Running From fate

Chapter 7

Manielon was the first to wake up the next morning and he took it upon himself to start what would have to make do for breakfast seeing as they had to ration carefully. As soon as Zenobia awoke she went immediately to write another letter to their newly formed allies. Informing them of their location, skill levels, and what supplies they would be needing. She would go out later that day to send the letter off, making sure it got precisely where it needed for mishaps cause impeccably difficult recoveries. If only mishaps weren't inevitable, then the world might be wondrous. For their new success, Zenobia allowed Shoftiel and Keithan to sleep in until the sun had reached its highest mark. Though there was still much to do, since they've been assured they had backup, there wasn't more to their situation. Once Shoftiel and Keithan had woken, Zenobia came to the conclusion that Manielon was less recognizable and sent him to see the letter off to the right hands. "If this letter makes it into the wrong hands I'll shred to you to pieces with just my thumb and index finger. Got it?" Needless to say Manielon agreed and quickly scurried off.

"No need to scare the daylights out of the poor man. He didn't ask to join us."

"True, but it was either he joined us or die anyways. I've done him a favor, Keithan."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Your Majesty."

"Hm. 'Your Majesty' I quite like that. Perhaps I'll have you all begin addressing me by that."

Shoftiel barely contained her laughter as she bowed. "Your Imperial Majesty."

"Alright. Now that's overdoing it. Back to sparring. We don't have time to sit and joke around all day."

They both groaned before grabbing their wooden staffs Zenobia had given them to spar with before clashing together in a blur of colors. Zenobia gave a quick smile of approval before the ground shook.