Arakim was thinking over that conversation on the ridge while running briskly with the others to Gaddoni's village, early next morning. Since time was of essence they decided it would serve better purpose to run than walk before it became too hot. They left while the desert was still dark.
And since Gaddoni was still weak from his injuries, Talor easily carried the light-weight, but tall lanky boy. And to make light of his shame at being a burden, Talor assured him it was no weakness to give yourself time to recover from a fight so he could fight another time. He reminded him of how he held out to the three soldiers and never cried for once before help arrived. And Gnar added that he wouldn't mind being carried himself which brought on laughter. Flying would have been easier for him but since they can't be sure of how Gaddoni would receive that they all decided he ran with them as human. Arakim translated everything so they would understand one another, except for the flying bit.
And after a few hours of non-stop running they had travelled more than halfway to the village, drinking when they needed to. The two soldiers were sent home for their safety from the Desert People. But that was after breaking them of the spell they were under and were made to swear allegiance to Arakim as their king and lord. Arakim still not comfortable using that word god.
When the sun became unbearably hot around mid-afternoon, they looked for shelter to rest for a few hours and catch their breath. Arakim sat a little apart from the group, eyes closed, thinking on how all these came to be. A few months ago, he was just a prince with years ahead of him before the responsibilities of taking the throne became an issue. Now he didn't even know what or who he was? Was he one of Tyr's creation or his son? Was it just all nonsense and he was still human and a prince? If he was his son, how did that happen? And Tyr keeping quiet about the whole thing wasn't helping?
Maybe if you didn't butt him out of your head he would explain, Mena said, amused.
Mena? Arakim asked, not sure if he was glad or angry at her interruption. You don't understand.
Of course I do, Mena assured him, crossing to sit beside him. You are not sure you want to know the answer. Smiling gently at him, when he looked at her. You wonder if it's true, what will it mean?
Partly. Arakim answered, glad that someone understood.
But Arakim, it doesn't mean anything. She told him.
How can you say that? Glaring at her, thinking maybe she didn't really understand. It means everything, Mena. Who am I?
Arakim, she answered firmly, that's who you are and nothing will change that. Putting her head on his shoulders. And if it's any consolation, only Talor, Edum and myself knows. Gently rubbing his arm.
It is. Putting his head on hers. But I'm still not talking to him so don't try to change my mind.
In a teasing voice. Of course, mountain Arakim, bringing a smile to his lips, forehead smoothing out as he relaxed under her touch.
I love you, Mena. Shocking her with the admission.
Mena gaped at him, mouth opened and jaw slacked, speechless. Arakim laughed out loud causing everybody to look at them briefly before looking away to continue with whatever they were doing.
It's alright, Mena. Close your mouth before flies make their home in there. Helping her to close it when she just kept staring at him. I know you love me too. How can you not? I am a god! And laughed when she punched him in the arms, not too gently either.
"Ow! Enough with the punching,'' he muttered, rubbing his arm, 'you know where I come from women are dainty and nice, not strong as an ox, able to throw grown men several feet without breaking sweat,'' mock-growling at her.
YOU ARE READING
Arakim's Legacy(#Wattys2015)
AdventurePrince Arakim fled his kingdom to a magical forest with barely his life when a zealous magical order came to subjugate his people to their rule. There he met a race of people that were thought to be myths but seemed real enough to him and with their...