Loyalty to One's Race
One of the most difficult choices a sentient being ever has to face is loyalty to one's parents or to one's race. Many think the choice is obvious, the family of course and often that is the choice to choose; however, this all depends on the cultural up brining. Certain cultures demand that the society as a whole is more important the immediate family. Yautja society is one of those. The honor of the clan is more important than one's own life so the life of a family member is no different.
It had been a few days since Nracha'dte's mother had been killed, his father didn't say how but something felt off. He could feel the other yautja watching him the young hunter in-training knew they were whispering about him. It made him wonder way but he was more concerned about how his mother had died, it must have been really bad if his father didn't want him to know. It was almost odd as the execution his father didn't want him to see, even though they were supposed to go to it but he'd snuck them out to go hunting just in time.
Could it have been his mother? No she was out on a hunting trip. It couldn't have been her. At least that's what he kept telling himself.
Nracha'dte shook his head to rid himself of the pestering thoughts. Today the youngbloods had the day off their teacher needed a break and he had to speak with the leader of their progress so far. Since their teacher was well respected by the clans new leader the Elder was given his leave for the day. The young hunter in-training was excited to spend a day with his father. Nracha'dte looked up to his father he was a strong and proud yautja. He always wanted to be like him and maybe one day after he was blooded they could hunt together. This was Nracha'dte's biggest dream that was what he had looked forward to doing from the day he joined the academy.
Knowing his way to his father's home by heart it didn't take long for him to reach the dwelling. Nracha'dte knocked on the door but there was no answer. Knowing his father wouldn't mind if his own son let himself into the home he opened the door.
After a quick look around Nracha'dte found his father was indeed not home he decided to go look at his father's trophies. He wanted to see all the creatures he'd fought and maybe ask for a story about he'd defeated one of them. The more he thought about it the more excited he got so rushed over to the door of his father's trophy room. Opening the door he went inside and looked around at all the trophies he collected a big proud smile on his face. Then it vanished and was replaced by a shocked horrified expression.
One the center table was a pile of phyode amedha skulls human skulls. This was not an uncommon site in the trophy rooms of yautja in fact it was very common. What surprised Nracha'dte was the size of several of them. They were small, very small, there was no way they were adult oomans. They were the skulls of children some may have been infants.
Recently Nracha'dte had learned that this was a very grave crime punishable by execution. His father, his own father was a bad blood. A criminal the scum of yautja society that weren't even considered members of the race anymore.
His face expressionless he left the trophy room and shut the door behind him. His heart broken the pride in his own father disintegrated Nracha'dte went over the wall in front of the trophy room and sat down back slumped up against it. Suddenly the sound of rushed heavy footsteps was heard downstairs. Knowing who it was Nracha'dte didn't look up as his father rushed into the room seeming to be frantic. He didn't want to look at his face. He didn't want to look at HIM.
"Who…Dte son you're here! Perfect! We need to leave right away! I'll explain once we leave the planet but hurry and help me gather our things. Go and gather my weapons. Quickly now we have not time to waste! The whole clan has gone nuts!"
His father's words felt like poison being poured into his ear drums and burn the inside of his ears. Nracha'dte gritted his fangs together while his lower mandibles flared slightly showing his anger. He looked up at his father as he went inside his trophy room to gather his ill-gotten trophies. All the pride he had in his father was gone, dead and gone. Now it was replaced by anger, hatred and burning disappointment. His heart was broken shattered into a million pieces never to be put back together. Now Nracha'dte knew his mother was the one executed and now the guards were after his father.
Nracha'dte mind was clouded, should he side with his father his own family or should he go against him and help restore the honor of his clan as well as his blood line. The young hunter barely past the age of ten, in yautja years, made up his mind and pulled himself to his feet. "Yes father." He said dully like a lifeless drone.
"Good boy," His father said as he continued to gather his trophies. A while later Nracha'dte's father heard his son return, thinking nothing of it he continued to speak with his son in effort to reassure him, "Once we leave this clan we'll start anew somewhere else. I'll teach you myself these so called hunters are morons they know nothing. Maybe we'll even start our own of band of nomads just you…"
Nracha'dte didn't listen any further than that his father's words meant nothing to him anymore. He was no longer his father he was a criminal that needed to be stopped. To be killed, but that wasn't for him to do. Nracha'dte walked towards his father, his father's own dagger in hand. With an angry snarl Nracha'dte leapt onto his father's back with a strong leap. While his father was confused by the angry snarl and his sudden leap onto him Nracha'dte used his dagger to deeply slice his own father's eyes. He cut so deeply into his father's red and black eyes that Nracha'dte was sure he'd cut them in half.
While his father was failing and screaming in immense pain Nracha'dte hopped off his father and tackled him on the back of the knees toppling his confused father into his trophy room. Not missing a beat the young hunter in-training quickly shut the trophy room from the outside leaving his now blind father inside.
Knowing the guards were on their way Nracha'dte sat outside the door to the trophy room with his father's dagger in hand now drenched in the blood of its owner. Legs against his chest Nracha'dte buried his face in his arms.
While he sat outside his father banged on the door of his own trophy room demanding his son let him out. He screamed at his own son calling him a traitor demanding to know why he did what he did. He demanded to know why his son had turned his back on him. Screaming at his son he yelled hateful things. Eventually his rage subsided to pitiful begging for his son less than half his age to spare him that he didn't mean to say what he said. That he loved him that he was at his mercy now that he couldn't hurt him even if he tried. The once proud hunter was not a pathetic blind criminal afraid of dying.
Soon enough as expected the guards clad in full body armor came marching in. There were four of them but surprising enough the new clan leader Nrak'ytara was there as well! The guards seemed to be surprised by the scene and simply stared at the young yautja was a blood soaked dagger.
"He's in there. I cut his eyes he can't see anymore. Shouldn't give you any trouble now…" Nracha'dte said in an emotionless tone while he looked at the door over his arms.
The guards looked at each other before heading over to capture the criminal. One opened the door letting Nracha'dte's blind and confused father fall out of the room. He landed flat on his face before pulling himself up to his knees and looked around confusedly eyes still bleeding glowing light green blood.
Nracha'dte shoved his face back into his arms when his father began to weakly call out for him possibly believing he had let him out. He listened as his cries got more and more frantic as his father was dragged away by the guards. His body began to shake stressfully as Nracha'dte held his tears in. His heart felt like it was being torn apart by kainde amedha. Having nothing to take his anger out on Nracha'dte grinded his fangs together mandibles flared out, breathing heavy and rough.
"You did the right thing young one."
Startled Nracha'dte looked up and saw his leader standing next him. Still feeling conflicted Nracha'dte didn't respond and turned his head away from his leader.
Understanding his response Nrak'ytara knelt down next to the young yautja placing his hand comfortingly on his shoulder. "Your father is a criminal. He would have continued to dishonor our clan had you no done what you did. Doing this your reclaimed you blood line's honor. Your descendants will honor you for what you did. You should be proud of yourself, maybe not know but later. You'll make a great hunter in the future if you follow the code of honor unlike you father." With that said Nrak'ytara stood up and headed out of the room. "I'll leave you be now." The leader said before he left.
The next day Nracha'dte attended his own father's execution feeling no remorse for having caused his capture. He quickly found a new role model in Nrak'ytara and switched all of his former feelings for his father to him finding him to be a truly honorable hunter. He eventually got over his distress and continued his training aiming to hunt with his leader someday.
'I'll never be like my father. Never! I'll be better than him! I'll never be like him! I'll never hunt a phyode amedha…to make up for what my father did to their kind…' Nracha'dte swore to himself. No he'd never hurt an ooman as long as he could avoid it. That was his promise to himself so he'd never become like his father even if he did look so much like his father…he'd never be like him so long as he could help it.