The rain came down in droves but Azra had no time to stop it.

He was still running as fast as his legs could carry him through the Dead Forest, trying his hardest not to cross paths with any unwanted company. His head was in a million different realities, but they were all asking the same question.

Are you really going back?

He didn’t know what else to do. The Elder Mothers were surely going to seek revenge after what had transpired at the edge of the Dead Forest. Wendi could be dead by now and he saw no way to refute this fact in his head. He had only one way clear to him now. And it involved doing the stupidest thing he had ever done in his life.

He came to a halt and listened keenly. The rain might have been a distraction to many, but it provided him with a wider scope than what the eye can see. Right now he felt the rain falling everywhere in Yori. He felt the pang of guilt well up in his chest when he could not feel the rain falling on Wendi’s aura. They must have dealt with her quickly.

He refocused the range and searched deeper into the forest until he found what he was looking for. He ran all the way to them, not thinking about why they were all here until he could actually see them.

“You’ve made quite the mess, Azra,” Mimo spoke as she jumped down from the tree. Even in her causal manner of addressing things, it was impossible for one to miss the anxiety in her tone.

“The twins?” he directed this to Mila, who was handing him his gear and weapons.

“Airborne. I wanted a lookout in case you were followed.”

“How did you figure out my message at your mother’s house was indeed a code?”

“Azra, you have been teaching my son the art of swordplay since he was six winters old and never once in all these winters have you allowed him use of a sword without your presence.”

He chuckled to himself as he continued to strap on his armor. There was a loud squawking of a bird as the twins descended from the sky and transformed back into their human forms.

“He was not followed,” Sila spoke as she and his brother drew closer to Azra.

“What happened with the Elder Mothers?” Mila asked and Azra didn’t need to say more past the fact that he had been ordered to return to his homeland.

“I want you to return home to your child Mila. He is not safe as of now.”

“And you are? It seems you have not grasped the concept that is in front of you, Azra. You are about to willingly go to the Thirteen Witches. The Thirteen Witches!”

Azra did not need reminding of what he was going to face when he made his journey back to his motherlands. But he was glad to see that Mila was not confused about the magnitude of danger that was in front of him.

“I must do this alone.”

He was striding to his steed when the hand pulled him back towards the group. This was the second time in his life he had seen Mila, so overcome with anger, that she was on the verge of shedding tears.

“You are behaving like a child, Azra! You know there is no hope of you defeating the Thirteen Witches. Why do you refuse help when you know you need it?

Azra did not have an answer for that. All he knew was that he needed to move forward with this alone. Was it because he had endured enough battles to last him a lifetime? Or was it the prospect that he was surely leading three more lives to a pointless death? Either way he was not going to be convinced otherwise about his decision.

“He will not budge from his position, Mila. He knows this is the only way he will not cause our deaths,” Mimo spoke and drew level with him and handed him the very same blue clock he had given her when they first met. Azra was surprised to see she was wearing pants for once in her life.

“You have a greater destiny than the one you led here in Yori, Sky Mover. I know I cannot see where the winds of fate will take you. But I can give you my blessings in your future endeavors.”

Azra accepted the clock and was startled when Mimo suddenly embraced him. She was always a strange one, Mimo was.

“And so shall we,” Sila spoke as she and her twin came and laid hands on the cloak. It glowed an ominous blue color before returning back to the fabric’s original shade. “It will not do much against the magic of the witches, but it will make sure you at least stand before them long enough to do some damage.”

“Thank you Sila. And you as well, Siza.”

Siza nodded and extended his arm to him. This was the first meaningful contact the boy had with anyone aside from his sister and his beloved.

“Safe travels, Sky Mover.”

His voice was smoother and clear than the rivers in all of Yori. Azra was happy to have heard it before he went to this darkness he was headed to. The three got on their horses and made off into the forest enclosure, leaving the two friends staring at one another.

“I am not leaving, Azra. And you will never make me go anywhere you are not.”

Azra was quiet for some time as he busied himself in making sure his horse was ready for the voyage. He did not permit himself the thought that was rattling in his head all the time he was saying his farewells to his fellow knights. But now that he stared directly into Mila’s eyes. The thought was at the forefront of his brain.

“You are right. I can never make you do anything you do not want, nor will I ever do that,” he paused as his hand found its way to her face to brush the wet strands of hair aside, so that he could have a glimpse of those beautiful eyes of hers once more, “so please, Mila. Please let me have the comfort of knowing Edga still has the love of his mother in this world.”

* * *

Azra was accustomed to being cold, but these winds he faced today made him shiver despite the cloak he had around him.

Mimo might have just saved his life when she handed it back to him. But she probably knew he needed it more. The road to the Thirteen Witches was long and harrowing. It was mostly what killed men who came searching for the witches. If by some miraculous powers they made it to the place, then there was the demons and spirits to deal with long before one got to glimpse the witches themselves.

Azra gripped his cloak tighter as he tried to move along in the biting cold wind. He very much wished he hadn’t sent his steed away, but he was very against the idea of her being killed. So it was better to release her. She would travel back to Mila. Maybe Edga would have her after he came of age.

Speaking of Mila, it had been the hardest thing for her to let him leave her. Her husband had done the same when she had asked him to come and fight alongside him. That was the love of his life she lost. Now, the only man whom she had loved closest to that degree was also leaving her.

Azra was glad she had realized that she could not make an orphan of the child when he brought it up the last time they saw each other. But in return she had embraced him. Embraced him in a way only her husband had ever been embraced by her before he left her last. The white haired Knight wondered if he too was going to meet the same fate.

His thoughts were voided with the sight of the shadows in the distance. Azra was unsure of his location, but after trying, and failing at creating moisture in the air, he knew that he was definitely in his birthplace.

Not much had changed in the scenery. Bones littered the walk up to the entrance of the cavernous castle. It looked desolate. It looked evil. But the most important, and probably the most terrifying thing, is that it looked familiar.

He stood still for a while when he felt the rumble in the sky. It was slightly disturbing to know that he was not the cause of it. But he did not need to look far for the source. They were already before him, all thirteen of them.

“The curse of men.”

The words sent chills down Azra’s spine. Last time he was here, the thunderstorm raging outside was a comfort to him. Now it just reminded him how even his own power was nothing compared to the powers of the Thirteen Witches.

“I was sent to you by the very men you seek to obliterate.”

There was a low hiss from all thirteen of them. They were shrouded within the darkness such that he could not see their faces. He was glad for that. He did not need reminding of what he was spawned from.

“Pray tell, what the filth named humanity wishes to say to us.”

“They grow more aware of your presence by the day. They believe that I am the only one who can stop you.”

There was a high pitched laugh that was softer than the musical notes played in Yori when Knights return from a bountiful battle. If Azra did not know any better, he would have said none of them were evil at all.

“And what do you believe?”

Azra wasn’t sure what he believed. He was sure that he could put up a fight. Maybe slay one or two of them. But all with all thirteen of them here… he just couldn’t see any chance of a victory. He was resigned to the fact that even the thunderstorms of the sky were against him today. This was the first time in many winters he felt truly alone.

“It doesn’t matter what I believe. I am caught in between two worlds that I cannot escape from, even with death.”

And that was a truth the witches could not ignore. Azra really was an entity that they could not predict. Even now, they could feel the potency of his power slumbering so deep within him. They wanted it free, but it could cost them their lives. After years of being chained by humanity, they saw this as a risk worth taking for that dream to become a reality.

Bolin had kept their child from them for too long.

* * *

The rain was dropping harder than ever before seen in Yori. Mila was gathering her last items of belongings before she set off with her son and mother. She did not believe in shedding tears. She was not made that way. But the last time she was with Azra… it felt so familiar as that she was with her beloved.

She had loved him faithfully. Never once straying form that path. But today, in that moment she embraced Azra… she realized that her heart had found comfort after her beloved’s death. And now it would never survive this loss.

But there was still her son to think about. She was to be a mother to him and not ask questions about it. She had already experienced true love twice in one lifetime. That was above what most women in Yori experienced.

“Mother… we are leaving!” she shouted this before she opened the door to cabin. The night’s sky was opaque. Nothing but the falling rain made any kind of noise. The rain was different than what she was fond of. This one had no sense of the man she was used to for all those winters she had spent with him.

She was strapping the last of her luggage to her steed when she felt the change. The rain… it was more than just moisture. It felt, for a lack of a better word, alive.

She whirled around to see him standing there, his white hair dripping in the heavy downpour.

She had refused to dream. Refused to even conjure an image in her head that he could return to her. But he had promised that he would. Promised that he would move through the world of evil and make it to the other side just so he could see her again.

She would have been the happiest woman in the world, had the bolt of lightning not flashed to reveal thirteen women standing behind him in the thunderstorm.

End.

A/N: Thank you all for reading Thunderstorms✌. Let me know what you think about the entire series in the comment section and always keep smilling. Stay safe🙌