The War of the Isles

24. Mila

It had been three days with Mr. Mooncanter, The Messenger and Jenna Becker. The Messenger had chosen to take us northwards to Otosi. 

He had filled me and Jenna Becker on all the details about Cracks appearing all over the world. 

What our tribe had called Rynok was indeed here. Every tribe in the Isles had a different version of stories surrounding the Rynok. But the common understanding was the same. The Rynock or the crack was another dimension which had the ability to influence animals from our dimension. 

The Messenger never revealed his name. I did bring up the question many times, but he refused by stating that, "Time will show you my name." When I asked him what was he, he simply said, "All in good time." For three days he had managed to persuade Jenna and I to come with us. But we were now beginning to get impatient.

As far as Jenna Becker was concerned, she had mostly been quiet so far. She seemed depressed given the loss of her father in the commotion in Ravenburg. But now, she kept repeating to herself that she was not a seymon, nor was she a witch. 

"I swear to you, Messenger. Please let me just go home! I don't even remember closing the crack."

We were now in the centre of a small Villege which stood on the path towards Otosi. Mr. Mooncanter stood beside me running.

My anger had finally gotten the better of me and I had chosen to argue with the Messenger right while we were resticking for supplies in the village market.

The Messenger seemed unmoved.

"This has been enough!" I protested. "We deserve some information at least."

I looked at Jenna who nodded. The Messenger continued to walk by and stock himself with supplies. He paid a hefty sum to the shopkeeper who smiled.

"Jenna and I will not fucking accompany you unless you give us some information!" I complained, stopping on my tracks.

The Messenger finally stopped and looked at us. 

"Jenna Becker, Khizirana Mila. I am afraid that sharing certain information at the wrong time is dangerous."

I flinched at my title being called out. But I was persistent.

"How do you know so much about us?"

The Messenger looked at the two of us and smiled calmly. 

"I was told that you were a being of a difficult temperament. Khizirana Mila-"

"Stop fucking calling me that!" I said, with determination. I have a horse, and it can carry two people! Speak now or fuck off to Otosi or Medini, wherever the fuck you want."

The Messenger ran his fingers through his short blonde hair. Despite my rage, I had to admit, that he was handsome.

"You are the Khizirana of your tribe are you not?"

Jenna looked confused. "What's a Khizirana."

"A Khizirana is the title given to the next chief of an Islandic tribe. For Mila's tribe here, the Smahans - they are always headed by a woman are they not? Khizirana loosely translates to a Crown Princess does it not?"

I glared at him with rage. "What do you know about my way? How can I even trust you?"

"Isn't saving you life worth the trust Khizirana," The Messenger replied.

"Shut your fucki-"

"Messenger please," Jenna interrupted. "Give us something. She does have a point. We cannot travel with you without knowing our destination. Besides, you might even be an Achman spy. Why should we trust you?"