Folktails✔️

8•

F O L K T A I L S
•More than enough•
The air was so hot, blazing even that it was on the verge of singeing the hairs on his arms and head. He groaned as he tried to sit up but fell back almost immediately as the strength he thought to had garnered rushed out of his body and into the shadows of the fairly dark room.

He groaned again as he tried to lift himself with notably more effort. This time he noticed the rag that had been placed on his chest. With difficulty, he leaned on his side with the slow realisation that he had close to no energy left.

He then closed his eyes and opened them while taking note of the torch that was burning in the far corner of the hut. The wick was falling asleep but it still had enough left to keep the room lit.

Where was he again?

Ikenna placed a hand on his forehead, and it was then he realised that his body temperature was the only thing that was boiling hot. It wasn't the air as he had thought before. In fact, Ikenna wouldn't had been surprised if he could fry an egg on himself.

"You're awake!" An enthralling yet commanding voice exclaimed as light feet hurried into the hut.

"Who are you?" Ikenna asked and his fingers wrapped around the folded rag–which was now warm even though it had been dipped in cold water before–on his chest.

"It is I my Lord." She stepped into the light and took off the scarf she had tied around her hair.

It was her.

Ikenna swallowed hard, wondering how he had forgotten the sound of her voice. It seemed like his fever had blurred his senses so badly that he was finding it hard to catch a grip on reality and all that was around him.

Where was he again?

"Where are we your highness?" He asked slowly. His throat felt scratchy and dry.

"We are at one of my huts my Lord."

"Why...my...lady?" He asked in between coughing fits. "Water." He then whispered but she had already headed outside with the exact intention in mind.

"I found you outside my house with those marks on you." She pointed at Ikenna's right arm that had fairly deep claw marks scratched in.

"Why have I no memory of my actions your highness?"

"I do not know my Lord but I think something out of the ordinary must have happened to you a night ago. You've been sleeping soundly for a day."

"A day?" Ikenna gasped deeply. Him being out for a whole day meant he had not tended to his farm and neither had he hunted or checked his traps in the forest. "I need to leave."

"You are not yet strong my Lord. That is not a good idea." She forced him down by pushing on his shoulders with soft, pretty hands.

"I would protest but I find that I don't mind being incapacitated as much as I normally would have my lady."

"Why say so my Lord?" She asked as she held up his head and gave him water from a little calabash.

"I have the chance to be here with the most beautiful woman the gods have ever blessed me with the pleasure of knowing. Now tell me your highness, why shall I waste this opportunity?"

She smiled her usual smile and Ikenna caught her glowing underneath the glow of the tired torch.

"You coat your tongue with honey my Lord. Your well meant flattery both amuses and amazes me as in its entirety, it may be the truth."