Page 5 of Restoring the Ngozii

Chapter 3

Terax

“Don’tletyourguarddown. Could be the calm before the storm.” Turning on my heels, I march back to the village. Truer words may never have been said by me before. With all the different threats hanging over the village, this may very well be a calm before a storm. I can feel something in the air, something is coming. Whether it be simple change, a war, or something even worse, I’m not certain, but I know it’s heading this way.

One thing I won’t allow for myself is to become complacent, to let the danger sneak up on me and get the last laugh. We’ll all be ready, one way or another.

I continue my rounds through the village, checking on each of the guards to make sure things are going well. My feet pause in the center of the village, the buzzing of something in the trees catching my attention. I look up, following the sound, but whatever it is stays within the trees, unseen through the canopy of branches and leaves. It’s time we brought this to the lieutenant. Something needs done about this. Every time I hear that sound, my skin crawls, and warning zips up my spine. It’s dangerous, and I won’t have it harming my village. The sound quiets, disappearing towards the woods we hunt in, where nothing but animals live. Where is it going then, I wonder.

Dawn will be upon us soon, and my team will switch out with the next for morning patrol so that we may get a few hours of rest before watching our charges throughout the day. My feet continue on down the paths of the village, wandering as I patrol. Without thinking, my steps lead me to the new cabins near the lake, the ones housing the new kids and my mate. No, she’s not my mate, not yet, and not if I don’t claim her.

But can I truly ignore such a call from my own soul? The risk to myself, possibly even her, is too great to ignore, isn’t it? Can I truly risk our lives like that, and for what? My eyes find her room, the only window with open curtains and a small candle flickering on the sill. There’s just enough light to see her moving about in the room.

My hand lifts, rubbing across my scarred chest as I watch her shadow, a longing like none I’ve ever felt before pulling at me to go to her, to confess my love and vow to protect her for all of my life. I shake my head, knowing it’s a ridiculous thought. She could never love someone like me. I’m too scarred, too hard, too uncompromising in my life. I’m a warrior and nothing more. The air rushes from my lungs as memories plague me, playing like some sort of twisted movie behind my eyelids.

At four years old, I step out of my room to get some dinner, only to find Momma crying at the table. I tug on her sleeve, calling her name, and she sits up, looking down at me with anger. Her hand swings out, slapping me across the face, and I stumble back, falling on the floor in tears.

“It’s all your fault! Your father would be alive if he hadn’t had to save your life. You knew better, but you didn’t listen! You’re stupid, and look what it’s cost us!”

She bursts into tears, falling back onto the table, and I run to my room, crying alone in my bed as I wish I could turn back time.

My eyes flit back and forth behind my closed lids as I struggle for breath, my memories jumping through my life to remind me of everything I did wrong.

I’m woken from a deep sleep by my mother as she tugs me from bed and pulls me to the front door. Throwing me out of it, she then throws a bow and arrows, a knife, and a spear out the door at me before yelling, “Make yourself useful and hunt! You’re six years old, damnit. Grow up.” She slams the door, leaving me to sort it out myself.

I should have been hunting with Father at that age, learning to skin and trap, the basics for survival in this life. She wasn’t wrong to toss me out like that, it was my fault he wasn’t there for us. I needed to pick up the slack. As the sorrow of that realization hits me with immense force, the next memory starts, taking my breath from me once more.

Mother gives birth to a baby with her new mate, a little brother for me. Half or not, he’s my brother. As Mother holds the baby in her grasp, she begins to fall asleep. Her mate takes the baby, shaking her, screaming for help. Blood is pooling between her legs, and she’s not waking. By the time a healer makes it to us, she’s gone, and they take her away as he cries over his baby.

I wander off to my room, crying alone as I wonder what will happen now. Without Father, Mother didn’t truly love me. Her new mate doesn’t seem to care for me much more, either. My thoughts prove to be true when he barges into my room later that night and tells me I’m not welcome here any more. I’m not his child, not his responsibility. My weapons are thrown at my feet as I lie on the ground, gasping for breath after having it knocked from me as I was thrown from the porch.

What person throws out a nine year old child like this? However, he’s right, I’m not his responsibility, just his problem. Deciding that I’m better off on my own, I stalk off to find somewhere to sleep for the night. It seems Mother was right all those years ago, I messed up. I should be dead. It’s all my fault that my life is completely ruined.

Slumping next to a moss-covered tree that’s soft enough to sleep on, I cry as I kick myself for all of my struggles. If I had listened and stayed home, Father would be alive, Mother would be alive, and I’d be happy and loved. I don’t deserve to live when all I do is get those who love me killed.

Grass rustles, a growl sounds nearby, and I sit up, holding out my spear. It’s too dark to see well now, and fear has my hands shaking, my grip failing on the spear. Before I can stop it, a namirii charges from the brush, fangs bared, claws out, as it lunges for me. I scream, swinging my spear, but the big cat is upon me before I can even get up to run.

I press against the spear, the only thing keeping the cat’s teeth from sinking into me, but it does nothing to stop its swiping paws as it lashes at me again and again. The warmth of my own blood blankets me as I toss and turn, my fight failing as I grow weak, my screams dying down with my struggle.

Suddenly, the namirii slumps, no longer breathing or fighting, and I try to push its heavy weight from me, but I’m not strong enough. Several footsteps rush my way, and the namirii is lifted from me as I’m pulled into strong arms. “Don’t worry, son, we’ve got you. We’re gonna get you help.”

The man holds me tight as he runs through the woods, rushing back to the village’s light flickering in the distance. Before I get the chance to see my savior’s face, I fall into the darkness, waking several hours later alone.

My hand slides along my chest again, feeling the raised bumps of the scars that litter my body, marking me as a freak among my people while reminding me that life is cruel and often leaves me alone.

In my prepubescent years, I become a pariah. None of the kids in the school want anything to do with me, they tease me, mock me, call me names, and push me away at every chance. Is there no love left in this world for me? Without a family, and nearing the age of adulthood where I’ll be able to find my soul-bound mate, I fear that I’ll never know such love in my life. I spend my days and nights in the woods, alone, sleeping on the ground or in the trees, wherever I can find shelter. With so few belongings, who needs a house? Refusing to let them get to me, I move on with my life, learning the skills I need to survive without them. My solitude keeps others alive, so it’s fine with me.

A lump forms in my throat at the next memory, reminding me of the only saving grace I had in this life and filling me with grief at their absence.

On the day I become a man, I’m accepted into the hunting team that rescued me that fateful day where I should have died, yet again. Being the only people in the village to accept me for who I am, they teach me the best tricks for hunting, help me learn to trap, skin, cook, and store food to help provide for the village, as well as myself.

As my adult life goes on, I become one of the best hunters in the village and grow to lead my own team of tough, awkward, loveless hunters. We’re quite a group, but they’re the closest thing to family I’ve found in this life, not that I’ll ever say it aloud. But having them at my side, at my back, helps fill the void that first team left behind when they each passed on from this life in their own time, my savior being the first to go.

When my memories pull me into the present, reminding me of the most recent event to spark this struggle within me, to send me right back to being a child with no clear path, I nearly buckle to my knees under the weight of emotions.

A tiny wisp of a girl throws herself into Willa’s arms on the porch of the newly built home. She’s absolutely tiny, but with her bright red skin, short dark hair, and intriguing black and white eyes, she’s captivated me entirely. My breath freezes within me, and I’m unable to look away.

“Terax? What is it?” Jeff asks from beside me, his concern evident in his tone. I never lose composure, this isn’t like me. Then again, I’ve never met my soul-bound mate before, how could I know this would happen? Do I even deserve such a thing?

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