CIA
I remember Azriel's favor, that I never asked for, and hope he won't turn it into some sort of a bigl deal when he shows up.
That is if he shows up.
I've been keeping an eye on the time displayed on my watch, aware with every minute passing that this might just become the biggest letdown of my life.
It's 6:08 a.m.
I've been in the hut for more than half an hour now.
I don't see or understand what's taking him so long. He knows I'm expecting him here, there's no way he doesn't; everything that's been on my mind since last night is the meeting with him and he can sneak in and out of that place at any time he wants without me even noticing.
Azriel hasn't made himself noticeable but I'm not naïve to think he hasn't peeked into my mind in the last hours.
It is Azriel after all.
My hand absently tightens around my thigh, stilling the tapping of my foot on the creaking wood floor. It's the only way for me to keep myself busy when I'm not exactly walking back and forth, rearranging the cans on the shelves or simply staring out the window.
The sight outside is different than what it looked like just a few days ago. Sky bright with new morning light, no stars but clouds scattered all over and no smoke rising to the air.
No storm.
Some of the trees within sight have turned grey, leaves crumbled on the ground, limbs gone so weak, the littlest force could snap them into two.
A testimony of them standing in flames, burning.
There's a free space between remnants of what used to be a tree and an actual tree next to it that seemingly survived the fire.
I recognize my reflection standing in that free spot.
I don't really look out of place there.
Grey, exhausted, weak.
Empty.
Hopefully on the way to regaining that strength.
I keep staring into my eyes, at the three golden specks reflected in the glass of the window. For some reason, when they're standing out and shining as brightly as they do in this moment, I am always drawn to them. Growing up I was under the impression that they were just the rays of the sun beaming into my eyes, I'd blink so many times, thinking they would fade, but they never did.
Their color only either got more radiant or it faded, blending into darker tones.
Sometimes it burns me.
My eyes travel lower, below my head but there's not much to see, the black color of the clothes definitely doing its job perfectly.
If the trees didn't lose their mighty crowns, if the sun didn't send her rays shining right through the forest, I wouldn't be able to make out the outlines of my body in the gloom.
My gaze lifts back up to the eyes - eyes that I expect to be staring back intently at me like before, the same gold gleaming in the iris.
But I'm met with nothing.
No reflection, no eyes, no sun, no forest, no outer world.
And I know my waiting has come to an end.
Azriel has arrived.
"Just so you know," the shadow shifting behind me starts speaking before I turn around, "I hate waking up early."
Azriel has fully stepped out of his place of concealment in the darkness and our gazes meet. He looks exactly, down to the very smallest detail, like he did the last time we met.
Except for the expression on his face.
"I really hate waking up early."
I guess that might explain why his face is screwed up like he's annoyed. Or mad.
YOU ARE READING
Ya'aburnee
FantasyWill you play the dark or will the dark play you? Cia was born with a part of her skin inked. She doesn't know that it makes her one of them until she finds out what the flames on her wrist mean. She is a target. The ultimate machine the Ghost-Re...
