The War Against Aberon (Rough Draft #1)

Chapter Four

    Jahzarni returned quickly with a bowl of foul-smelling paste. Zaffre watched her crouch next to her and took note of the pinch in her eyebrows. Her motherly gaze didn't leave the hand that Zaffre held over her injured front. Setting the bowl aside she lifted her daughter's cloth shirt and exposed the injury. The movement of simply moving the article of clothing caused Zaffre to hiss in pain. "I'm so sorry honey, but it has to be looked at," Jahzarni's concern was evident in her voice.

    "I understand, just get it over with quickly." She replied with a wince.

    When Zaffre's mother finally glimpsed the Volbrix caused injury she gasped. Glancing down Zaffre understood why. Her stomach and chest looked brutal. Felipara scales were not the type made to take hard hits. Unlike dragon or even lizard scales, they were soft, small, and overlapped in a way that they felt like extra smooth skin. At this moment they made Zaffre wish she were a different species. Her normally violet hue was slightly darkened and she knew it would appear almost black by morning once the true bruising showed. Many of her scales were likely cracked or split, and she noticed small streaks of red flowing through those unseen fissures. Quickly the indigo woman beside her grabbed the bowl of green paste and held it just above Zaffre's stomach.

    An apology already on her face she spoke, "This is going to hurt but once the Moon Willow sets in it should numb the area decently well." Jahzarni then stuck a hand in the numbing and healing agent that smelt of skunk and applied it to the damaged area of Zaffre's flesh. It was agony. A fire below her skin flared to life and the pain she'd been slowly acclimating to was blown out of proportion by the new smarting pressure. She groaned a sound that she didn't realize her body could make.

    Her mother moved quickly and soon the whole area was slathered with muddy green. The torture faded into a throbbing ache far easier to deal with and Zaffre released a sigh of relief. "Gods, a better warning next time, I felt like I was dying," she said. A much lighter sound in her words.

    "Nothing really preps one for healing spreads, they either burn, sting, or just increase the pain already there before they set in." Jahzarni wore a dress that was simple in style but very functional, so now done applying the paste she took a washcloth from a hidden pocket and wiped her hand clean. She then took a palm-sized jar from another secret dress compartment. The clear glass held a translucent yellow liquid that swished around easily. She pulled the cork without warning and poured it over Zaffre's afflicted area. The substance moved quickly over the entire paste-covered space and then solidified as a protective seal to allow the injury to heal.

    She raised her eyebrows, but Zaffre decided not to comment on the use of Soufly oil. It was a form of sealant that was attracted to Moon Willow. Its strange nature of being a liquid than transforming into a hardened shape made it work to create a bandage over medicine. Normally it was quite expensive; same as the Fleur berries. After her mother's reaction to her commentary on the berries, she figured to mind her business on this. By Jahzarni's ignoring of her lifted eyebrows she figured it was the best course of action.

    Wincing slightly she finally was able to pull her light shirt down. With her mom's help, she stood once more, eyes darting around the field she spotted the sword. Slightly bloodied it still shone brightly in the sunlit grasses. Walking over to it while also acclimating to the foreign feeling of pressure around her ribcage she moved to lift it from the ground. The flatness of the blade caused problems, however, and Zaffre didn't know her new limits with broken ribs. Closer to the ground she had to bend far down to reach it. Her fresh wound protested the movement and a cry left her lips. She still waved off her mom when she rushed to her aid and tried once more to pick up the weapon. Squatting down this time. Sword in hand Zaffre made her way back to the house, her mother trailing closely behind her.

    Back inside the comfort of the cottage Zaffre promptly walked to the couch to then slowly sit and sunk into the cushions. She set the fancy sword down and let her eyes trail to her father who had returned to his lifeless and comatose state. Jahzarni moved to the kitchen to clean up any dishes around. While watching her Zaffre came to terms with what had happened. She'd run outside to protect the horses, found a Volbrix devouring one of their mares. That thought brought tears to her eyes, the white-furred horse named Liv was her father's favorite. She fought the Volbrix and nearly lost her life, at least three times. She was then saved by her mother who threw mysterious powder-filled bags at the beast.

    "I have some questions," Zaffre voiced.

    "I figured you might," Jahzarni replied with a smile. She finished up by their few counters and came to sit next to her only child. "Where would you like me to start?"

    Zaffre thought a moment. Pondering she came to the conclusion that the pink clouds that injured the Volbrix were a good place to start. "What was in those baggies?"

    Nodding, Jahzarni answered with ease. "Azalea pollen, the Volbrix are essentially allergic and it burns them, it makes a wonderful repellent."

    Zaffre "hmm'd" as a response then looked to her mother. Curiosity in her amber eyes she tried to convey the question without needing to vocalize it. She feared the secret compartment under the rug was meant to remain hidden and didn't want to overstep. Jahzarni understood. 

    A heavy sigh left the middle-aged woman's lips. "When your father and I were young, we lived in the Capitol." She hushed Zaffre when she started to blurt out her surprise. "He was training to be a soldier and I was studying in University. I was working to get to the point where I could help my Uncle Cypress as his apprentice in his manor."

    "Lord Cypress!?," Zaffre couldn't help exclaiming. She only received a nod before her mom continued the story. 

    "I met your father one day while out on the town. I was with friends and he was with some of his recruit buddies. One of my friends went to talk to a friend of his and then we got to talking." Jahzarni smiled as she continued, "I think we talked the whole day." She paused, a somberness coming to her expression. "The war started, and your father signed up. I didn't see him for two years until I spotted him in a tavern out of the blue. He was drinking heavily and I decided to take him to my dormitory. I helped him recuperate the next morning and learned his story."

    She glanced at her husband with a sad sort of love. "Your father had been honorably discharged for an injury. Was told he couldn't come back because he'd always have a limp. he got the injury saving another soldier though, so his commander gifted him the sword. He loves that thing, but since he'd never have the opportunity to fight with it it's bittersweet." Zaffre regarded her parents in a new light. 

    "Anyway, soon after we began courting I learned I was pregnant with you. Aberon started gaining ground so we decided to leave back to my home of Westwood and start the farm. We wanted a world that was safe for you, so why not as far from the conflict as possible?" Jahzarni finished. 

    "You're related to the Lord of Westwood?," Zaffre asked incredulously. 

Word Count-1317