Shipped
Zarda stirred, jolted awake by the metallic scent of iron. His head throbbed, and his entire body felt sore. He was jerking involuntarily with every jolt he encountered. Trapped in a hot, slick space, his heart raced wildly. Anxiety coursed through him as he gasped for breath. Catching sight of tiny beams of light filtering in, he pressed his nostrils against them, desperately trying to draw in air. A wave of claustrophobia surged over him, bringing on a sense of panic. Then he heard the voice of the creator cutting through the chaos.
"Take a deep breath and relax. Just breathe slowly. Steady your breathing, Zarda; panicking will only make things more difficult," said Elohim.
He scanned his surroundings, observing only sturdy walls that seemed to be closing in on him.
"Master, where am I? Did my question about why you keep killing my family anger you?" he inquired.
Elohim chuckled softly. "No. Remember, I warned you that your circumstances would change in ways you never expected. This is your destiny, Zarda. You are truly blessed, and you will continue to be as long as you maintain that perspective. Do not lose faith in me. I will guide you through fiery trials to strengthen you. I promised you a life filled with blessings and immense joy. However, how you perceive your life will shape your experience of it. Close your eyes and relax; you will soon be free from your confines. They are almost at their destination," Elohim said.
Zarda was confused. "Who? What? Where?" he responded.
The creator gently responded, "The pale-skinned humans, whom they call soldiers, have captured you. The container you find yourself in is the cage I mentioned. As for your destination? You're being transported to a ship that will set sail overseas, ultimately reaching North America—a place far removed from your homeland. Get ready for an unforgettable experience, Zarda. Embrace this opportunity and feel grateful. You alone have been granted this blessing. I will speak with you again soon. Now, rest easy; it will all be over before you realize it."
Zarda placed his trust in his master. He began to inhale deeply and slowly, encouraging himself to relax. Gradually, it was working; he felt his tension ease, and he managed to close his eyes. He let go of the overwhelming feeling of suffocation.
Instead, he focused on Elohim's words: "Relax, and you'll be free soon." Although still a little lightheaded, he attempted to drift back into sleep. He envisioned his mother, Saharrah, and thought of the makana kingdom. Memories of his brother Meeku came to mind, especially how he had discovered a new love, and then he thought of his own beloved bride, Natia. A wave of sadness washed over him at the thought of her giving birth alone to their newborn cub. Would he ever meet his son or daughter? He remembered that he had left his best friend, Purk, in search of his own son. Had Purk found him? Would he ever locate Thyron? The more he reminisced, the more painful memories surfaced—his father's death, the loss of Slash, the turmoil between King Ayo's and King Morbius's tribes, and even the heartbreaking deaths of Dimvi and Mara at the hands of the hyenas. Shaking his head, he tried to refocus on Natia and the warmth of her presence. Zarda dreamt of their tender kisses and the deep love they shared. Tears streamed down his face, more abundant than he had ever cried before. How can these be blessings? How can one find goodness in such loss? he pondered. In time, he hoped to see things from the Creator's perspective and make sense of it all. At last, weary from his thoughts, he slipped into sleep.
Elohim had been correct. The soldiers had arrived at a ferry and parked their vehicle in the assigned spot, silencing its loud, rumbling engine. Zarda had grown accustomed to its high-pitched growls and fiery sputters it emitted. He opened his eyes, realizing that his body was motionless. Shadows moved past the sacred wall, and he could hear them rummaging around outside the door. Creak, click. The door opened wide, accompanied by a resounding clatter. A bright light flooded in, prompting Zarda to squint and lift his hands to block the glare. At the entrance of the door, two pale figures stared at him. One soldier wore a red beret perched atop his head, his skin light and fleshy, marked by wrinkles and age. The thin hair visible to Zarda was a light gray. He couldn't help but notice how hairless the two men were—no facial hair except for what remained on their heads. The pale man's eyes were strikingly bright blue, and his expression was serious. His uniform was a dirty olive green, marred with bloodstains and remnants of flesh, likely from the explosion earlier. A black-handled knife was strapped to his waist. When he bent down to pat Zarda on the foot, fear surged through him, and he instinctively pulled away with a snarl. It had been a long time since he felt the lion's roar in his chest, that sense of power coursing through him—it felt good and strong. Panic set in as he thought about his lost power. Where was his wand? He fumbled beneath himself, but it was nowhere to be found. He believed he had lost his magic, unaware that when he fell, the pale figures had seized it along with him and tucked it away in the cab of their vehicle. It is highly probable that they would submit it to the leader for a thorough examination
"Listen, we're not here to cause you any harm. If you can cooperate, you can walk away from this and come with us. But if you decide to attack, my friend will take you down before you have a chance to run." the soldier said.
Zarda grasped the man's words but hesitated to respond. He remembered Elohim's belief that one's perspective on life could influence whether it felt enjoyable or painful, and that making the right decisions could lead to blessings. Gradually, Zarda crawled out and positioned himself in front of the two men, looming over them. He could feel their fear but chose to ignore it, despite the temptation to acknowledge it. He complied with any request they made. The older soldier shot a glance at the younger one, whose complexion had shifted from a warm bronze to a pale hue. His dark brown hair only highlighted the stark contrast of his skin. The younger soldier's face was smooth and unblemished, and his hazel eyes resembled Zarda's. Although his uniform carried the same bloodstains, it was a dark evergreen rather than olive. Instead of a knife, he wore a gun holster at his side, and he lacked the foolish beret that Zarda found amusing other older soldiers. The old soldier, striving to regain control over his emotions, looked intently into Zarda's eyes.
"What is your name, creature?" the soldier inquired.
Zarda replied slowly, "I am called by many, King Zarda, but you can just call me Zarda."
He glanced between the soldiers, then the older man pressed his lips together and gave a slight nod.
"Well, Zarda. I'm Soldier Gibbs, and this is Private Anderson. We'll be your escorts for the next hour or so," he replied.
He felt puzzled by the soldier's words and disoriented by the passage of time. "An hour or so," Zarda thought to himself.
"Sorry to bother you with so many questions, but where are you taking me, and what is it called?" Zarda asked.
The younger soldier finally spoke up. "North America," he answered.
Zarda furrowed his brow, fully aware of the answer but seeking further details. Soldier Gibbs picked up on his expression and quickly Intervened
"What Private Anderson is trying to convey is that we are headed to a facility called Nexus, which is situated in Montana, North America," Gibbs replied.
Zarda let the name "Montana" linger as he spoke it. It felt strange to say. It seemed that in the coming month, Zarda would be discovering many new things. Soldier Gibbs gestured for Zarda to follow him toward the main dock.
"Come with me," Gibbs said. "We're going to the upper deck of the ferry. The view is much better up there."
Zarda appeared confused by the term "ferry." Sensing his thoughts, Gibbs started to explain and chuckled softly to himself, realizing this wouldn't be the last instance where he'd have to teach the newcomer.
"It seems you have plenty to learn from, and I have plenty to give. A ferry is a watercraft that carries passengers. Like you and me, and sometimes vehicles and cargo, across a body of water." Responded said Gibbs.
Zarda grasped things a little better now that he could associate words with objects.
"Is the metal beast we arrived on what you refer to as cargo?" Zarda inquired.
Gibbs and Anderson chuckled at his naive question. "No, son. That's called a vehicle. It was the finest truck in the army, but after the hell we just went through, it's a different story. I've never seen such destruction in all my years of service. I should've been promoted to major general ages ago, given my experience. But I chose to stay on the front lines. I've never felt at ease giving orders and making decisions that affect others. Honestly, I just love the excitement of battle," Gibbs said, grinning widely. The three of them understood that this was going to be a long journey across the deep waters.