Wife

When he looked up, the first ice-cold drops of sleet burst into Roman's face, but he barely noticed . His mind whirled like a swarm of angry bees, ready to stab relentlessly. And they did. Raen! His just born son, should he think differently? One who stood against fate? One who broke tradition? The enormity of these words sent a shiver down the scalp and back of Roman, and involuntarily he ducked against the rain as if the drops were blows. Nobody could face fate and challenge it without being punished by it! The oracle must have been wrong. It should! Little did it know that Raen had been born less than a Ka-hour ago today.

Or is it? Oracles know more than ordinary people. They speak to the gods, are in possession of truthfulness. Every fiber in Roman resisted what his fingers were holding. He looked at the prophecy. Although the paper was already wet, the ink remained legible. An oracle was always right. This realization shocked him more than the fear of war. It would turn out just as Soghul had predicted, and he could only hope that Raen wouldn't drag them all along with him. His son would rebel against the power of fate. Oh, what a wicked act, what a terribly bad secret! Roman raised his hand to his mouth and breathed against it. He had to keep a clear head, nobody was allowed to tell him anything. Meanwhile his clothes were completely soaked and covered with snowflakes. Over the parapet of the fortress, he looked at the distant hills on the edge of the clan area, which through the curtain of snow and rain could only be made out as gray silhouettes. Why did fate have to place such a heavy burden on him of all people? Wasn't the war and the bitter defeat, the misery and the painful loss of homeland enough of the things a man could endure? Roman was overcome with pain, tears welling mixed with the melted snowflakes on his face. And for all his agony, he forgot that self-pity was a great sin. He became more and more entangled in this bittersweet feeling that was both comforting and biting. The limit of the greatest of all sins a Hy could commit was getting dangerously close. And without knowing why, Roman finally took this last step.

"Why? Why me? Why my son? ”He whispered tonelessly into the cold air and sealed his iniquity: he quarreled with his fate!

That was already looking down at him coldly and relentlessly. Zaizura, the goddess of fate, never forgot and never forgave, and she would punish this insolent, tiny human being, who had dared to boo her for favor, so that it would again remember the laws of immutability of the universe!

Roman released himself from his indifferent deafness. He put Soghul's letter in the neckline of his jacket and went down the wall. He noticed that his whole body was shaking. He urgently needed to warm up. So Roman went back to the heated birthing room. Alea did not ask where he had been, for she was used to Roman as a warrior being called away unexpectedly. And besides, these things were none of their business. With his clothes wet, Roman stopped by the brazier.

"What should I pack for you?" He asked in a husky voice and held out his palms to the rising warmth.

"Oh, just the little bags of my chest and warm clothing, which is important to me."

"Well, then rest a little now. We'll be leaving soon. ”Roman looked at the window, outside it was snowing in increasingly thick flakes. He thought with uneasy feelings about their upcoming hike and silently prayed that Hyaun would protect his little family. Only the reawakened voice of the newly elected prince in his inner ear gave him a little hope. The voice was a comforting hum that grew noticeably. And even if the prince's silence had lasted just an hour, it seemed to Roman as if the Setna had left her forever. He exhaled through his nose with relief, the responsibility no longer on her shoulders. The Setna would decide. But did that change anything? He did not know and did not dare to evoke any more such blasphemous thoughts. What he'd just done was bad enough. His fingers unconsciously slid over his golden browband.

"Are you okay?" Alea wanted to know, worried.

"Everything is fine," lied Roman and started to leave the room. But his wife held him back.

“Roman, wait. I love you, you should know that and I am grateful for every single day that was by my side. And no matter what happens tomorrow, I won't be afraid of it. ”She smiled at him. Roman nodded gratefully and left.

Around noon the snowstorm assumed a threatening density, but that did not prevent the entire Shari clan from setting off with sacks and bags, children and old people alike. An endless chain of people and animals, flanked by the warriors on horseback, meandered along the barely recognizable paths through the wooded snow-covered hills - further and further away from the chorten, in which the lights were no longer burning and the rooms were slowly cooling down. Nobody looked back, everyone bit back pain and cold and trudged forward. Soon the impenetrable veil of flakes had swallowed the dark ribbon of those fleeing in the white landscape. The abandoned Chorten lay seemingly peaceful, but danger lurked behind the mountains to the south.