face making it clear that he was contemplating the odds stacked up against them.

Due to bad weather, they often had to seek shelter under rocks and makeshift roofs that Diyan assembled with a rubber tarp and whatever he could find. Their supplies dwindled—bread, preserves, nuts and fruits that the kinnaras had prepared. However, water was abundant—from springs that fed ponds and streams. Binara didn't appreciate the icy water, but she went for it anyways, just so she could wash off the dirt.

On the third day, Diyan set up camp next to the stream they had been following since the day before. Thankfully, the drizzling had stopped, and the clouds parted just enough to allow moonbeams to shine through. A cold breeze sang through the clearing, carrying with it the symphony of insects—their music composed of sound and light. The vegetation was darker here, though it retained the characteristic colorlessness of Holmanloke.

"I'm going to the stream," Binara announced, wiping the specks of mud on her jeans. "Or do you want to go first? I actually want to get a sponge bath, so it'll take some time."

"Sponge bath? You can have a proper bath." He started assembling a firepit with rocks and twigs, though the damp was obviously a problem. "I need some time to set this up."

Binara didn't feel inclined to strip all the way down out in the open. Awkwardness aside, the worst case scenario was something pouncing on her while she was vulnerable. Maybe a terrifying beast. She shuddered.

Diyan paused to watch her. "Are you worried, my lady?"

"Huh? No," she said. "I was just—"

"I swear on my honor that I would never peek or—"

A giggle burst out of her before she could stop herself. He looked so adorably horrified by the mere idea that she thought of him as a pervert.

"No, that didn't even occur to me," she finally said. "Anyways, what do you need time for? Set up the fire?"

A smile flitted over his lips. "You'll see when you get back."

"Okay."

"Wait." He rummaged inside the cart and tossed something in her direction. "Manora had packed this in for you."

She caught the object. It was a handmade soap composed of ayurvedic ingredients. It was prettier than the normal soap in Diyan's palace, with decorative flowers on the top. That's nice of you, Manora.

Binara wove through the trees as she followed the gurgle of water. Mist swirled, amping up the ghostliness of the environment. Leaves crunched underfoot, damp and brittle, and she spied small critters up in the trees, their eyes glinting in the murk.

Eventually, the ground sloped down to the rushing stream. She skipped over the rocks and found the ideal spot for her bath.

The shoes came off first. Then she stripped down to her underwear. The water was frigid, but the sponge bath made her feel clean. Manora's soap gave off a mild flowery smell, which improved her mood.

Half an hour later, Binara made her way back. Dressed in a clean tee, she felt like herself again. Her stomach emitted a growl, which she ignored. When she came upon the firepit, she stopped dead in her tracks.

A fire burned cheerfully, blue-white flames licking a pot, which hung suspended from a stick rack. A napkin lay spread out on the ground, atop which was an assortment of wild mushrooms. Diyan sat on a fallen log close by, busy peeling a carrot. His cloak lay folded next to him, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbows. The flames danced in his eyes, which turned to survey her.