Threads of Fate

Chapter 65 ~ A Glimpse of the Future

    They rode for three days, never stopping to rest until almost midnight, and rising again before sunrise, pushing themselves and their mounts as hard as they could. The snow had gradually decreased as they made their way down the mountains to everyone's relief, though the nights remained cold and they couldn't escape early morning drizzle and fog.

    Tissaia spent her nights curled into Azael, stealing as much warmth from him as she could until he took his turn on watch. She slept very lightly during those hours, no matter how hard she tried. She was too on edge, especially when the rocky mountainside began to give way to the foothills.

    Every segment of their journey brought them closer to Lochren. Back to that dreaded manor that she had promised herself she would never have to return to. They were supposed to make a home for themselves, her and Talarion, with Kaius. That had been their promise to each other. She and her brother weren't supposed to have to go back there, but here they were. They had to face their father once again.

    The only comfort she was able to give herself was the assurance that they would not face him alone. Azael knew she had promised Talarion that she wouldn't leave his side, and they had several brave, strong Cahirim warriors escorting them. Their father had many warriors of his own, but the Cahirim could handle them.

    But even that knowledge couldn't stop her memories from creeping back in the form of dreams when she tried to sleep, whether it was at night or when she was riding double with Azael or her brother so her horse could rest. Just last night, she'd woken with a barely stifled scream and the visions of her father's mocking face and her mother's empty eyes floating above her.

    Azael had been roused by her sudden lurching movements and despite his attempts to soothe and comfort her, she hadn't been able to go back to sleep. She remained exhausted even now as they plodded through the last of the mountainous slopes they'd be facing. They were almost in reach of where they'd be making camp for tonight, and that would place them within a day and a half, maybe two days, from Lochren.

    Tissaia shivered, both from dread and from the breeze that ruffled the hair on her neck, and instinctively, her gaze sought out her brother. Talarion rode near the head of the group today, though he remained verbally withdrawn. He hadn't spoken much to anyone recently, even her, and a part of her was worried he was upset with her.

    She'd done her best to avoid kissing Azael when he was nearby, but she knew he'd noticed her sleeping next to him, and even though he had assured her that he wanted her happiness, she couldn't help but feel guilty when she spied him watching them.

    How could it be fair for her and Azael to finally be happy together after all they'd put each other through, when he and Kaius had been in love from the moment they met and were forced to keep their relationship a secret for over two centuries?

    No, if Talarion harbored some secret resentment towards herself and Azael, she couldn't begrudge him that. Not when he'd suffered so much and received so little in return. By the time Gaelen announced they had reached their campsite, Tissaia was exhausted by her mind as well as her body.

    She all but fell off her mount and set to work unsaddling the horse. A few of the Cahirim warriors were doing the same while others, Kahari and Vael among them, set off with their bows and full quivers, likely to hunt for their evening meal.

    Gaelen was already arranging a small scouting party including himself to ensure they didn't need to be extra vigilant through the night, and Tissaia listened quietly while Azael volunteered to accompany them.

    The group thinned out to complete their assignments and the few who remained were swift to arrange their cloaks on the ground and fall asleep, until eventually, Tissaia was one of the only ones left awake. She chose to seat herself near the edge of the camp along an abundant growth of bracken and small shrubs in an effort to shield herself from the blowing wind that had followed them from the mountains.