The Legend of Aranyani

Chapter 8

Yay an update!!! Am I right? Phew! I'm glad I was finally able to get this done.

Sorry about the inconsistent updates lately, I've been dealing with a few personal issues but that won't stop my characters from making me write! ;)

Of course this is still a first draft but the most important part of a first draft is writing it!!

Thank you again for still being here and reading my story. I really appreciate it :)

~Ro <3

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They began their journey as the sun rose, its light casting shadows along the surrounding trees. Nate's thighs burned trudging through the dense jungle, he followed close behind Seketo'a who moved with ease amongst the vegetation.

Nate was used to walking the cobble streets back in the New World, the jungle's uneven ground was cluttered with branches, roots, and small tangled bushes causing him to trip about every other step.

He looked up at Seketo'a's fading back, the quick boy dashed through the jungle with an abundance of stealth. Nate shook his head to himself, puffing oxygen into his deprived lungs, recalling nearly a few hours ago when they first stepped out of Osceola's hut.

The night sky had still been scattered with twinkling stars, the never ending heat pulsed through the air. Osceola had placed a gentle kiss on both their heads and, in Kishar, wished them the safest travels. They left the hut in silence, only the brisk brush of dirt against the bottom of their feet could be heard as they weaved through the huts and towards the jungle. Seketo'a managed to get them past the sentries, not only then but back when Nate was injured and they had to sneak back into the village unseen.

Seketo'a was extraordinarily talented at just about anything he set his mind to, from what Nate could tell. The boy could speak multiple different languages, impressive for his age and the fact that not many people in the land of Kishar cared to learn another tongue other than their own. The child rode a Quatch, female might we had, like nobody's business. He seemed quite accustomed to sneaking around without being caught and he moved through the jungle like he was born to.

"Nathaniel, over here!" Seketo'a shouted, snapping Nate out of his thoughts.

Nate scanned the jungle, thick tree trunks blocked his view of anything much farther than a few feet. He continued to walk in the direction the voice had come, trying to find the boy. Moments later Nate could finally make out a small hand waving in the distances.

"Nathaniel, I'm over here!" The hand yelled. Nate headed towards the blur of skin, tripping over a large rock in the process, he tumbled to the ground landing on his shoulder.

"Laana." Nate cursed against the dirt now enlaced in his teeth. The cut along his back throbbed in pain from the involuntary movement, trickles of blood falling along his sweaty skin.

Nate stayed on the jungle floor, breathing through the pain and most importantly, he lay there trying to envision himself tripping, for the millionth time, and finally landing on the ground. His thighs burned, his back ached, his head throbbed, and all he could taste was the foul damp dirt of the jungle soil.

"Nathaniel." The voice made Nate groan.

"I do not believe that is how you walk."

"What? Oh this? No, you misunderstood, the ground just looked like it needed a hug." Nate quipped, extending his arm out, gingerly patting the dirt. A fit of giggles followed his remark as Nate got to his feet cautiously, wincing at his back.