Natria

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The loss had completely devastated Flohelm. In just forty-eight hours, the man had lost everything which was once dear to him. He was speechless, though it would be more accurate to say he was in distraught. All left to him was his two-day-old son. Flohelm's inner mind conflicted with the emotions of rage and fear. Without his mother, he would surely not survive, and then he would be alone.

Suddenly, he felt pressure on his shoulder; the weight tilting him in the direction. A moment later, he felt his body being vigorously shaking when suddenly, an ear-piercing scream went off.

"SONNNN! ARE YOU OKAY?" the elderly woman shouted.

Reflexively, he covered his ears with his hand.

"What the heck are you doing, old lady?" he shouted in rage and confusion.

"It seems you have received a heavy hit on your head," she said in a sympathetic tone.

"What makes you say so?" he replied, his face showing an expression of confusion and concern. Concern that he might not be in the right place, concern about his son's safety with the old woman and his with the woman.

The elderly woman seemed to have read his face.

"You don't have any other option, young man other than trusting me and my women." she said in a stern voice. Flohelm was taken aback by this.

"How did you-" Flohelm asked in shock.

"Experience, young man. Don't worry your son shall survive, our tribe knows just the remedy." the elder woman said, her tone like those of the wisest of mankind.

A faint glimmer of hope sparked in Flohelm's dark and dull eyes. He gave a heavy sigh.

"When can I see my son?" he asked in a respectful tone.

"By night. For now, let the wound heal, we cannot afford an infection." the woman replied in a kind voice.

"Are you going to be here with me for all that time?" he said, stretching his words.

"Yes, do you have a problem with that?" she asked in an inquisitive tone.

"Uh, no, not at all. Better have company than to be alone." he said in a depressing voice.

"Son, sharing always reduces one's grief. If you feel comfortable, you can talk to me, all should be confidential. Avia's word." the woman assured. Her eyes with genuine kindness, the grittiness and the soft-spoken tone of one trying to help reverberated through Flohelm's heart. He was hesitant, those memories were painful. The lady caught Flohelm's expression.

"It's okay if you don't wish to, given your condition I can guess what mishappening fell upon your condition." she said.

Flohelm was lost in his thought, her words didn't reach him. he began to murmur to himself, bits of his tale in a nonsensical manner. The lady's face twisted in an expression of confusion. Flohelm has seemed to catch the sudden pause in the conversation now, he looked up and saw the old lad; concern, visible on her face.

"I guess we can start with introductions, please excuse me but I really don't wish to talk about recent incidents." he said in an apologetic tone.

"Sure, I'm Bakuzkha Avia, the head of the Avia Tribe. Our tribe...."

[18th October, 1939, Forest Of Tats, Narchasia]

"Align yourself!" the woman ordered. The soldiers obliged. Within a matter of minutes in front of her stood the army of thousand cavalrymen, behind them were the seven hundred horsemen, adjacent to whom were a hundred snipers; all ready with their GL-209 sniper rifle. Countless other subdivisions stood in the adjoining spaces. One of the female soldiers, presumably the woman's subordinate gave her a megaphone.

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