Whitney Writes…

The sound of everyone arguing in the throne room was deafening to Mazar’s ears. It made him miss the warm sands of Elsewyr. The quiet of the nomadic lifestyle he had lived with his first wife and little daughter. He missed the warmth of their yurt, nestled in the sand dunes, with a brazier burning brightly. The scent of Ahara’s cooking roasting over their fire, the way Alassi would always declare she hated it but would clean every bite out of her bowl. It all still felt so real to Mazar, he could nearly smell it.

When he opened his eyes, his second wife, Shura, was looking at him expectantly. “This one is sorry,” Mazar said softly, rubbing at his temples, “he was distracted and did not hear what his beloved said.”

Shura’s face softened. “I said I want to gather the children and keep them in our rooms,” she repeated, keeping any hint of annoyance with Mazar from her tone. “I do not want them hanging around the other children and hearing the wild tales that are bound to be sweeping through the palace.” She cast a glance over her shoulder towards Zaeri, who was still getting those around her riled up about her conspiracy theories.

Mazar nodded. “Yes, of course,” he said, “this one will gather the ones downstairs, you get the ones on our floor upstairs.” Shura nodded gratefully and the pair split up, heading in opposite directions. At the back, he found his eldest daughter, Alassi. “Gather up your cubs,” he said to her in a hushed voice, “it is getting volatile in here.”

“What has happened, Father?” Alassi asked, craning to see around her father into the chamber.

Mazar caught the shoulders of his daughter. “It is just an eclipse,” he said, “but others are getting worked up.” He looked back towards Zaeri. “Fetch Zurana and keep your cubs away from others.” He saw the hesitation, the brief moment of fear in usually fearless daughter’s eyes. “You can bring them to Shura and I’s rooms,” he added. “She would love to see the little ones.” Alassi smiled gratefully, kissing her father’s cheek before she hurried away.

Mazar sighed heavily, and set off to round up his other eleven children.

Inktober 2024, Prompt #10: NOMADIC🧡🖤👻🎃