Rozmarie & Josiah

Josiah

It'd been a day since I left.

I tried not thinking about Rozmarie, but it wasn't going so well. She snuck up on me often, when the silent moments came crashing into one another and I found it difficult to concentrate. Against my better judgment, Rozmarie had become my refuge, my safe haven, and it was moments like this, when it was most quiet, that I pictured her hair in front of me. Her dark magenta locks wound into those messy buns on the back of her head. And her neck, so soft and slender and tempting in front of me.

I closed my eyes.

When I missed her enough, I thought about her asleep in the bed, her hair spread around her. I wanted to go back. I wanted to crawl beside her and lose myself in her warmth again.

But I left.

No goodbye. No nothing. She probably hated me now. I kind of hated me. But I couldn't bring her along. She wouldn't be safe and I couldn't afford any more pain.

"What do you say, Gypsy?" I stroked her black mane. "Ready for a break?"

She grumbled a whinny. The sun was starting to set again which meant Gypsy had been going straight for a nearly six hours without rest. An exceptional horse, even she wasn't immune to exhaustion, so I slowed her to a trot as we approached the Middle Grounds and the dark shapes in the distant that grew more distinct and familiar.

We'd just come through here days before. And so much had changed since then. So much had occurred in that short span of time. I couldn't believe it. Where we'd gone, what we'd seen...what we'd done. Shaking my head to clear it out, I directed Gypsy past the trees and led us into the forest, heading for the small lake.

"Let's get you a drink," I dismounted and steered her toward the water. "You've been going strong, girl," I patted her mane as she dipped her head to the cool liquid. "All day."

Something rustled in the distance. I turned on cue, gripped a blade handle and scanned the nearby fauna. We were in the Middle Grounds, so it wasn't uncommon to hear things, not like out in the White Wastelands. Trees shook against one another, water lapped over itself and down bubbling brooks and lakes, and even the wind contributed a verse. I gave our surroundings another thorough scan before returning to watch Gypsy drink.

I knew among everything that perception was a lie. Danger lurked everywhere and it was up to those best trained never to forget it. The last time Gypsy and the rest of us had passed through these parts, so had the Quantara soldiers, and we'd barely gotten by. It was only two of us now, but if the men in red found their way over, they'd have a new threat.

Josiah-the-Swift-and-Magical.

Maybe I'd work on the title.

It'd be good practice, though, taking on an entire fleet by myself. It'd prove I could make it to Micah. Alone. By sneaking into the palace once I found what cell they'd kept him in. Who knew-maybe I'd even develop mind control. Dido said it might happen; actually he said anything might happen. Any kind of magical powers could awaken in us. And if the others in Quantara hadn't realized the change yet, I'd have the advantage.

"Drink up, girl," I patted Gypsy and then took a seat against a tree. She gulped down the water enthusiastically and I adjusted to the comfort of leaning against a hard surface. Gypsy was thirsty and I was tired. Dead tired. We'd traveled the entire night before but it was getting harder and harder to ward off sleep. Water hung in the darkening air as I threaded my fingers over my stomach, breathing it in. Maybe a few minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt. Just a rejuvenation nap.

With this thought in mind, I took a deep breath and let myself go.

***

I opened my eyes.