Year 765 The Storm Crawler Charge

Connor did not think he would find this place comfortable enough to sleep. He had two volatile people near them; the storm continues to pelt the surface of this strange place and finally these bedding last occupant were of his dead in-laws. All justifiable reasons to stay awake but his wife’s warmth and the exhaustion from the travels weighs him down this time. He groggily eyes at the doorway flimsily covered by a cloth then at the painting to then the hunting horn.

He did not get the chance to ask about it and just like many other questions about his wife’s messy past it had to wait. Rhea soft snoring tickles his skin near his collarbone, her left cheek plants on his chest, and her fingers held onto the Kroathik pendant. If he moves, she might wake or at least that is what he used to think. Erathea would need to flip on its side for her to stir. Especially this last strange week where Rhea started to behave differently. When Rhea visited Sabol and Connor had to pretend that he didn’t find it suspicious. At the time he felt like it was his ugly possessiveness over his wife that came back. After all, she deserves the opportunity to talk to other people besides him.

However, he would never confirm if there was something he should know. He just prioritizes this heist over what could be the reason for their increased visits. And he had a horrible nagging sense that could very well have been his worst mistake he made. Worst than the time he enlisted her to infiltrate Damascus manor as a slave. He’s the asshole.

The keys will change everything. Connor took a heavy sigh, none of these concerns can be satisfied until they get back. That is enough of a justification to finally allow himself some sleep.

Connor is awakened by the lack of Rhea’s presence. It kicks starts his instincts and he jolts up right to squint around. It is too dark for his liking and Rhea is not in bed with him. Without the fire to light this place he almost thought he is just merely having a strange dream. A strange dream nearly turning into a nightmare, at least not seeing, or hearing Rhea at all might as well be a nightmarish situation to him.

Where did she go? Connor palms the wall to find his way right out this room as soon as he could feel the cloths. It is even dark here, the only shine of light coming from the open hatch on the ground that leads straight out. Connor cusses to himself, knowing this had to be the only way she ran off to. The two maniacs haven’t shown themselves nor did he want to wake them for their assistance. Connor rather cut his hands off then ask Azar for help ever again after the little tantrum the Vhaltian pulled yesterday. He’s lucky to have his empty skull…

There is no point in thinking anymore of it, he needs to find his wife by now. Connor saunters over to the hatch and climbs right down. He nearly got blinded by the light of early dawn.

Manuk’s throne is not even up high in the sky yet, Connor wouldn’t be able to tell with these tall trees. It is so dark in Rhea’s old home there is no way of telling what time it is. He had more questions; how did three mortals survive this place and live in such a dark and cramp space? Connor expected more than this. Perhaps, being born of royalty he is more attuned to bigger places. Even the manor in the Isles is bigger.

Then again it just could be Connor is tall for a Moarin. The only other person that is taller than him is Sabol. Cid, Vaphicus and Mikael are half-giants they only fall under clans that are not Moarin. Their clan no longer exist thanks to the Spice Wars.

Connor searches for Rhea, making these large footprints on the mud, and saw she is not right outside like he hoped. Only trees and the fields greet him here. Where could she have gone?

The worry comes back and he draws his gun, cussing that he left the rifle and sword inside. It is just not wise to go back for them when Rhea is somewhere out there. He inspects the ground next trying to find any clue. After some intense searching, the captain finally finds fresh footprints. The footprints made by a mortal and these ones are quite small comparison to many adult footprints. Now he could tell they do belong to Rhea, few people have small feet like her who also chose to not wear shoes too. Connor follows the trail, enough to keep in clear sight of it. Yet he wants nothing more then to rush to find her, with the threats of the pandemic and the Kraxxian clan his need to find her is almost unbearable.

Why did she run off?

There is no way he could get an answer without her to tell him, and he has all the good reasons to demand some answers. This is not just reckless but idiotic, Connor knows his wife is not idiotic.

His heart drops at the realization, these footprints lead right in the jungle. Now, he might retract his good faith in her intelligence.

There must be a reason. He chants this in his mind to keep himself from being too outright mad. Her safety is what matters first right now, and she is terrible at staying safe.

He took the plunge into the leafy foliage, fighting through the wet branches and hanging vines. Life here stirs, filling the foreboding silence with their songs. This is a huge change from the sounds of the infected vessels. Still, even if there is no horde there are still dangerous animals with that same dangerous environment. It eludes the worried captain how any mortals strive here.

The thickness of the branches lessens enough for him to increase his pace. He inspects the ground again and found more of her footprint leading further in. With one glance around him for danger, he continues his chase.

There is no way of telling how long he’s been following the trail. Too long in his opinion, every breath of time made Rhea’s status more uncertain.

Then a voice tickles his eardrum.

“Ghus van sri junjo ko shika, javra?” (What are you doing all on your own, child?)

Connor could tell it is Rhea speaking even if it is all in Krax, he is forever grateful of Adenaya. Even if Adenaya’s dangerous husk is still roaming around, he will always remember her kindness towards him despite his background.

Connor follows her voice, stopping right behind a tree and peeking around the bend of the bark. He saw her, Rhea’s reddened tipped curls are the first thing he could see since her back is turn towards him. She knelt before a twisted looking downed mass that has looks fossilized by some sort of event he could not figure out. He would go straight to her already if it isn’t for this young Krax female-around six years old-staring at Rhea like she is a new toy. This child already had markings around the finger and a scar below her belly button that descends further underneath the leather wrappings. Her skin is darker than Rhea, with hair coils tight against her scalp. The child owns a brilliant set of hazel irises that is almost steel around the edges and splashes light brown in the center.

Krax are known to have mahogany brown to varying hazel to green eyes. It’s rare for them to have light colors, Rhea being mix explains away her silver eyes a bit though not entirely.

This child isn’t mix. She crawls closer to Rhea but kept her distance at arms length. The Krax girl points at Rhea then to her own eyes. “Viash skii. Jip kipa Saroel?” (Moon eyes. Are you seer?)

Rhea didn’t answer, the expression shows more to Connor. The tear stains on her face bend with the sadden frown. It took some time for her to answer the curious girl. “Falli saroel.  Ghiskar fashie? “(Not Seer. Where is your family?)

The girl pouts, now sitting next to Rhea as if they are in friendly terms. She didn’t even look at Rhea, just playing with the grass. “Fashie koshki.” (They died.)

Rhea’s lip quivers but then she spouts this finding fortitude somewhere. “Me fashi koshki. Pijona gash fashi.” (My family died too. But I have new family now.)

Connor felt the warmth from Rhea’s words alone; he wants to be there with her. Yet he knows the moment he shows himself that little girl will vanish in the trees.

“Vish skii! Losh hashik vara?” (Moon eyes, do you not see?)  This little girl made a gesture when Rhea looks at her, one Connor cannot understand. It is some sort of sign language.

“Eh?” Rhea’s eyes bug out, and Connor is desperate to know what causes this reaction. If only someone didn’t barge in to interrupt their conversation.

A different Krax woman shows up, with the spear that points at Rhea. This one also had scars on her stomach, the only difference is the markings on her finger circle only a stub of a finger. This one had eyes that are a lighter brown. This woman hisses with every intent to throw the spear if her threat isn’t taken seriously. “Lish javra, varja vurl” (Leave the child be, lava girl.)

“Varja vurl?” The child stares at Rhea then that relaxed behavior from earlier is long gone. She steps away from Rhea, more scared than anything. Her protector could have enough hatred for the two of them.

“Serdono, javra.” (I’m sorry, child.) Rhea stood up with a heavy sigh; she glares at the other older female with all the contempt. Her fingertips redden which is a sign she is tapping into her fire, “Dis chaka xosh, vishkas saroel.” (This is my territory, dumb seer)

Connor could not stand aside any longer, revealing his location with a gun aimed at the spear wielding woman. His approach is loud, deliberate, and made sure to threaten in their language so there is no confusion, “Sri iash kres.” (You heard her.)

“Ra ghist!” (A ghost.) The child and the older Krax woman peer at Connor as if he is a mythical creature. He didn’t see Rhea’s reaction, only focus on the enemy. The child eventually ran behind the seer woman to quiver while her protector hisses. “Ees von llin.” (We will leave.)

The seer drags the shaking child away, not at all pausing for him to even lower his pistol. All he saw is that child, peering back at them with fear coloring those strange eyes. He almost felt guilty to bring that kind of fear on a child, then again, her bodyguard look too ready to hurt his wife. With his current state of mind, he didn’t have enough patience to be gentle.

Once they vanish in the growth of the jungle, Connor heard shuffling behind him, and he finally looks at Rhea. She knelt beside the strange mass with a deep frown on her face. It is as if she didn’t recognize how worried he is, and it agitates him.

With one annoyed exhale he ambles till he is right next to Rhea but is still standing. He felt if he got any closer that he would forget how infuriated he is. Her explanation the only thing that could change whether he should yell at her or console her.

“I…do not know how I got here.” Rhea finally braves to explain but this is the oddest statement he has ever heard. Only drunk people say things like that but here she is sober and claiming no knowledge. It sounds insane.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Connor’s sharp tone had her wince, and he meant to. She is incapable of lying; her only other method is never bringing up the conversation in the first place. He just couldn’t let her slip through his attention, especially when she snuck away while he was sleeping.