Prince from Paradise | ✔

XXIV. Sanguine Vows

Adar

"Miraj, are you sure?"

His best friend sighed as he ran a hand down his face, stroking the stubble of a beard on his chin. "I'm trying, Adar. I really am," he inhaled a deep breath. "Here's the issue, I am not sure if my connections can get you far enough from all this."

Adar snapped his head to his friend, eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?" he questioned when a series of chaos ran through his mind, his mentality trembling at the possible outcomes.

If he did not take his wife away soon, then their hiding place will be known all too well. The villagers still did not know of his marriage or to where he disappeared to. They were too focused on looting the ashed property to care about his personal affairs, yet if they discovered his secret anytime soon, then the future would become marred with more bloodshed and death.

His wife did not deserve to go through all that again. He knew she was capable of using grief as a stepping stone for strength, but he also knew of the limitations of mankind. One could be pushed so far until the chains to their sanity broke and shattered into pieces. Madness consumed even the purest souls, and he was determined to protect her.

Only Aunt Tania knew of their marriage it seemed. From the way Adar held his wife in front of her, there was no way that she did not deduce from their interactions. Granted, she was very distracted at the thought of ruining her children's lives, delirious with disbelief, yet there was a lingering evil still hidden in her eyes, the hunger-crazed expression to finish what she started.

He had no doubt that she would maintain her loyalty to the villagers until it was too late. And that was out of Adar's control.

"America is a country that's very holistic about who it lets into its country," his friend said simply, sitting in a chair within Adar's hideout apartment. It was the only place he could keep his wife safe from hunting villagers and prying soldiers. "As for countries like the United Kingdom and Canada, they have similar setbacks when it comes to seeking refuge from a war. Unless these countries see potential value in your writings and talent, I'm afraid your voyage cannot be done."

Desperation clawed at the surface, a wild, grim fear striking within him like a bolt of lightning slicing through his soul till the wrath of the universe fell upon his feeble, weak form. He tried everything in his power, did everything he could, and still he was left at cross ends, left with dust withering away as his future drained in front of him.

He promised his in-laws that he would take Rabiya away, and he intended to keep his word.

"What about your business friend in America?" asked Adar, taking the seat across from him. "Can't he sponsor me to go overseas or sign some documents that deem me legal to enter the states?"

Miraj stroked his chin, brown eyes deep in thought as the calculative and methodical man he knew presented itself. His friend's fingers tapped against the wooden table, a loud sound that increased its speed and frequency as an idea began to unravel around them, a quick spin of events that ultimately led to success.

"I got it!" exclaimed Miraj as he stood up, a triumphant smile playing on his lips. "You were on to something with the documents. I remember reading an article about visas to America could be in the form of seeking work for a business. All my friend would have to do is sponsor you, and we could fill out the rest of the documents."

"Won't all that take too long? Miraj, I do not have months to spare. There are rumors about my identity and students are being slaughtered for sharing the same sentiments as my letters."

"Yes, yes, I know," said Miraj, pacing from one end of the room to the other, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. Stress lines were evident across his forehead, creasing the skin as a bead of sweat fell from his hairline. "There has to be some way to speed up the process. I am missing a crucial part here," he muttered to himself.