The Blinding

Chapter 51 - Samakaab

After ensuring Tissa's safety, I rejoined the group. I couldn't help but feel for her, picturing the anxiety she must be grappling with while we took up arms on her behalf. It hurt to see her this way, yet her safety had to come first. If it meant she would think less of me, then that was a price I was prepared to pay. Her well-being surpassed the value of our camaraderie.
Upon realizing Tissa's absence, both Hani and Elmi fixed their questioning gazes on me. I evaded their eyes; the less they discerned about the situation, the better. I wasn't inclined to offer explanations to anyone except Tissa herself.
Soon after, representatives from the Avalite and Malao chapters of the Council integrated into our ranks. Murmurs about the 'Blinding' had reached their ears, and the lack of Tissa's luminous presence upon their arrival clearly disheartened them.
As night deepened, I urged everyone to find rest. Dawn would greet us soon enough, and our weary bodies craved rejuvenation. Yet, a nagging suspicion told me that, like myself, sleep would elude many tonight.
Walking the perimeter of our makeshift camp, I surveyed our weaponry and touched base with Council members, expressing gratitude for their unwavering support. My path led me to Bashir, still tied securely against a tree. Despite his predicament, his loud snores indicated his surprising comfort. Hibo, tasked with feeding our captive one last time for the night, had evidently done a thorough job. With luck, he'd remain asleep, freeing us from any midnight distractions. Rounding the camp, I found Aweys on vigilant guard duty outside Tissa's tent. Relieving him, I wanted to ensure he'd be at peak alertness by dawn, especially if he was to shield Tissa. A quick peek inside revealed Tissa's serene form, her rhythmic breathing a tranquil sight amidst the chaos.
Settling down outside, my blade laid across my lap, the vastness of the stars beckoned, leaving me pondering the uncertainties tomorrow held.
It wasn't long before Elmi approached, cradling a cup that likely held tea. He seated himself beside me, silent yet radiating a warmth that was strangely reassuring.
"The weight of leadership at such a tender age must be immense," he observed.
His words echoed my internal thoughts, sentiments I'd never vocalized. I responded with a half-whisper, guarding the emotions that began to choke my voice.
"You lead with an iron fist," he continued. "Yet, I can't help but ponder if the weight you bear is overwhelming."
His prying felt intrusive, almost as if he was peeling back layers of my soul. Though known as a Seer, his knack for discernment bordered on eerie.
"If the weight ever becomes too much, remember, I'm here," he offered gently.
Gathering my thoughts, I began, "When fate claimed my parents, their legacy naturally fell to me. Though I had an immense desire to delegate, to entrust someone more seasoned, more worthy, an obligation to their memory held me fast. My mother's leadership was legendary. Time and again, I witnessed people flocking to her, seeking solace, guidance. She never hesitated to extend herself, to us, her children, to her people, to any soul in need. The Council merited someone of her caliber. Daily, I strive, hoping to fill even a fragment of the void she left."

"You don't deem yourself worthy of the role?" Elmi remarked, his voice a heavy with concern.
"I don't just think, Elmi. I know. My mother would have anticipated this looming storm. She'd have ensured every magician and ally from the corners of our land was rallied to our cause. But here we are. A few seasoned Council members and many who are still finding their footing. How can I send them into battle knowing what awaits?"
Elmi leaned in, his eyes a well of age-old knowledge. "Samakaab, you have us. That might be our beacon in this darkness. You've done all you could with the cards you were dealt. Your mother would be beaming with pride, seeing how you've revitalized the Council, trained every one of us, even a weathered man like myself. Consider the protection you've offered to your close-knit group, the force you've cultivated from scratch. They follow you not out of obligation, but trust. Your leadership may have been unexpected, but it feels destined. I feel privileged to march into battle under your guidance. As do us all, I am sure of it. "
Words struggled to form as more emotions threatened to spill from my eyes. Elmi, reading my turmoil, didn't press further.
"Harness this conviction tomorrow. It may be all you have in the midst of all of this," he advised, patting me firmly on the back. "The night wanes, and you should find some rest. Tomorrow, we meet on the battlefield."
He left, his tea untouched, its warmth rising in gentle spirals. I finished it in a single gulp, the liquid heat offering fleeting solace. Pulling back the drapes, my gaze settled on her – the one who had reshaped my world so profoundly in such a short time. I found myself fervently praying, hoping to once more see that radiant glow of her skin.