Running Away From One Thing, and Into Another.

Chapter 6: Hearing Things

We walk and travel for hours and hours. We ate and slept before we left, but my entire body denied it completely. Azjin, as hard as she tried not to, fell asleep in my arms as we rode off and on. I wished we could have switched places where I could sleep while she drives. But no, she's younger, and needs more sleep than I do.

We soon made camp, and she took first watch since I had been steering the horse. There was a near by stream that Zalk drank for five straight minutes, only coming back up for air. I took a hefty drink of my water, then passed it on to Azjin before I passed out.

Before long, we had to switch, and a new day of being sore. After Azjin awoke, we continued our journey with no real destination.

I sigh, drawing my mind back to the present. Where we are riding at a simple pace, and where Azjin is groggily riding with me since she just woke from a nap. “Can we stop?” She asks.

I shake my head, “We stopped not too long ago. If we hear water, we can stop.”

She huffs grouchily. Who doesn't wake up cranky from a nap? I simply ignore her when I reach the conclusion. In the silence of it all, I take in the chilly woods. The wind pushes through the dying leaves, making music from the shivering trees. The dirt is hard and easy for Zalk to walk through, which is really good since he is so worn.

“Was Dantem your boy friend?” I hear Azjin say after five minutes of silence. I sigh, I have been trying hard not to think of him, since he is dead and all, but a certain someone keeps bringing him back into my head.

“No, why would you think that?” I question with a shake of my head.

“Because,” she says with a knowing voice, “if he would go through all the trouble of making sure you had food, a horse, and enough knowledge to escape, that pretty much screams love.”

Again, I shake my head. “No, we were very close. No romance was in our relationship.”

“Did he feel the same way?”

I don't answer, because I don't know. She is right, he went through a lot to make sure I was safe, and that I would know how to escape. I glance down from the old path to see Azjin's brown eyes looking up at me with expectation. Finally, I sigh. “I don't know how he felt about me. We had talked about if we ever got out, and if we had to marry, we would definitely choose each other.”

That seemed to satisfy her. “So, you did love him.”

I consider this, and nod. “As a brother, yes.”

“As a husband?”

“Azjin,” I growl, getting seriously agitated. “I didn't love him like that. Maybe someday, if he was alive, I would grow to love him like that. But he is nothing more than a brother. A dead brother, so can we please just stop talking about him?” I felt my throat crack, but I ignore the tears threatening and mask it with anger. Azjin head ducks, and I think I hear her mumble sorry. Against my usual caring self, I don't care. I am angry at her for even bringing up Dantem.

Just leave him alone! I know he is dead, so stop giving me hope!

Hope has never done anything for me. No one knows how many time I have cried in my cot when I was younger, hoping my mother would come back for me. Hoping that someone will save me from my nightmare of a life never saved me from the bruises and cuts on my body or the fear of Quaden and the other sick minded keepers. Hoping Dantem and I could sneak food away from the pantry without being caught was a waste of precious time. Hoping that Dantem is alive will only result as the others. Only brings me more pain and anger.

As I think back through my sad tale, a constant question strikes my mind. Who was Azjin before this happened? Why is she a slave? Was she sold like me, was she stolen then sold, or what? I now regret my anger, and let it fade away. For all I know, she has had a worse life than mine.