“So much merriment while we rot in hiding just because of a self proclaimed saviour! A self proclaimed savior that has done nothing for us. The Heir of the Lost Throne!” She hissed, baring her teeth. “For how long will this foolish behavior continue? It irks me!” Nyka said the moment she stepped into the section of the Cave that belonged to the Channeller.
“And good evening to you too, Nyka.”
A smile bloomed on her face, and she hurried to the Channeller who was standing at one side of the cave.
Standing!
“Gamama!” She slipped her arms around her in an embrace, overjoyed to see her looking better than she had in years. “You look amazing. Like the sun kissed your skin. The herbs must finally be working. I will go and gather some more…”
The Channeller laughed. “There will be no need for that.” Then she pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Instead, tell me why do you hate them so much? It is not like you to hate without reason.” She asked as she cupped her face and tucked a couple of strands of her red curly hair away.
“I do not hate them.” Nyka pulled away, her gaze moving around the cave. “I just hate what they stand for, baseless hope. They make the people lose focus of what truly matters. We are our own saviors, not some stranger that appears with nothing but words of a wizard. What has he done for us that we put him above us? That we put our trust in him? It is not right! They either earn their place here from the bottom or they can leave!” She tsked. “They make them feel like the war has been won already but yet, here we are. The celebration can wait till there is a reason worth it.”
That felt so relieving. She had been trying to find Gamama the whole day and talk to her but there had just been a lot to do. She was still angry that she had to clean up after a celebration that she didn't partake in.
Those strangers were pests, by Ina!
They were living a normal life until they came. Everyone took their duty seriously, no one swayed, UNTIL THEY CAME!
What even annoyed her most was that she hadn't found anything incriminating about them yet.
“Tyrek was right.”
Nyka rolled her eyes. They were already gossiping about her like two old people.
“What else did my father say about me?” She asked, looking around for something to eat. Gamama was always hiding food around, Nyka was almost certain it was a trick to lure her to this section of the cave so that they could spend more time together.
A trap she would willingly allow herself to get caught in.
“You have to take them through the secret passage.”
“What? Why?”
The Channeller sighed and headed to her bed. “They need to get to the Castle so they can find the Life Gem.”
Nyka frowned, biting her lips so she wouldn't say the words that burnt her throat. There was no way she would admit to it that this prophecy might have some elements of truth.
No!
Her mother had died on the altar of belief, of waiting, of hope.
She had prayed to Ina, begged that the Heir of the Lost Throne would be sent to them… she had believed.
Not anymore!
She would not be foolish again! She would remain the sane one among them, to protect her people, her family.
“They will create for us an army, child. An army that will take down the White King. It is what we need, just like the prophecy said. He will give us victory.”
Nyka scoffed. “When they create the army, then I will believe.”
___
___
Nyka, along with the Priest, took the disguised “Heir” and his useless female through the portal.
That female! All she did was remain quiet and cry! She cried a lot, her tear stains were starting to be permanent.
She was weak.
Humans were usually weak.
What was she even useful for besides her “connection” with the Bearer anyway? That was if that connection was even true.
“If you are caught, have a bit of honour to die without revealing this passage to anyone.” Nyka said, looking right at Alaris who glared at her.
“He cannot be caught. The Heir! The one that was promised by the words.” The Priest smiled as he praised Alaris. “I shall patiently wait for your return here, My Lord.”
My Lord.
Those words made Nyka infuriated and her grip on the handle of her sword tightened.
So underserved!
With a couple of spells and calculative pushing of some stones, the passage was opened.
“The passage will lock itself by midnight. It cannot stay open for long. Try to return before then, if you can.”
It happened so quickly. Alaris hand went around her neck as he pulled her roughly, his claws digging into her neck; not enough to kill but enough to offer pain. She bared her teeth as blood drizzled down the cuts. She saw death in those mismatched eyes and fear rushed into her veins, consuming her.
“Know your place.”
He tossed her to the ground and she struggled to catch her breath.
“Useless warrior.” She heard him say as he picked up his useless female and left the passage, the stupid Priest fanning his ego with praises.
That Bastard! How dare he?
May he not return.
In fact, it would be good if the White King’s warriors would do them all a favor and get rid of him and his stupid female.
Useless lots!