Heir to None

United we Fell | Part I

"I wonder how the outside world is... Hey, hey, mother? Can you show me sometime, please?"

If I had known it would be like this, then I wouldn't even have bothered asking such a stupid question. The outside world is harsh and unforgiving; it does not relent in its treatment of you, nor does it care for you; most of the people are even worse. Frosty metal dug itself into my throat and smuggled all warmth from my skin. There were men all around the arrow hut, testing out gear and dismissing Fletchers ( unfortunately I was not among them ). Alone I sat sharpening iron tips, sanding off shafts and using strips of deer hide to tie them to feathers. Only to then repeat the same process again, and again, and again, and again. The sounds of the camp reverberated through the walls. They whispered through the atmosphere like an ever-present sign reminding us of our new scenery. A soldier came marching in with a woman clad in the same drab uniform standing by his side.

"Azaz.L.Nephlis you are to leave and go to your quarters immediately," he announced with a gruff, throaty voice while waving his hand as a sign that I was no longer required. I set down my work gently and with shaking hands, pushed myself up and moved briskly for the exit. Flecks of powdery snow fell to my bare face and sent raging shivers down my spine. I strolled, trying to limit my sound and movement. I shuffled out the way of another officer who was dragging a young girl by the inky chain around her neck. The officer bore a massive scar that snaked across the majority of his forearm and a thick black beard of tussled hairs. The girl's skin was brown like ground cocoa. Her hair tumbled behind her in a river of negritude. Eyes like burning sapphires sat upon her slender face. The beautifully elegant curves of her body caught my gaze. Still, I swiftly diverted my eyes away as she turned her head to look at me.

'I may be a far off cry from who I was, but I at least retain a base level of decency.'The girl walked slowly but not as quietly as I did, she had a very slight, almost unnoticeably clumsy gait.'The movements of someone covered in bruises, my movements' I studied grimly.Her tattered dress ( If you could even call it that ) was of an old tortilla colour. When the officer inclined his head and began glaring daggers, I snapped my head back to face the stone path in front of me and scampered away faster than I expected.