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TALE 3: Creation (2)
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— Azade tried to stop looking at Vardin.
His face was so blank—so emotionless. It was as if he were in a daze, unaware to the fact that the side of his face was still bleeding and to the fact he might die before he could ever see the sun again.
Her eyes betrayed her to Rukun, who had been looking at her with a dark grin on his face. "It seems I always have to encourage you to start, Scheherazade." A hand pointed to Vardin, who pressed the knife further into his neck—
"Stop!"
A deep breath.
The story came out as effortlessly as she remembered it.
—
NIGHT RAN AND RAN WITH HER. His legs felt strange running on such firm ground but it also felt empowering. His entire life had been spent locked in the clouds, running to him felt empowering.
The girl- or Sharazad as she called herself, ran alongside him with a knife clutched tightly in her hand. The sounds of hooves and screaming men followed them as they ran into the bare-bones trees.
Night barely had anytime to survey the earth that was kept away from him. Out of his peripheral vision he could see thick lines of trees and dead grass. He followed the girl as she ran, her legs expertly running along a cleared path.
