The Outcast's Rebirth

CHAPTER 15: When Memories Remain

Amani's grip on Kyzzu tightened as she pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his face with a mixture of concern and confusion.

She spoke in their native language, her voice trembling. "What happened to you, Kyzzu? Where have you been? Why are you like this?" Her questions came one after another, each word laced with desperation.

Kyzzu averted his gaze, the weight of her questions pressing heavily on him. He didn't want to burden her with the truth, didn't want to see the pity and sorrow in her eyes. But Amani wasn't one to be easily deterred. She asked again, her tone more insistent, "Kyzzu, please. I need to know what happened."

For a long moment, Kyzzu remained silent, the words tangled in his throat. But Amani's persistent gaze broke through his defenses, and with a deep sigh, he began to speak. His voice was low, filled with reluctance and sorrow as he recounted the events that had led him to this moment-the capture, the journey across the sea, the terrifying discovery of the life growing inside him, and the despair that had followed.

He spoke haltingly, each word a struggle, but he laid bare the truth, unable to shield her from the harsh reality.

As Kyzzu spoke, Amani's expression shifted from confusion to shock, and then to a profound sadness. Her eyes filled with tears once more, but this time, they were for him. When he finally finished, there was a heavy silence between them, broken only by the sound of Amani's quiet sobs. She placed a hand on his cheek, her touch gentle and full of sorrow.

"Kyzzu, I...I never imagined..." she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "How could this happen? How could they do this to you?"

Kyzzu shook his head, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. "I didn't want you to know, Amani. I didn't want you to see me like this."

Amani looked at him, her heart clearly breaking for the young man she had once known. She tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat, and she could only hold him close once more, as if her embrace could somehow shield him from the pain of his reality.

In an attempt to shift the focus away from his own suffering, Kyzzu asked softly, "What about you, Amani? What happened to you? Where are your children?"

Amani wiped her tears, composing herself enough to answer. "They're safe, Kyzzu. My little ones are with their father, back in the village. It was only me they took. They thought I would be valuable to them, someone who could serve in their households." Her voice faltered, the pain of their separation clear in her words, but she forced herself to continue. "But I will see them again, I know I will. I just have to believe that."

Kyzzu nodded, though the ache in his chest deepened at the thought of Amani being torn from her family. "They're strong, Amani, just like their mother," he said, trying to offer some comfort, even as his own heart felt heavy with despair.

They spoke quietly for a long while, their conversation weaving through memories of their past lives, the warmth of their homeland, and the uncertainty of their future. Amani told him about her children-their laughter, their mischief, the way they had grown so quickly. Kyzzu listened, clinging to the normalcy of her words, but underneath it all, there was a shared sorrow that neither could fully escape.

The hours passed, and the room grew dim as the day turned to night. But for a brief moment, in that small wooden house far from home, Kyzzu and Amani found solace in each other's presence. They were both broken in different ways, but together, they found the strength to face the darkness that lay ahead.

In the days that followed, Kyzzu and Amani settled into a quiet routine, their bond growing stronger with each passing day. Amani took it upon herself to care for Kyzzu, treating him with the tenderness of a mother tending to her child.