Freedom's Horizon: Spirit of Belize (WLW)

Part Two: Chapter Fifteen

Nearly One Year Later, June 1747, Roatan Island

Genny sat along the shores of Roatan, several yards away from the festivities happening within the encampment and with her hand braced over her breast. Peeking back over her shoulder, she watched the jovial villagers dance with the newly married couple also swaying to the rhythm of the drums and fiddle thrumming away. She halfheartedly smiled as she saw the joyous expressions all bore, yet felt it only saddening her more.

Lana and Trevor were married and serendipitous in their union, laughing along with the others around them as they celebrated the happy union, though Genny feared such an occasion may never become hers. Aimlessly staring back out at the vast ocean, she clutched her pullover and vest in a tight fist as she thought of the one person with whom she'd found ultimate peace. The image of Ines sailing away within that tiny canoe as the crew kept Zyanya and her loyalists at bay, Genny's heart had broken into thousands of tiny pieces she worried may never retain their once harmonic shape.

She searched the water for any indication that she might soon be joined by that very person returning with the key to her salvation, yet saw no such person. Genny knew it was foolishness, sitting there night after night with the promise of reuniting and knowing there was a very good chance that day may never come. Nearly a year had passed since she last saw the love of her life and each day plodded on slower than the last, yet there was no reprieve.

No hope.

Or at least, it would have been helpful if there was in fact no chance of solace. No chance of achieving that earlier splendor. Oh, how lovely it would have been to change history, to cast a spell to bring her love back, or to become completely ignorant to the pain Ines' departure caused. That day, that instance would never come. Not when the connection tethering them was still just as strong, if not stronger with each and every waking moment.

Splaying her hand along her chest now, she could still feel her. Genny could still recall the Ines' taste, the succulent sensation of her soft lips gliding in unison along hers. If she only could forget how the pure woman made her feel, but the truth was she never desired it. In fact, the only thing truly keeping her afloat was said tethering and she called on it for stamina in every little thing she did.

After accomplishing at least one of the goals Ines had given them, dispatching the Europeans flanking the island by force strongly enough to scare them away for the last ten months, the family hadn't left the island. Taking in refugees fleeing European slave trade or those who simply desired a simpler life with them, the community had grown again and those within created a new light even brighter than before. Still, it was not enough and Genny remained as if frozen in place, unable to do much else when her heart just wasn't in it anymore.

It was gone, traveling the globe in search of the one thing to adjoin their broken family once again. Colel was missing, never seen again after the battle along the coast of Belize. Felipe was convinced of her survival, but unlike Genny, he had children to raise and was unable to devote all his time to finding her. Still, his children needed a mother and Genny needed her love returned.

Unlike what was commanded, the family hadn't destroyed the Dagger of Sol. Pulling it free from the sash song her waist, Genny examined its length as she held it within a cloth, still incapable of holding it with bare hands. She glanced along its handle at the gems and stones set within the bronze coating, spotting something peculiar that wasn't there before. She couldn't count the number of times she'd looked at the blade, so why the bloody hell was something this obvious undisclosed before.

Genny leapt to her feet as she read the latin words carved into the handle, then bolted for Esme's tent. Although, she definitely should have made her presence known from outside of the canvased hut before barreling through and seeing an eyeful of something she could have gone her entire life without witnessing. Aimee had her legs up as she was curled in on herself, resting her back along Esme's thighs as she buried her face between her legs. Esme peeked up with wide eyes, then nonchalantly chuckled as Aimee covered her face and grasped at the sheets beneath herself.