Annihilation - Book Three

Chapter 6

Ziduri awaits like a beacon in the distance. Life had chosen them, and the gods smiled upon the broken traveler again. The smell of elf lays heavy in the air, tempting the warlord to spend one more night in freedom, one last day entirely his own, even if it meant facing death should another infected find them.

 Returning would be much more difficult if not for Reid, and he might have opted to vanish into the wilderness entirely. The expectations of selflessness would not end on this short tour as a messenger; they would continue with the insistence that he would then march to Dezna and find whatever remained of his pack. There would be more tasks, more time on active duty, and disappointment that seemed almost never-ending servitude. 

Verando had accepted that evening when he decided to face his father for leadership that his life would become a new sort of slavery, one to his position and his people, but he never imagined just how long it would take. 

Their pace slows as they near the city limits, feeling the weight of returning to the fortress of his captors resting on his shoulders. Over ten years, he served as a slave for these knife-eared scum, and then for months, he'd been left to decay in their dungeons while enduring unrelenting torment. Even seeing the peaks of the castle made his heart start to pound, reminding him of the amount of suffering that had occurred here. 

Marisol lost her life here, countless of his brothers died on these very grounds, seeing the still healing divets litering the earth from where the dragons had fought was sobering, they now more closely resembled snow banks. How had they even disposed of the crystal dragon? It'd seemed like so long ago, even if it was only a few months. 

 Even though they were now in supposed peace, the thought of entering these walls as a free man felt strangely out of place, as if it were some sort of illusion and he'd once more be trapped the moment he was within the gates. 

 Opting to walk through the night, Verando ignored the fact that he felt more refreshed without rest than he did battling night terrors.

Bringing an infected man home was risky, they could accuse them of being infected and they weren't sure if this disease was something that occurred from proximity over exposure. He didn't even think to check Havoc for bite marks, the risk of bringing something they didn't understand was something that couldn't be taken lightly and he was already making mistakes.

 With a casual glance towards Reid, who practically hung limp on his own bones from exhaustion, the concern of the potential danger laid heavy on him. 

With a sigh, he shuts his eyes to make his peace with the task at hand. It was a good thing I had left; his job was not done and wouldn't be for the foreseeable future. This wasn't a safe place for me to be, no matter how he might desire me here, or how he missed me. If he allowed himself to dwell, he could almost smell my scent and hear my voice on the wind. 

Verando laughs in the depths of his mind; it will never end. There would never be a time when these beings wouldn't need someone like him, only when he was dead and in the ground would he stop being the one they summoned. Though, truthfully, this time he'd volunteered. 

Not as long as you willingly hand over your body for them to use. This is your fault.  He had waited so long for someone else to pick up the gauntlet. Every ranking ceremony, the silent hope that this would be the night someone with better ideas came along lingered and each time, he was met with disappointment. 

Reid yawns, startling him out of his musings. "We shouldn't have given them our food." he complains, half heartedly. 

"A lycan can go weeks without a meal. You'd do good to remember that."