(PRINCE ZALMAN ON THE VERGE)
Running from another chase again! From Battalions of Soldiers behind the bronze masks. He doesn't understand how but he happened to be the victim of the revenge-seeking monsters. They were too many of them, probably he can't defeat them for some reason, unknown to him. He wanted an escape but it turned out they wanted him as a scapegoat for his people.
Bloodthirst glows in their eyes, though he couldn't attest to the rage on their faces, he felt it because their enraged eyes were murderous and begrudging as they approach him.
They surmounted his hope of life with their vengeful approach. He gave up his vision of escape. Despite knowing that as a criminal or assassin who never accomplished his mission, should be granted life after a long chase, this race of people never seemed to let go.
Giving up the ghost was more preferable than waiting for their unending strides towards him if not that suicide is a sacrilege in his tribe. The thumping effect of their feet had his mind frozen in quivery.
However, he had his eyes closed in the wait for his painful demise because he knew they were never willing to annihilate him with ease.
On the wait, time was still, yet the thudding sound of their match kept increasing the rate of his heartbeat.
But to his marvel, at the time he expected them to unleash their wrathful ire on him, and his heartbeat became clumsy to its wit of fading away like candlelight being swooshed away in a stern but windy night, then came a total silence that jaded him back to life.
In the interim, he knew he was surrounded by thousands from the rear and in his front, but he felt an unusual move towards him, right behind him. Nonetheless, for some good reasons he had a belief that it was for his safety and not against him so he never bothered to fathom who made the move.
On opening his eye from the cessation of sight, he saw a long hair parted in two most natural colors which made it look odd and a kind of breathtaking - but neither way, it was hope-giving to him.
After his first glance at the hair, he felt as if the spell of time-still has been lifted, time started running faster at a higher rate than he could bear. It became intolerable that it made him lose consciousness.
All he could memorize was the hair of his savior. It was silverly parted one half and the other half, natural black - a demon kind of black. Nonetheless, the hair bears a poisonous stinging end that could depose life from the victim, which perfected its weird look.
Despite not being able to perfect his great savior's face before dazing off, but he won't forget her green diamond eye which attested to her innocence, as a pure light in the aura of darkness surrounding her mystical her.
Affirmatively his rescuer was a Shero - he couldn't recall her face but it was familiar. He could attest to the strength of her feminine aura and with the best of his wit, she was facially sumptuous.
However, the fate of the battle was unknown to him, whether victorious or vanquished. But one thing was sure with him, he was alive...and that alone could assure him she overcame the enemies and saved him. He was so convinced of that because his head was still on his body, even in his lost version of faint. That was all he knew and all he could take with his memory to the abyssal world of his subconsciousness.
On waking from his lost consciousness at the battlefield which seemed like an irretraceable path to death, he saw a woman-like figure of a great-looking warrior on a white war fit, though his gaze was hazy. But perhaps, with the odd silver-black hair with appeals to her sheroic attire.
Her stature of womanliness was more appalling as though she was ribless. Her onsight defines she was thoroughly pure in heart.
'If not she was a warrior, I guess her nature of tempting would have brought on her the scandalous fate of being an early mother with an unknown father to her child. Albeit, her stars of fortune were more assuming careful on her to have gifted her with such mighty strands of hair possessing lots of strength. Who knows, that might just be the least of the formidable skills I guess she has, reading from her nature.' He thought.
He tried raising a limb after he assumed clear vision and consciousness. A surge of pain chipped on his ribcage near the heart and a gallowing sob of pain emerged in his mouth.
'Alas my lord, you are not allowed to move yet.' The voice came and passed him like a lightning thundering the clouds. The echo released him from the burden of the heart, more appealing like ice meant to cool his temperature from lots of problems that have distressed him.
It came out of the bearer's mouth like a compelling pill to sleep, until the white goddess turned around and he beheld her green eyes like a diamond. All the healings that cane with her voice eloped his being without a single say of goodbye, then the pains came back, directly at his heart. He can hardly remember being hit or stroked at heart, yet the more he drown in her river-like green eyes, the more he felt the pain.
He couldn't breathe at that, everything became unbearable for him as tears flooded out her emerald green eyes. He followed her gaze down to her belly and behold, it was a sword. It went through her belly and she fell onto him and disappeared before he could count three.
From the cry and shout of pain, he woke from his mare at the presence of two Tzofiya's (personal guards) and his mother who held unto him from the shout.
The questioning looks on the Tzofiyas faces made him feel so embarrassed that he motioned them to leave his privacy. His mother looking at him desolated, he hugged her as she enveloped him with a sheltering hug that could drive away any glimpse of ire.
"It's another nightmare, I guess son?" She asked almost in a whisper, though it was already morning.
"Yes mum, and with the gree..."
"... green-eyed one, your compeer from yesterday's encounter, I suppose." She made way for the words out of his mouth, before he could say them. He gave her a head nod in affirmation.
"I think son, she is your soulmate..." She gave him a taunting look, "...and she needs you sooner" She expatiated.
"Mother, I don't know her, I don't know where to find her, but whosoever she is, I don't-want-to-lose-her ." He exasperated subtly. She embraced him emotionally, knowing that her son Zalman is an introvert, he hardly makes a wish, but now he finally made one, she will try in her possible might to assist him to get his new goal.
*******
Zalman in the entirety of his past years has only known few people in his life because of his impediments for being a Quabal-moarn Prince. He was being constrained from knowing too many people. He hardly appears in the cabinet meeting of their chieftains with the King as only a few Chiefs knew him.
He had only loved few people in his existence, His parents and his younger sister, Princess Yeonsooh (Sharai Ariella), but now he got the chance to be loved by an external person outside his circles of love. He wouldn't dare miss it, no matter what it will cost him.
********
(Back to the room)
"You won't lose her, son..." she said hypnotizing him but courageously "...anyways, we came in honor of your birthday before your usual scenario fell at pace". She summed up.