#11

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

There was an echo resonating through the darkness. The words were muffled and I could not understand what she said. I could feel her moving against me as she was talking in her sleep. My eyes had a hard time adjusting to the barely lit environment. Gradually I could distinguish various shapes, although I could not recognise their form as something familiar. The moon was covered by a blanket of clouds and the night was darker than usual.

Her head was resting on my shoulder and her steady breath gave me comfort. She groaned a little as she moved even closer. I put my arm around her and softly pressed her against me. I swore I would not be able to live without her and these past few weeks had been a true test to that promise. Ever since we escaped from Ravenflight, The City In The Wall, we had been on the run. At first there had been a few minor incidents, the people of Dravrenum did not take kindly to weary travellers like ourselves. Our appearance and exotic weaponry certainly didn’t do us much good either. But the deeper we rode into the backlands the more aggressive we were treated. The more we had to fight.

Nestarsia was an easy target with her small frame and delicate looks. Her dark hair and jade green eyes made her stand out. The size of the longsword she carried around only added to that. And of course with her sharp tongue and bad temper, she could easily escalate even a simple greeting into a heated bar fight. I loved every aspect of her, treasured it dearly. But at the same time cursed it whenever we needed to run from an angry group of locals, yet again.

I softly touched the scar on her neck, thinking back on how she got it. The arrow had graced the soft tissue and flirted with her life. Almost taking it. I had never felt so powerless and desperate. We had seen chaos and despair in many of its forms, but never had that feeling of fear come so close as it did that day.

She carried my heart in her hand and I wish she took better care of it.