The Destined Protector (The Chronicles of Mistar - Book 1)

One · · · Monta (.2)

Monta heard the muffled sound of a door shutting. He ran to the window and saw Tapalla standing in her doorstep dressed in his clothes, his red socks folded on the top of his boots. She wasn't wearing the normal Gazar dress or skirt with fur leggings like most of the girls wore. Instead, she had Monta's warmest sweatpants with his long wool shirt that fell to her mid-thighs. Over the top of the shirt was Monta's best coat fur coat made from an alpon's hide.

Clicking her boots together, Tapalla strode out into the three feet of snow. Holding her arms, her face turned ice blue from the cold and lips now navy. Tapalla licked her lips and walked behind her house.

As quickly as he could, Monta threw on his second warmest clothes and boots and ran outside. He was used to the cold so he ran through the snow with ease. Tapalla was no longer where he last saw her, so he followed her tracks that led over the hill behind their houses.

On the top of the hill, Monta found her frail body on the bottom of it looking into the sunset. Monta slowly walked down the hill and sat next to her in the snow.

"I'll be eleven tomorrow," she said, her voice soft and gentle.

Monta huffed. It almost sounded like a laugh. "That's funny. I'll be eleven in two days."

Tapalla didn't say anything and she didn't look at Monta. Her eyesight led his gaze to the sun that was disappearing under the clouds of snow. They sat in silence until the sun had disappeared fully.

"The sunset in Lotna was never like this," Tapalla mused. Just then, Monta noticed she was talking in perfect Gaza. He waved it off though. He would have to ask her later.

"How were they different?" Monta asked.

"Bigger," replied Tapalla. She still didn't look at him.

Monta raised an eyebrow at her. "How? Because we have a pretty big sunset here on Gazar."

Tapalla laughed as she wiped her hair off of her blue face. "Not like that. People on Lotna would celebrate the sunset every night. It was a tradition and I miss the parties they used to have when it's last glow cast a purple light on the trees just before it went under Lotna's oceans, but I don't want to heavy you with my sorrows."

She shook her head and finally turned to look at him. Her eyes were still as beautiful as they were when he first saw them through the little window in his house. They sparkled like Mistar and flowed like the Milky Way.

Monta looked to the night sky. There was still a purple and yellow glow that was cast along the bright snow, but above his head, Monta could see the stars coming out.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I guess we don't do that here, but how you describe it, it sounds kinda fun."

Tapalla laughed again. "You're just a charmer."

Monta nodded at her response. "I'd like to believe so."

Tapalla's face turned serious again. "I've been here for a full year and I haven't seen any of you Gazarans come outside to enjoy the wonders of your world. Why is my question."

"Warmth," he said. "The Gazar people want warmth over being out in the cold. Who wants to be freezing their tail off when they can be near a hot fire. Plus, the only foods we grow here are maron root and chuatta root. One of them isn't even actual food."

"I know," said Tapalla. "Before I left Lotna I learned as much about Gazar as I could."

"Why did you leave Lotna anyway?" Monta asked.

Tapalla shook her head and closed her eyes as if a sudden pain took over her. When she opened them she said, "I don't want to talk about."

"Okay," was all Monta said in return. He didn't want to prod.