The Day It Is Stolen
Azura, the Queen of Sentinels, jolts straight up in bed, sleep abandoned, dream forgotten.
A lightning bolt illuminates the night sky outside. White light seeps through the veins of darkness, igniting life in the dead of night. Boom! Thunder tears through the white light, nipping its fairy wings before they spread.
Azura’s chest heaves as she hauls broken chunks of air into her lungs. Her heart is on fire, like a piece of it has been ripped apart; grabbed, jerked, and yanked out. Unimaginable pain engulfs her. She has never felt this way. Never.
Am I having a stroke? No, can’t be. I am too young to have a stroke.
She gasps. She remembers her mother’s dying words. And she knows. She knows what the ripping means: for the first time in six thousand years, it has been plucked, stolen, gone.
How is it possible?
She clutches her chest and cries through gritted teeth. “Guards!”
Her voice fails against the ravaging duel between thunder and lightning. She draws a deep breath.
“GUARDS!”
Two men, dark of color and heavy of build, charge into the hut. They wear skirts made of pine needles. The loosely bunched pines waft in the breeze and crackle as the men dash into the room. Both carry tridents, three-pronged spears. Their sinewy, hairless chests shine brilliantly in the white light that dapples through the meshed window in the room. Apart from the pine skirts, they wear nothing. No armor, no ornaments.
“My queen?” says one of the guards.
“Wake…” Azura pauses and bites her lower lip to wade through the burning in her heart. “…wake Commander Bani. Gather troops.”
The guard glances at his comrade, who looks at him, equally confused. He considers asking ‘Why?’. But one never questioned the queen. Instead, he asks, “Now, my queen?”
Azura glares at him. Her eyes ablaze, her countenance fierce.
“YES! NOW!”
“Umm…” The guard looks everywhere except directly at Azura. “…what should I tell the commander?”
“Tell her it has been stolen.” Azura takes a deep breath. “An apple from the Garden of Eden has been stolen.”