The Winds of Tepr

Chapter 31

PART 2

The night descends upon the land of Tepr, a veil of darkness gently wrapping around the sprawling encampment. A bonfire crackles and dances, its flames casting a warm, flickering light that battles the cold shadows of the evening. Beside this fire, in front of their yurt, sits Naci, her gaze lost in the mesmerizing dance of flames. The air is filled with the scent of burning wood.

Horohan emerges from the shadows, her steps silent on the soft earth. She pauses, observing Naci, who appears so engrossed in the fire that the world around her has faded away. With a gentle concern, Horohan approaches, the cool night air brushing against her skin. "Aren't you cold?" she asks, her voice soft, barely rising above the crackling of the flames.

There's no response from Naci. Her silence hangs in the air, as if she hasn't heard the question at all. Horohan moves closer, kneeling beside her. She reaches out, running a cold hand through Naci's hair. To her surprise, Naci's warmth is palpable, radiating like the fire before them.

"You should sleep," Horohan suggests gently, "before we leave."

Naci's gaze remains unbroken, her eyes reflecting the dance of the flames as she speaks without turning, her voice carrying a weight that belies the calmness of the fire. "You're not going with me." The words hang in the air, a decree laid bare in the night's embrace.

Horohan's hand retracts, a swift, almost reflexive motion, as if the distance between them suddenly expanded. "Why not?".

"Who knows what they're really planning," Naci muses aloud, her words a window into the tumultuous thoughts storming within her. The flicker of the fire casts shadows across her face.

"All the more reason why I should come with you," Horohan counters, her voice firmer now.

Naci finally turns, her gaze meeting Horohan's for the first time since the conversation began. In her eyes, there's a storm, a fierce determination mingled with a sorrowful resolve. "No, that's the reason why you shouldn't come. Get ready for the blizzard, and you will welcome winter's snow." Her voice softens, the fierceness giving way to a tender, almost heartbreaking clarity. "I want you to stay here and live a long and happy life in case I don't come back."

Without a hint of warning, the night's tense silence shatters as Horohan's hand darts to her side, drawing her dagger—the legacy from her mother, the very blade that carved her path to freedom from her father's tyranny. With a swift, fluid motion, she points its sharp edge directly at Naci's heart. The firelight glints off the metal, casting a dangerous gleam. "Don't fuck with me, I'll kill you!" The words explode into the night.

But as quickly as the storm of her emotions had surged, it ebbs, leaving a trace of absurdity in its wake. Horohan's fierce expression softens, confusion and realization dawning simultaneously. "I mean... Do you not get it? I'd rather die than live without you!" Her voice cracks, the depth of her feelings laid bare under the starlit sky.

The tension morphs into something unexpected as Naci bursts into laughter. "Aren't you overreacting? We have been married for less than half a year and you're already acting like an old woman!" Her amusement fills the space between them.

But Horohan's laughter doesn't join Naci's. Instead, she brings the knife to her own throat, her expression grave, eyes alight with a desperate intensity. "I'm not joking! If you think you're going to die then..." Her words trail off, a silent ultimatum hanging in the balance.

Naci's reaction is swift, closing the distance between them in an instant. Her face is mere inches from Horohan's as she seizes the dagger with a steady hand, her gaze piercing. "That's the difference between you and I, my beautiful wife. If you died, I would go into a rampage like no god of war or wrathful ghost has ever seen, and I would kill every living being on earth so that I shall be the only one that can mourn you." Her voice, fierce and unwavering, carries a promise of an unimaginable storm.