Chapter 2

“He’s killing himself!” the thought consumed Alyanna.

It'd been over a week since their escape and the abuse he’d faced, coupled with Cearth’s use of magic, had taken their toll on him. He appeared deflated. Alyanna could see bones jutting from under her husband’s skin. Sustenance in the desert was scarce and he had already used the rest of the seeds he carried to grow enough food to sustain her and their developing child. Cearth refused to eat more than just a few bites for himself each day.

“What kind of monster would put himself before his wife and unborn child?” Was his only reply whenever she begged him to eat more. 

Alyanna knew the desert intimately, it was in her blood. The name of her people ‘Ashkani’ actually meant “born of the sand” in their language. Cearth, however, was one with the forest, and the desolation of the desert wore on him. His world was that of the wet, carpeted, woodlands. The desert was starvation to his kind.

Cearth tried to never show fear in front of his wife, but Alyanna saw it in his eyes when he wasn’t aware of her gaze.

She knew he would walk until his legs fell off to get her and the baby to safety and with each step Alyanna’s love for her husband expanded. Cearth’s unwavering dedication and strength fueled her devotion.

*****

On the ninth day of avoiding the Ashkani patrols Cearth collapsed from exhaustion.

She couldn’t stand it anymore.

Alyanna would not watch her husband slowly kill himself.

She would save him no matter the cost.

Alyanna took the saddle cover they carried from the horse they’d long abandoned, and placed the wool blanket over Cearth’s unresponsive shivering body. “My love for you is more than the sand in the desert my dear,” she whispered into his ear and brushed his curly locks away to plant a tender kiss on his forehead.

Alyanna stood and began to run at a supernaturally fast pace, drawing kinetic energy from the nature around her, leaving a wake of supercooled air behind her. 

Alyanna's feet led her west towards the disputed border where she knew that she’d have to do little looking to find a patrol of Lumo warriors.

She risked all their lives, but watching her husband sacrificing his health for her safety, Alyanna knew that this was their only chance at survival, so she ran hard and kept running until she stumbled into the midst of a startled group of guards.

The Lumo warriors circled and trained their long spears on her. Each held an ornate leather shield with distinct familial patterns.

“What are you doing here Ashkani!” a tall deep-voiced man demanded of her. His large number of piercings showed him to be the commander. 

“Answer him!” another shouted in highly accented La’av; the trade tongue that had been developed by Tong monks in centuries past.

“I said answer him!” he shouted, not giving her time to catch her breath as he delivered a swift kick to her swollen stomach, crumpling her. 

“No! I’m with child!”  She cried, instinctually covering her belly. 

“Why should I care? One less Ashkani bastard is fine by me,” he said, a bitter smile crossing his face as he pulled his leg back to deliver another blow. 

“It’s not Ashkani!” Alyanna screamed desperately.

He planted his leg into the sand. 

“What do you mean, it’s not Ashkani? Are you not an Ashkani oppressor?” he interrogated Alyanna, lifting her chin with the butt of his spear to gauge the truth in her eyes. 

“I’ve devoted myself to Cearth of the Abrax. I am his bride and carry his child in my womb,” Alyanna’s eyes lit with a mixture of pride, worry, and defiance as she stared into the warrior’s eyes.

“She carries the child of an Abrax!” he shouted in astonishment, his look of astonishment was mirrored in the eyes of his Totem, a leopard. 

“Where’s this Abrax that poured his seed into you!”

“I will lead you to him if you promise me safety,” she bargained. 

“Why would we harbor you and your child?” he asked, bluffing an indifference that Alyanna immediately caught. 

“You know exactly why. You also know why you have to follow me and rescue my husband,” she told him, knowing that despite his posturing, he would have no choice but to cave to her demands.

The bond they’d formed in her womb held magic not seen in centuries.

“Fine. You’ll lead a group of five to him. If this is some a trap though, know this. You and your whole family will die, torn apart by beasts as they sleep,” the big man warned. He carried death in his eyes. 

Alyanna nodded.

*****

“Here is where I left him!” Alyanna cried in desperation as she fell to her knees, tired and overwhelmed. 

She’d drawn energy from her surroundings to keep herself going, but magic was no replacement for food, and the less Alyanna ate, the weaker her magic became and the harder it was to keep focused.

“This is a trap you Ashkani worm!” a tall warrior with only one eye yelled at her. The disfigured man drew his spear to impale her. 

“Hold!” the heavily pierced and tattooed squad leader halted his subordinate with an upheld hand. 

“She may still be telling the truth and he could’ve gone searching for her. If her story is true we cannot afford to kill her and whatever chance we may have of gaining an Abrax as our servant. It’s been decades since our last one,” he addressed his small squad. “Lesotha, you, Dwothi, and Afoyo fan out and search for any signs of an ambush. Waddi and I will stay with the girl and track down her mate,” his voice sounded like the leopard standing by his side. 

The three quickly rushed off, their long limbs graceful despite the often shifting sands.  As Alyanna watched them go, she was reminded of the gazelles that roamed the borders of the Ashkani and Lumo lands. 

“Start moving!” the leader hissed at her.

Alyanna hadn’t caught his name, as it was Lumo custom to refer to leaders strictly by rank. He jabbed her with the butt of his spear and broke her out of the reverie she hadn’t realized she’d been in. 

Alyanna marched forward softly, moving like a desert cat over the sand, leading the two warriors in the search for her husband. Alyanna prayed to find her beloved. 

After nearly a half an hour of searching, she caught Cearth’s trail. Alyanna smiled, impressed by her husband’s stealth.

“I’ve found his trail. Follow me,” she said as she bent and inspected the bent tuft of grass at the base of a small dune.

The tattooed leader made a sharp whistle that he repeated in sets of four. Minutes later the three Lumo scouts materialized from the surrounding dunes. They jogged up to their leader and stood in attention, their long spears held by their sides. 

“Yes sir,” the three said in unison seeing the command in their leaders eyes.

Alyanna was impressed with their tight knit cohesion. Her kind were the opposite, they were fiercely independent people who strove to outdo each other in every accomplishment. The Ashkani were a strong, but ruthless people; the Lumo in contrast, were deeply loyal. They reminded Alyanna of the stories of wolf packs she had heard of from Cearth.

Just how much of their personalities did they share with their Totems? 

The three younger warriors quickly loped away and scoured the desert for more signs of a trail.

It was a slow process; Cearth’s stealth was truly impressive. There were non among her’s or the Lumo people that matched him. 

“He truly is child of nature. It tells him where to walk.” Alyanna thought as the youngest of the warriors, Afoyo, let out a shrill whistle indicating he’d picked up the trail again. 

The rest of the small band fell in with him, looking as he picked up a seed. 

“That’s a willow seed, it’s his favorite tree.” Alyanna said, fighting back tears. She was terrified at what must’ve happened to cause him to drop it. “I once asked him why he hadn’t used it to escape after he’d been taken captive. He told me he was going to, but then he saw me and knew that he would gladly give up his freedom to stay by my side. That was the night I knew he was the one I was appointed to share my life with. He always kept the seed with him, as a reminder of his past life.”

The leader of the pack huffed, not impressed by her story.

“Look here,” one of the soldiers called out from over the dune he’d gone to inspect.

  They found him pointing to the ground when they arrived. 

“There’s blood,” he said, nodding at the light rust color coating the sand. He kneeled down and pinched it in his hands. “It’s still wet. This blood is fresh. There was a fight,” he said as he pointed to the tale-tale signs of a struggle.

Large splatters of blood covered the sands, as well as the remains of a plant that none of them were familiar with. 

“No!” Alyanna cried, her hands covering her mouth in horror as she took in the scene. “No! No! No! Please don’t let him be dead! Please!” she begged, falling to her knees and weeping.

“Come! I’ve found something!” the warrior called Dwothi said. He had been scouting the surrounding areas. 

“Get up woman,” the leader of the band harshly commanded Alyanna. There was no pity to be found in his voice.

She obeyed.

“It looks like your Abrax is a fighter,” Dwothi said as they reached him and found him standing in the midst of the bodies of three skewered Ashkani warriors. 

“What’s that?” Lesotha asked, pointing to a patch of green on the crest of a neighboring dune. 

“That has to be Cearth!” Alyanna shouted and started to sprint east in the direction the Lumo warrior had pointed.

Seconds later Totem’s surrounded her. “You’re trying to lead us to a trap!” one of the Lumo said as he caught up and leveled his spear at her. 

“No I’m not! That’s my husband he pointed to! That’s your precious Abrax!” She shouted as shoved the spear aside and jogged past the snarling leopard of the leader towards her fallen husband.

It was him. Blood leaked from dozens of wounds. Vines surrounded him like a shield.

“Give me your knife!” Alyanna demanded Lesotha, who’d followed her closely. He begrudgingly loosed it from its sheath and tossed it at her feet. “Help my cut these vines away! Hurry!”