SACRIFICE TO THE MOON (Completed) #Wattys2020

CHAPTER 19

     Wordlessly, Waya followed Freya back to the cave with his shield firmly strapped to his back.
       Conscious of the fact that time wasn't in their corner, the duo hopped into their respective sarcophagus while Freya chanted the incantations which launched both sarcophagus out of the moon and straight for earth.
        Waya's head was whirling, his sarcophagus had landed with a conspicuous bang.
     With ears ringing due to the massive blast, Waya pushed opened the sarcophagus. He looked around, there was a dense bush surrounding him.
      He scanned the area for Freya. A few feet away from him laid her sarcophagus.
            He hurried to it and pulled it open, within it was an unconscious Freya.
    Waya picked her up from the sarcophagus and began to make his way out of the bush.
        He had trouble adjusting  to the earth's gravitational pull for it greatly differed from that of the moon.
         In his arms, Freya seemed almost weightless. He walked for hours with Freya in his arms but there wasn't a single soul in sight.
           He was fascinated with earth, with plants,insects, chirping of birds. He felt freedom, he felt adventure, he felt alive.
           Freya stirred him his arms. Waya gently placed her on the ground while watching her intently.
    Freya closed and reopened her eyes repeatedly to get it used to the rays if the sun.
       When she finally felt comfortable in her environment, she let her gaze fall on Waya.
               " How is it you are conscious?" Freya asked in astonishment.
     "Am not supposed to be?"
Waya inquired with a quizzical look plastered across his face.
         "That blast should have knocked you out for at least an hour."
         Waya shrugged nonchalantly.
             "I don't know about that but a'v walked miles yet I can't find anyone."
    "That's because this location was chosen as the destination of the 'weine' because of its secularity "
     "So where are we exactly?"
    "Algar"
    "Algar?, My destination is my birthplace Malabour"
     "Well, your highness you are in luck for Algar is adjacent Malabour".
           "Then what are we waiting for?"
         With those words, prince Waya left Freya on the ground and resumed his hike, forcing Freya to scurry after him.
           The duo walked for a day and a half, Waya hadn't had the good sense of packing food, the belongings he brought with him were his royal clothings.
       While Freya grew weary of the walk, Waya seemed impervious.
        Finally, Freya collapsed to the ground utterly exhausted.
      Waya sighed angrily. He was so close to getting to his family and this.
      In a fit if anger, Waya roughly tossed the exhausted Freya over his shoulders and resumed his March.
     After another mile, he knew he had to find water, not for himself but for the useless thing draping across is shoulder.
       From a distance, he spotted a carriage, with renewed hope, he made a dash for it.
        The closer he got to the carriage, the more details he could see.
       When the old man riding the carriage noticed Waya running towards him with an unconscious woman across his shoulder, he slowed his horse drawn carriage to a halt.