The Crossing (Book One)

Chapter Four: Tezaro

Tezaro stood in amazement at the girl while the cracking ice spread through the mud giant. Her withdrawal caused the ice statue to sway violently and fall backwards shattering into jagged chunks of muddy ice. The effort had been too great for her waning strength.

The girl's eyes rolled back and closed before she collapsed. He ran and skidded to her, slowly kneeling down beside her before sheathing his sword at his back.

Drenched from the rain, her matted hair continued to hide her face from him. After completely turning her over to search for any injuries, he brushed the hair away and stopped in mid motion.

His breath caught. He knew that face. Her face. Up until this moment he had not seen the face of the girl he had to rescued, nor would he have imagined it would be her. His hand reached out to touch her, skimming her cheek. She was real.

Reaching beneath her shoulders and knees, he lifted her onto his arms effortlessly. "My hero," he sighed sarcastically. Then he ran into the night with her cradled against his chest without looking back.

It seemed as if time had slowed down and prevented him from arriving at the inn any quicker. When he finally did enter the room he had allocated, he placed the girl on the bed and examined her for any injuries.

Long hours into the night, he sat by the side of the bed, looking in bewilderment at her. In the recesses of his mind he knew that nameless face but he could not explain it. His heart pounded rapidly thinking that he had finally found her. A wiry smile crossed his face at the irony of it all.

There was an unwarranted sigh of exasperation as he shut his eyes tight. This was far from coincidence, it was fate. The Key and the woman in his prophecy were one and the same. Over the years, her face had become both a comfort and a torment. He'd searched for her across hundreds of faces but she was a mirage.

Tezaro reached out and touched her cheek to see if she would fade away like parting mists. Her warmth seared her existence on his fingertips. His pulse raced as he realized he walked a fine line now that he'd found her.

Frustration gnawed at him like a savage beast restrained, but only barely. He stood up and strode out into the main room, yet still left the door open so that he could hear her if she called out.

The interior and the trappings were different, but inns in any realm seemed to be standard. A large payment could ensure comfort and secrecy.

This was the fourth location through the Crossing he had come through. In the days he had searched for her, he had quickly mastered the devices and routines of the city. The crystal had latched on to her quicker than he'd expected, but she had eluded him.

And then, he had seen Mimika at a distance and knew he had to find her first and fast. Finding Fennaris had been unexpected. He did not tend to minor tasks like capturing a prisoner. This, however, only laid credence to her identity.

He had to clear his head. After he returned to the bedroom, he stepped out onto its balcony, and stared out into the city lights. His mission was to find the Key and take her to Armindia. Finding the Key was merely a means to an end. He had to push any thoughts of his prophecy out of his mind, no matter how tempting she appeared. Anthonias had the information he needed. That would have to be his priority.