Imperial Guard – 005 Ethos of Solbrecht
Chapter 11 Farewells and Goodbyes
Jirro, Imaala and Lyreht
"If you pull something in front of my kids, I will skin you alive."
It had been two days since his first meeting with Lyreht. Two days of confirming that he was indeed alive and not doing well. Two days to let his children adjust to the fact that they had a grandfather from his side. Two days to prepare them and Imaala for having another member of the family live with them.
In the meantime, Jirro had pulled some strings, done everything in his power to arrange for treatment of Lyreht's pethra unirh on short notice. He did not even object to the projected cost of the treatment and neither did Imaala. It was, as he promised, Lyreht's job to make up for it. If not in a monetary manner, then by doing what he should have done from the start. To be a father, or in this case, a grandfather to their children.
If someone had told him beforehand that the first meeting with his father since his orphaning, would take that same man to his doorstep, to be invited inside his own home, he would've called them insane. It had taken Imaala some effort to convince him to come up with at least the level of understanding and restraint to not tear him apart at first sight. But it was as if Lyreht's sharing of his experiences during the many solar cycles since Rryske's death had loosened something. Broken down a few barriers that had been erected since the last time they saw each other.
Even when using his deep emerald glare to add additional weight to his statement, his father was unfazed by the threat his son was more than capable of carrying out with his bare hands. In fact, he gave him a sheepish smile before responding, not even averting his glazed blue green eyes.
"You even sound like her, you know that? Rryske loved to threaten."
They had talked about his mother a lot. So much in fact that Jirro grew tired of it. It was as if everything around him reminded Lyreht of the time when Rryske was still alive. An obvious sign of unresolved bereavement, of which the resulting stress only worsened his condition. Sighing at it for the umpteenth time, Jirro shook his head, toe claws scratching over the rock pieces under his feet as he turned to unlock the door of his home using his wristcom.
"Good, then you also know what I'm capable of."
The heavy wooden front door with its engraved surface unlocked with a soft chirp of the electronic lock, swinging open about halfway after he gave it a gentle push. Stepping aside to let Lyreht pass, his father hesitated, taking a breath before trudging the last few steps to the doorway, the tip of his tail dragging over the path of flat gray rocks leading up to it. The few belongings he brought with him from wherever he came from he carried with him in a large beige backpack made of a canvas-like material.
Following him inside, Jirro laid eyes through the window that formed most of the wall on that side of the house, on Imaala and the children enjoying the warm weather outside in the backyard, and in the water of the lake bordering it. Seated on one of the cushioned lounge chairs sculpted into the perfect shape to accommodate her body, Imaala, alert as always, looked over her shoulder to see who entered. She wore poetyo, in contrast to his and Lyreht's T-shirts and shorts, in the common tan variety, both the top and bottom part.
Pushing herself up on her legs, she entered the house through the open glass sliding door, meeting Lyreht in the middle of the large open space that was their living room, right next to the conversation pit. Touching beaks, she greeted him before stepping back to give him a quick study.
Even from a distance Jirro could tell that his father wasn't well. The way his ears followed his shoulders into hanging down, even after he took off his backpack. How he couldn't keep his tail from dragging over the floor as he walked. The sweat that formed big wet stains on his T-shirt and his being out of breath after small amounts of light exercise.
"We were expecting you," Imaala said in her kindest voice. Lyreht tried to smile in response, his face strained with exhaustion and raw emotion. "We want you to feel welcome."
"Hyami," he panted.
Imaala gestured at the open door to the garden, where the children who were using the lake as their playground with their floatables had also noticed something was up.
"Come. We got things to talk about."
Giving his father his consent as Lyreht looked at him in a way of asking for permission, Jirro watched him trudge after Imaala to follow her to the garden, where his children returned to the shore, collecting the bottom strips of their poetyo, which were scattered on the grass of the garden like little tan snakes.
"I'll get us some drinks," he called after them, eyeing the pitcher and four wooden cups on the garden table next to the seats.
Making his way to the kitchen, of which the wall panel facing the garden had been opened up, he fetched another pair of cups from one of the wooden cabinets. Deciding to skip the alcohol, as it had a detrimental effect on Lyreht's frail health, he opened the door of the refrigerator and retrieved a chilled bottle of spring water mixed with a fusion of fruit juices.
The literal centerpiece of the kitchen was the large, circular, charcoal burning grill, hanging from the ceiling by a series of thick chains, which was going to see some use tonight. With their long-standing feud settled, Jirro figured the least he could do to make his father feel welcome was to prepare him a meal, his style.
Exhausted as he was, Lyreht had taken one of the seats under the large white awning that ran along most of the house's rear façade. While he caught his breath, Imaala gestured for the children to come closer. Having been warned in advance about his coming, they were still a little hesitant to meet this new member of the family, though their curiosity was already on the verge of getting the upper hand.
"C'mon and meet your ay-kharii."
To Jirro's surprise it was Poya, his daughter of two, to be the first to come forward. Dripping wet and with her bottom poetyo only half applied, one end clamped in her small fist while the other fluttered between her legs, the little girl approached her grandfather until she was but one step away from his feet. Putting the glasses and bottle on the table, Jirro eased himself into a more comfortable stance as he watched the scene with curious interest. Bowing forward on his seat, his arms resting on his thighs, Lyreht smiled with lidded eyes at the little girl.
"Moiseh, you must be Poya." Nodding shyly, Poya showed all of her teeth in her widening grin. Meanwhile her older brothers joined her sides. "And you must be Zev and Biht. I'm Lyreht. Your ay-kharii."
Flattening an ear, Zev's face turned serious. Scratching at his neck, his tail rustled the gras with slow sweeps as he studied the Mantrin in front of him.
"You don't look so well."
Although it was kind of an understatement, and Jirro found it hard to disagree, he still wasn't going to let his rude behavior go unpunished. It never was his intention to make his children fear him, though a flare of the nostrils was usually enough. He never even had to raise his voice.
"Zev," he warned. "That wasn't a very nice thing to say. Apologize to your ay-kharii."
"It's all right," Lyreht laughed and waved away Zev's worries. "Can you blame the boy for speaking the truth?"
"You're the one to talk about making apologies," Imaala scoffed. "They really did a number on your old self up there, didn't they?"
Answering his mate's rhetorical question with an annoyed stare, Jirro watched her shake her head with a chuckle, before easing herself back into her seat that cradled her body with soft comfort. Returning focus to his son, who continued to look back and forth between a smiling Lyreht and his father, Jirro continued in a calm tone of voice after Zev's whispered apology.
"It's all right, Zev," Lyreht accepted his grandson's regret, upon which the boy smiled.
"Your ay-kharii is very ill," Jirro explained. "But we're gonna make him better soon."
In the meantime Poya shuffled closer and closer, until Lyreht felt obligated to spread the enormous pillars that were his legs to give her the room to stand in between them. Dropping the poetyo, which fluttered down to join the other end in the grass, the little girl raised her arms in a gesture of wanting to be picked up.
Giving both him and Imaala a questioning look, Jirro gave his permission with a nod just like his mate, in his thoughts commending his youngest child for accepting Lyreht as fast as she did. Moving his large hand under her armpits, her grandfather stretched one leg before lifting her up to put her on his massive thigh, soaking his shorts as she was still very much wet from her swim in the lake.
With a soft gurgle she grabbed hold of the left one of the strong arms holding her, nuzzling the palm of his hand as Lyreht caressed her cheek. Giggling as she grabbed hold of his fingers with her teeth, she nibbled a bit before letting go. Lyreht sniffled as a tear rolled over his cheek, which he tried to laugh off when the two boys moved closer, Biht laying a hand on his other thigh, and Zev resting his head against his upper arm.
"I think I feel better already," Lyreht croaked.
As his father looked at him with moist eyes, Jirro caught a glimpse of genuine happiness for the first time since they met. And then he felt something else. A kind of warm feeling right between his hearts that began to spread. If his family had paid close attention, they would've seen the raised corner of his beak before he turned to fill the glasses he brought with him to usher in the fresh start.
(I was so touched by this track. It's become part of the soundtrack of my mind. Sunrises and sunsets, farewells and goodbyes…) Hans Zimmer – Top Gun: Maverick – Penny Returns (Interlude): /watch?v=r2CW-uncrDE
Squeezing the squishy mud of the lake's bottom between his toes as he gazed out over its shimmering surface, Jirro watched the rising sun cast its rays over the valley as it peeked above the tall mountain ridges in the distance. A large flock of bright-colored fharii hurtled into a dive to skim the water, before cornering sharply using their two pairs of separate wings, flapping around one of the tall rock pillars that rose from the lake like a natural obelisk.
He had taken a bath even before the sun was up, the water still very cool from an unusually chilly night for the current season. A sharp contrast to the sun's warmth on his skin and the red fabric of the Imperial guard uniform, the bottom edge of his pant legs turned wet.
Looking down at the lighter palms of his hands, he noticed the reflection of his own face in the water. The hooked beak. The long upswept ears. His slate-colored skin and striking emerald eyes. He had heard the sound of approaching footsteps and as he tried to grasp what he saw, a second face joined the one already there on the right, as another leg with a color similar to his own moved into the corner of his field of vision.
Lyreht was dressed in nothing more than a fresh pair of shorts, stretching his beak into a wide yawn. Smacking his lips, he attacked his own back with his claws and groaned while flexing his muscles, popping a few joints in the process.
"You've been up early, son."
"You're not," Jirro stated the obvious, though adding what was supposed to be a smile. "Did you sleep well?"
His father smiled back, his small ears flicking in a jumpy response.
"Better than I have in many solar cycles, Jirro. I have you and your family to thank for that."
Turning on the spot to face his father, the tail pocket of his pants having soaking up enough water for it to feel cold, Jirro took a breath. Although Lyreht claimed he felt better after rejoining the family, he was going to put in a sharp reminder not to imagine things.
"All has been arranged. Imaala will take you to the hospital in five days for your treatment. I expect you to make a full recovery. You have a promise to keep after all."
Lyreht sighed, introducing his nostrils to a whiff of bitter breath as he looked him in the eyes.
"Rryske's family refused to take care of you. And so did my own parents. It's something I never understood until now. It's because I should have been the one to take care of you. All this time I've been foolish. I thought I'd lost everything. But I didn't. I had a son. I-"
"Let's not start this again," Jirro interrupted him, watching Lyreht swallow the rest of his words together with his remorse. "Please," he added when his father hesitated, then nodded in agreement. Trading gazes, they both kept silent for a moment as their attention was seized by the squawking of the fharii continuing their sky dance. "And once again, you're wrong." Watching his father's jaw slacken in confusion, Jirro stepped close enough to put a hand on his bony shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. "You have a son."
Closing the last bit of distance, forcing his father to widen his stance so his thighs formed a 180-degree angle, he hooked an arm around Lyreht's neck to pull him into a firm hug. A slight shiver went through his father's body, Lyreht's hand having trouble finding its way to pat him on the back. Not that strange considering the man his son was.
"I'm glad to have you back, son."
Jirro responded with a satisfied rumble, generated deep within his throat.
"I need to go." Patting his father's back with his other hand, he waited for the tension in Lyreht's body to ease before letting go. "Take good care of my kids, kharii."
Houn and Yukiko
Houn could not really remember the last time he had woken up with anything resembling a headache, but the previous night, which ended less than a handful of cycles ago, sure was a good reason for having one. It was mild, or at least tolerable enough to want little more than a cup of hesjwii as relief, but the first thoughts that entered his mind after opening his eyes were not about his own wellbeing, but about Yukiko's and especially Tyru's.
After a third wide yawn, he tossed aside the covers of the near square single bed in his small bedroom, flinging his long legs over the edge facing the door to perch on the side of the mattress. As the mild breeze coming through the open window parted the curtains in the middle, they allowed for a sliver of daylight to enter. Staring at the carpeted floor between his large three-toed feet, he shivered at the cool air blowing over his bare back, his overly long tail rustling the sheet before he put it to rest.
The events of last night, the fear, the horror, the confusion, kept echoing through his mind like one of those movies he went to see with Yukiko a couple of times. He did not fail to realize how lucky they both were to make it out of that unscathed. Despite sleeping for only a few cycles, he was now fully awake, perking his, for a Goureg, much larger ears for any signs of life in the rest of the house.
Snorting at a little itch of the nose, he rose on his legs after not detecting any, put on the ubiquitous T-shirt and shorts, and exited his room into the small hallway which connected the bedrooms, bathroom and living room. With the bedroom doors still closed, he decided to start by freshening up.
Noyee had removed Tyru's dirty clothes and put them in the washing machine the night before so the bathroom was tidy as always. Fully adapted to their kind, everything was extra-large and spaced far apart for comfort. Massaging his brow as she stood in front of the sink, he retrieved a sonic toothbrush from its stand. By the time he finished brushing, he heard the footsteps of someone making their way to the living room and the kitchen judging by the sound of rummaging through drawers and cabinets.
After rinsing out his mouth and putting back the toothbrush, he retrieved a spare brush from one of the cabinets and left it on the countertop for Tyru to find. Heading back to the living room he found his parents up-and-awake, with his father preparing the morning hesjwii while his mother making herself comfortable on one of the pillows near the rug.
The living room bathed in the light of what appeared to be a mid-morning sun, given one look at the chrono on the other wall. After the long night, it was no surprise they woke up late to catch up on rest.
"Uhreaht, vori Lii'saa gi."
Greeting him back, his mother gave him a weak smile as well as a worried look, leaning back in an attempt to see if their guest was awake. Looking over his shoulder to find the door of the guest bedroom still closed, Houn sighed, hesitating at first, but turning around nonetheless.
"I'll go see if he's awake."
Trudging back the way he came, his toe claws scratching the tiled floor, he held still in front of the door of Tyru's room to listen at first. When he couldn't hear anything, he initially placed the palm of his hand flat on the door's wooden surface, then ticked with the claws of his fingers in rhythmic fashion.
"Tyru?"
No vocal response, though he did hear a soft groan of some kind coming from the other side. Good. At least he hasn't done anything to hurt himself. Dismissing it and any other morbid thoughts that popped up, he pushed the handle of the door down and opened it, entering a room that was still dark due to the closed curtains, the only light of significance now coming from the open door.
"Uhreaht Tyru. I hope you're feeling a bit better." Tyru hummed in response, though it was hard to decipher if it was acknowledgement or denial. He hadn't really moved his position from which he had fallen asleep, still using the separate blanket instead of crawling under the covers. The Mantrin's legs were huddled together, his tail peeking out from under the blanket. "I'm gonna open the curtains. We should go and visit Kemala today."
Separating the two curtains, the blast of daylight was enough to make him squint. Outside, Canarii-Ynearr had started the new day, although even a quick glimpse revealed that the city was still recovering from last night's riots. There were far fewer people out than usual for such a popular tourist destination and the streets below were filled with rubble and the damage from what he and Yukiko had experienced from up close.
Walking back to the door and the side Tyru faced from his position on the bed, Houn felt that feeling of pity come back in an instant. Tyru's copper-colored eyes stared up at him as if begging for help. Huddled under the blanket he let out a soft whimper. A large wet spot on the light blue covers near his head left Houn wondering if he had been drooling or crying, or both.
"Tyru…" he began with a small sigh. "The doctors said she'd be all right. Have a little trust. She'd be happy to see you after all that happened."
The other Mantrin didn't seem convinced, yet found the strength and determination to push himself in an upward position, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. With the blanket sliding off of his shoulder, he pulled it over his thighs to screen the space between his legs as he perched on the side of the bed. He still had that hollow look in his eyes as they stared at a spot on the carpeted floor between their two pairs of feet.
"C'mon," Houn urged, reaching out with one hand, which Tyru didn't take. Instead, he had his fists balled around part of the blanket covering his bottom half.
"D'you really think…" Tyru asked, doubting every word, "she'd wanna see me after what happened?"
"You did everything you could. You're her mate. Being with Yukiko has taught me a lot about humans and if I have to name one fact that makes me feel certain about it, it's that once committed, they can be just as loving and caring as you or I or anyone else. She loves you, Tyru."
Watching Tyru's ears move up and down like a pair of signal flags a couple of times as his still waking brain processed the information, Houn waited for the acknowledgement that came in the form of a very slow nod, before he got up, taking a moment to regain his balance after tossing the blanket back on the bed.
Smiling awkwardly, he picked up the clothes after thanking him for borrowing them and putting them on slowly, sitting back down on the bed for the shorts. Getting back on his feet for the second time, he stared back at him with that hollow look in his eyes that seemed to have become permanent. Apart from the swelling around his right eye, he looked a whole lot more like his old self again, but without the kind spirit that used to characterize him.
"Okay, it's not a perfect fit, but it'll have to do," Houn said as he studied the smaller Sogowan Mantrin.
The beige shorts were of the drawstring variety, which made their size less of an issue, but the sky blue T-shirt was much too baggy, the hem draped over his thighs, almost making it look like a dress. Not that the wearer seemed even aware of it.
"Can we go see her now?" he asked in an almost child-like voice, unbefitting of his size, though not necessarily his character.
"You might want to freshen up first. If another shower makes you feel better, go right ahead. I also left you a spare toothbrush."
Giving him a stare as if his brain had suddenly been extracted from his skull, Houn couldn't resist a chuckle, surprised when the edges of Tyru's beak curved the slightest bit upward as well.
"Trust me. Kemala would appreciate it. No offense, but my eyes are watering."
Laughing sheepishly, Tyru nodded. Stepping backwards out of the room, Houn found his mother barring the exit, placing her hand on his shoulder as she tried to find out how her guest was doing.
"Is he all right?" she asked while trying to get a glimpse, a worried look on her face.
"He is, ahmo," he tried to convince her, upon which Tyru himself nodded as well. "I'll go check if Yukiko's ready to join us."
During the short flight back to Canarii-Ynearr's hospital where he, Tyru and Yukiko had spent the greater part of the night, Houn witnessed the damage done to his home city from above as the autopilot guided his parents' car through the afternoon air traffic.
Tyru hadn't felt like talking ever since they stepped into the vehicle, exchanging few words with Yukiko who occupied the other backseat, which was a bit too large for her human frame. A look in the rearview mirror revealed him staring out of the window to the streets below, through eyes that were like windows into his wounded soul. He did allow for Yukiko to hold his much larger hand into hers. Needless to say, considering their friendship, Houn didn't even have to ask her to join them to see Kemala, for she had left him a message early that morning to tell him she would be ready when he and Tyru were.
"There it is," she emphasized when the imposing tower of steel and Duraglass emerged in their field of view after another turn. "We'll see her soon."
Having made an appointment, knowing the exact location of the recovery room where Kemala was brought to after her emergency treatment, the autopilot parked the car on the sky deck that appeared like a tunnel in the building's facade, twelve floors above ground level. Next to adding extra parking space for hovercars, the sky deck's adjacent terraces offered quiet seating spaces and greenery for recovering patients and their visitors against a backdrop of the city's skyline and the ocean on one side, and the green hills on the other.
Watching from a distance as the two sets of scissor doors on the car closed in silence, Houn looked at his companions after a flash of the rear turn indicators, indicating the vehicle had locked itself. Two faces looked back at him with similar expressions of concern, with Tyru's eyes not having lost that glazed look.
Stepping aside for another vehicle, which accelerated with a whine of its anti-gravity drive before joining the light air traffic around the hospital, Yukiko retrieved her phone from her purse.
"Eighth floor, room twenty-six," she said with a look in the direction of the nearest entrance into the building.
Through it, an elderly Mantrin couple, surrounded by young members of their family emerged and headed for one of the small gardens. The male, a Sogowan by race, used a thick wooden cane to support himself as he walked, taking slow, controlled steps, encouraged by his mate and his two grandchildren.
Waiting for the family to pass, they went inside where Yukiko checked them in at a small service desk before they passed through the security gate and took the nearest elevator down to the eighth floor. Houn snorted when that familiar hospital smell once again invaded his nostrils when they arrived, bringing back the images of patient after patient being rolled into the emergency department. The chilly feel of the beige, vinyl composite flooring under his feet and cold white light in every corridor didn't help matters much, although the landscape paintings along the cream-colored walls added splashes of color to an otherwise dull and sterile decor.
One advantage of having to accommodate his species was that the corridors and door openings were wide, providing ample room for him and Tyru to walk without even having to squeeze himself against the wall when another patient of his species rolled past him in hospital bed, pushed along by a Mantrin nurse dressed in a white tunic.
As Kemala was still under close observation, they had been instructed by the clerk at the service desk to knock at the door if closed, though when they arrived at her room the door was open and a human nurse was present.
Although her voice sounded weary, Kemala's face brightened as soon as they entered, Yukiko in the front and trailed by the two Mantrins. The nurse was a young woman of around the same age as her patient, or so Houn estimated to the best of his abilities, but of a different race, with black skin and hair that looked like a collection of tiny shoulder length braids. Standing next to her patient's bed, smiling at them with a mouth full of pearly whites, she finished her checkup with a few taps on her tablet device.
"Let me give you some space," she said, making her way out of the room.
Space, in this context could be taken rather literally, Houn thought, with him and Tyru claiming most of it due to their size, wide stance and sweeping tails. Kemala was tied to the bed for now, or so it seemed, sitting upright and with an IV line attached to one arm. Despite that, she managed to smile convincingly.
"Hey guys. So happy to see you," she cheered.
Yukiko was the first to fall into the other woman's outstretched arms for a firm hug. With medical technology having advanced to the point where mild injuries could be healed in an instant, and more complex procedures were performed with pinpoint precision and incredible speed by robotics, Kemala appeared to be in good shape, considering what she had been through.
The one half of the curtains surrounding her bed parallel to the large windows were shut, reducing the sharpness of the natural light entering the room. Her usual olive skin did look a little pale. The bright streaks dyed into her loose straight black hair turned it into a kaleidoscopic mixture of washed out colors. However, she acted completely oblivious to the fact that she had been brutally abused. Then again, they had learned the night before that her unconsciousness had been caused by rough contact with the street, so there was a good chance she had been unaware of most of what happened to her that night. Fortunately, for it was unspeakable what those Mantrins did to her.
"I'm so glad to see you too," Yukiko said, making some more room after letting go. "How're you feeling?"
"Well," Kemala began with a soft groan. "I still got a pretty bad headache along with feeling nauseous all the time. The doc said I got a concussion so that's to be expected." She sighed. "I… I also have a little trouble remembering what happened. We were attacked. It was Wyr'Mo'Gwi again. Someone grabbed me. Then I fell. Don't remember much else."
As she tried to recall her ordeal, her eyes lowered to the crisp white sheet that covered her legs, until she caught Tyru standing at a distance, his head bowed down, as if he were afraid to look his own mate in the eyes.
"Tyru, it's okay. You can come closer. I could use one of your hugs." Rather fascinated with his own hands all of a sudden, he acted like he didn't hear her, although his ears jumping at the sound of his own name betrayed that he did. "Tyruuu." Kemala shrugged. "What's wrong with him? Is he in one of his moods?"
Yukiko swallowed, before responding.
"Ehm, Tyru… feels guilty, after what happened. He thinks it's his fault."
"W-Why?" Kemala stuttered, reaching for her right temple, as if racking his brains as to what made her mate arrive at such a conclusion worsened her headache. "Tyru come here. You're acting weird."
Stepping aside toward the foot end of the bed to make room for Tyru, Houn felt his hand being grabbed by Yukiko, who held it in hers while leaning into his chest. With very slow steps, Tyru shuffled toward the bed. Ignoring the chairs in the corner, despite one of them being designed for Mantrins, he sank on his middle legs beside the bed as if begging for forgiveness. Reaching for the bed's remote, Kemala fiddled with it for a bit before she had found the right button to lower the bed to its bottom position, which brought her at equal height to her much larger mate.
"What is it?" she asked in her warmest tone of voice. "And what are you wearing?" she chuckled. "Are those Houn's clothes?"
He nodded, his bottom lip quivering as he attempted to speak.
"I… I thought you would hate me after what happened."
Houn watched as Kemala shook her head at everyone else in the room in a clueless gesture. Meanwhile her mate's tears had started to flow again, rolling over his cheeks to drip on the sheets of the bed.
"Now why would you think that?"
"Because my people did this to you. Because I couldn't protect you."
Leaning toward him, Kemala reached for his face to wipe at his tears. The gentle touch of her fingers startled him at first, before he closed his eyes to savor it as if it were the last time he would ever get to feel them.
"Tyru, listen to me. You are my mate, and I would never ever leave you. Do you hear me?" He nodded without answering, his quiet crying trailing off into a loud sniffle. "Give me your hand." Doing as instructed he flopped one arm down on the bed. "Your other hand. Look…" Turning it over to reveal the ring he wore around one finger, Kemala pointed at it. "This is what binds us. We sealed a double bond, according to my people's traditions and yours. Nothing's going to break that. Do you understand?"
"Y-Yes."
"Come here. Although I'm dying for one of your hugs, I'll give you one of mine."
Their mutual desire for each other's comfort resulted in her cuddling his head in her arms, peppering him with soft kisses between the ears as his purring grew louder. In the meantime, Houn noticed that Yukiko moved from mere leaning to hugging him, resting her head on his chest while rubbing her hand over his belly. He knew what went on in her mind. He had no doubt that Yukiko would never leave his side either. Satisfied with that thought, he wrapped his arm around her, his chest vibrating under a throaty purr.
Azdar and Masai
"Erseh!"
"I'll be back soon, Azdar"
No. This is not real. It can't be real. It had been such a long time ago since he remembered his father speaking to him and his mother in such a calm and caring tone. He even had trouble remembering him as a man who wasn't an abusive alcoholic and had heart for his family instead of the bottle and a pack of cigarettes. He had to look up to see the warm smile on his face.
The house looked so neat, like they had just moved in. The rug and floor pillows, as well as what little furniture they owned for the occasional human visitor appeared like they had never been used. The door to the hallway stood open and his father, dressed in poetyo, seemed ready to leave. Except he didn't want him to. His mother was there too, also dressed in her people's traditional clothing. Touching her beak to her mate's, she added a lick on his cheek with the tip of her tongue before smiling down upon him too.
"Don't you worry, son," his father said in a calming manner.
"Your erseh will be gone for just the morning and the afternoon," Niylaa added.
"No! Please stay!"
Without any further words, his father turned his back on him, his large tail whipping the air with a powerful whoosh as he walked out.
"Don't go, erseh!" He was still so small. On his little legs he wouldn't be able to keep up with the Mantrin whose upper knees reached past the top of his head. If his mother hadn't barred the doorway, he would've at least tried. "Stop him, ahmo! Don't let erseh go!"
A pair of strong hands grabbed him around his middle. He watched the distance to the stone floor grow as his mother scooped him up and hoisted him on her thigh as she walked the few remaining steps to the front door. At least from up there he could catch a glimpse of his father as he set foot on the sidewalk. Wait… how did I become a kid again?
It was a sunny day out, and the neighborhood was filled with the colors of nature. Green lawns, trees and bushes for every house. Big blooming patches of flowers in every garden. The pleasant warmth of an early summer morning. The laughter of other children who were already out and about. Although he loved to join and play with them, his father was all that mattered in that moment.
"Erseh!"
With a final goodbye gesture, he watched helplessly from his mother's strong grip as the Mantrin he remembered as his father continued on his walk toward the end of the street. Until the very image of him began to fade, like turning into a ghost, before vanishing. He screamed. Or at least he thought he did, for no sound came out of his mouth.
"Azdar!"
Someone else called his name as the image of that summer day began to fade in the same way as his father did. The neighborhood vanished as if swallowed by a dense fog. First it blocked the sun. The children's laughter turned to dead silence. The grass, trees and flowers began to wither and die off. His mother's grip softened and when he tried to turn and face her she began to fade as well, a glimpse of a smile on her lips. And then, weightlessness. If only for a tick.
With a loud growl he shook awake, a heavy tremble moving through his body of which the muscles were still tensed. Taking heavy breaths, he stared up at the rough wooden ceiling, the cloth-covered skylights letting through a decent amount of daylight that allowed him to see a worried Masai kneeling next to his bed as he let his head roll to the side. The thin sheet stuck to his chest, drenched in cold sweat, as were the strips of cloth that wrapped the grass-stuffed mattress.
"You were having a nightmare."
Masai's voice sounded timid, the look on her face befitting someone who just witnessed a close friend having a heart attack. It took a while before he noticed the weight of her hand on his lower arm while he caught his breath. Her caring touch invoked a feeling of appreciation. He tried to smile as he pushed himself up to a seated position, sweat pearling over his back and chest after pulling away the sheet.
"It… it wasn't a nightmare at first," he panted. "I saw my… my…"
"Your erseh," Masai finished his sentence.
"Yes." Wondering how much of the dream made it into the real world in terms of yelling, he looked into Masai's dull copper-colored eyes, which still carried a lot of concern. "I was back home, at our old house with my parents. My erseh he… had to leave. He was… nice to us."
With his mind still taking its time in becoming aware of where he was, all of a sudden he realized he was staring. First at Masai's face, her eyes, her sweet smile, despite her two broken fangs. Then tracing down over the lighter patch between her firm breasts, until he averted his gaze. Neither of them were dressed, but they had even shared a bed before and neither of them had considered that a problem. Then why did he have such trouble looking at her nude body all of a sudden?
"Didn't your ahmo mention that she had those dreams too when she came here?"
Masai was right. It was one of the first things Niylaa mentioned about this place. This peaceful retreat in the woods, far away from the troubles of the past. Staring across the featureless guest room, apart from a small, plain rug between his and Masai's bed, his ears picked up the sounds of a community in the process of starting the day coming from outside. As was customary, the working cycles were in the morning and although they had not been obliged to partake in any activities, they had promised on the previous day to join in, which was the polite thing to do.
"She did. I guess she was right. It's this place." Taking a deep breath, smells of wood, traces of resin and a hint of fresh soil and sweet flowers tickled his senses. For some reason he couldn't escape the feeling that he was still dreaming. "It's nice here."
"Then let's go see her," Masai suggested.
Crawling backwards, she worked her way over to the floor pillows to retrieve the cloth strips of her poetyo that were piled on top of one like his were, and began applying them after getting back on her feet. Following her example, he flung his long legs over the edge, the metal of his prosthetic foot hitting the polished wooden floor with a much heavier sound than his real one. Taking the lead after getting dressed, he shoved aside the thick plain curtain meant to preserve their sense of privacy and stepped into the short hallway behind it.
The first thing he noticed was that the curtains of all the other rooms were open, meaning the whole household was out and about. They had been offered a room in Niylaa's communal house and as he passed his mother's room he found it empty. Not surprising, considering he and Masai got up late. Continuing to the shared living space, he instead almost bumped into one of the children, a Sogowan boy of around eight cycles, or so he guessed. Studying his metal foot for a few ticks before looking up, the child smiled, his tail whipping in excitement.
"Hey, you're Azdar, right?"
"Yeah, I am. Do you know where my ah-"
"Your ahmo's outside," the boy answered his unfinished question. "You're up late. We're sharing the morning meal under the kuyalii tree." Flattened an ear, he frowned, scratching at his chest under the top part of his poetyo, at what Azdar guessed was a similar expression on his own face. "C'mon, I'll show you."
Squinting against the light of day, Masai followed her friend and the child out of the house, crossing the large open space within the circle of communal residences, heading into the direction of the nearby river. In doing so, they greeted several villagers who had started their work to sustain the community, and families enjoying the first meal of the day in the shade of the trees scattered across the terrain.
There wasn't a single sign betraying that Solbrecht was a world in conflict and according to Niylaa, these people had no desire to join the fight. Not hard to understand, given the fact that all he had seen so far was a peace-loving tribe whose members desired little more than to tend gardens filled with fruit, vegetables and flowers, prepare food and eat together and spend as much quality time with loved ones as possible.
The tree in question shaded the bank of the murmuring river, which was the tribe's supply of clean water, used for washing and bathing. Gathered around its tall, split trunk, Masai counted three circles of families, seated around collections of gourds and plates, filled with different foods. Among them was Azdar's mother, who noticed their coming as she looked over her shoulder, gesturing for them to hurry up and join them.
"You're just in time. Come, sit."
With the boy joining his siblings in the circle on the other side, Masai kneeled into the fine dew-covered blades of grass covering the riverbank, in the gap created by the family members that crawled backwards to widen the circle. Azdar squeezed himself in between her and his mother, letting out a mild sigh before greeting everyone. The response was as cheerful as the one after their introductions the day before. Although all three of them, Niylaa included, were unrelated to the tribe, they felt more like family than everyone Masai had ever met since the loss of her parents.
Watching in quiet fascination as one of the youngest members of the group, a girl of around five cycles at most, shuffled forward on her middle legs and folded her hands between her thighs, she instinctively held her breath as the group fell silent. After ensuring that everyone was quiet and listening, the girl began to speak in a slow, reverent and very articulate manner.
"Uhreaht, vori Solbrecht gi. We thank you for this food that you have provided for us. That it will fill our tummies and keep us healthy, and make us happy when we eat it. Myrrrrrsya."
The moment of silence that followed was filled up by short expressions of gratitude and bows of the head from all members of the circle. Returning to her place, the girl received a nuzzle between the ears from her mother as well as a shoulder rub from her older brother. After that, Masai felt the attention shift to her and Azdar, which wasn't unexpected. As guests, and attending the sharing of the morning meal for the first time, they were given the opportunity to pick first, even though there would be more than enough for everyone.
After thanking their hosts for the umpteenth time since their arrival, and a nod of approval from Niylaa, Masai proceeded to fill a modest wooden plate with the contents of the gourds and plates in the center, starting with a few pieces of jerked simr, and a combination of dried and fresh produce. Waiting for everyone to fill their plates, the rich flavors of the dried meat and sweet juicy fruits overwhelmed her senses in a similar way as the evening meal from the previous day, or any of the food they had been offered so far. It almost blew her mind how something so simple and pure tasted infinitely better than the bland, soulless cooking of the hotel she and Azdar spent a single night at.
"Ahmo…" Azdar began. Swallowing his last mouthful, he put his plate down, taking a breath before continuing. "Last night we talked a bit about why you wanted to leave the city. But how did you end up here, in this community?"
Niylaa smiled, putting her plate down between her long legs as she stretched them in front of her and leaned back on her arms, which had put on much more muscle since the last time Masai saw her.
"Indeed, that wasn't a coincidence. I knew that if I would go to any tribe, telling them I wanted to escape the city, I would be accepted as a member. No questions asked. However, it was a friend from work that told me she had family in this community. We went together on my first visit and I was convinced the moment I arrived here. They didn't hesitate to offer me a place among them." Lowering her voice to a whisper while leaning closer, like those she spoke off were listening in from a distance, she added, "Also, there's no mention of Wyr'Mo'Gwi."
"I see," her son muttered. "So, it was just the whole getting away from it all. Literally all the bad things."
Niylaa nodded. Poking with the claw of her index finger to remove a piece of simr from between her teeth and eating it, she shook her head as she stared at her near empty plate.
"There's very little stress here, Azdar. I'd almost say none at all. No more of the financial troubles that burden most people in the city. There's no politics. No corruption. No people destroying the lives of others for personal gain."
Thinking of what Niylaa looked like the last time she saw her, Masai knew very well what she meant. Azdar's mother used to look like the epitome of what that could do to a person. Not just the condition itself, but the side-effects of the antidepressants, which weren't necessarily made for Mantrins, took their toll on her body and mind. How emaciated she looked. Like a walking corpse. A lifeless shell, stripped of every zest for life that she once possessed. A shiver crawled over her spine when she recalled that image. The contrast between that and the strong, healthy woman next to her was so stark it was hard to believe they were the same person.
"I don't even need to take the pills anymore," Niylaa said with a shrug, like she couldn't believe it herself. "Can't get them anyway. No more money. I left it all to you, Azdar. For as long as you still need it." She smiled. It was a very genuine smile. True happiness which passed on to Azdar who answered her smile with one of his own. "Just know that… if you want this to be your home, it can be."
"It really is beautiful, isn't it?"
She didn't know what brought them here again at the end of the afternoon. Niylaa's little garden, focused for the most part on producing fruit and vegetables, had a small patch in the middle of one of its outer edges in which a modest collection of flowers bloomed like they were the last ones on the entire planet. A single yaloi flower, with its intense red petals, white lining and bright yellow heart, popped out of the group to greet them.
According to Niylaa she had no hand in the species of flowers occupying this particular piece of ground. She had left it bare at the start to let nature decide, and the fact that a yaloi had rooted itself on her patch was a sign of good fortune according to popular belief.
That it had turned into their object of focus wasn't strange, for it was a rare flower, and considered to be one of Solbrecht's most beautiful. Lying on their bellies on the soft grass side-by-side, Masai had her elbows planted on the ground, supporting her head with the palms of her hands, in the same way as her friend. Azdar's voice sounded so gentle and calm. So appreciative of the simple things around him, and when she looked to the side and into his golden brown eyes, she saw something she had never seen before, or rather the lack thereof.
There was no more of that deep-seated anger. No more everlasting sadness. They had been replaced by joy and a kind of love she had only seen on rare occasions, most of which involved the two of them being in close quarters, but never like this.
"It is. I love it here. I guess you do too."
"I do. I just… I just want to be happy."
"Azdar, I think that deep down all everyone wants is to be happy." Exhaling slowly, the warm air blowing out of his nostrils tickled her arm, before he redirected his gaze at the yaloi again. "And you can. It's like your ahmo said. This can be your home when you decide to settle down." Watching his ears move with short flicks, the ridges in his brow deepen as he pondered the possibilities of it all, she added out of the blue, "and I'd love to share it with you."
Now she could feel her hearts starting to race, realizing too late the true meaning behind those words. Wondering how long it would take for him to pick up on it, she looked the other way, the few ticks it took for him to respond feeling like an eternity. All the sounds around them, from voices and laughter, to the singing of birds and the murmuring river in the background sounded much louder to her all of a sudden. When he did however, it was like she hadn't even added her last statement.
"I kinda want to, just… not yet."
And that's when it happened. Sweet breath tickling her cheek. together with a light rub of a soft muzzle tip. A warm nuzzle in her neck. The gesture caught her off guard to such a degree, she let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. It also came out louder than intended, to the point where he backed off.
"S-Sorry, I don't know where that came from."
"Azdar…" She could feel her mouth fall open in joyous surprise when she looked at him, a fiery blush added to his cheeks and ears, visible despite the dark brown color of his skin. "Are you?"
Looking at her from the corner of his eye, he nodded ever so slightly. Crawling closer to him, until her shoulder touched his, she nuzzled into his neck, giving into every feeling she had suppressed until now as she listened to his purring.
Norgu and Hohra
With the rural town of Wyroht relying on little more than a first aid station as their primary source of medical care, Norgu wasn't surprised that Laila and his father had been taken to the nearest hospital in the city of Canarii-Ynearr. This lengthened their flight in pursuit of the two ambulances to about half a cycle at maximum speed.
With Tiarhlu being rushed into the emergency ward and no one being allowed to stay by his side as the doctors operated on his pierced lung, he had been asked to stay in one of the waiting rooms on the seventh floor with his and Laila's mother, while her father went back to pick up Jolrynn and Hohra. Recovery rooms had been reserved on the eighth floor for the new patients as soon as they were stabilized and the nurse assured them she would let them know when they had been moved there and were allowed to visit.
This particular waiting room was an area of about three standard rooms in size, conjoined with the hallway on one side, with the windows on the opposite side offering a splendid nighttime view of the city. Separated into two halves by the types of seats available, their group of three, and later six had installed themselves on the large, plain black floor pillows that lined the walls.
After realizing it was going to take a while before they were allowed to see their loved ones, and a short session of worrying about the degree at which their insurance policy would cover the financial implications of this act of police brutality, they all decided to make themselves as comfortable as possible for the night. This involved shoving as many of the pillows together to form a kind of mattress and dimming the overhead lights to their lowest setting using the controls on the wall.
Their rush to get to the hospital also meant that the decorated poetyo they all wore during Laila's coming of age ceremony now served as pajamas in this strange environment. Anyone walking past the waiting room, would come across the unusual sight of six Mantrins into a variety of sleeping positions, some of which involved using each other's shoulders or bellies as makeshift pillows.
Slumbering through most of the night, with Hohra's head on his chest and one arm wrapped around her back, Norgu grunted at a vague itch of his shoulder. Opening one eye at the same time as moving his hand to scratch at it, he looked straight up into the green eyes of the human nurse that made him a promise last night.
"Mister… Norgu, son of Tiarhlu?" she asked in a timid voice.
A head full of shiny, brown, curly hair fell upon her shoulders, covering part of her round, blushing cheeks in her bent over posture. It was her reserved smile and shyness he also encountered last night that made him return the gesture, despite the cramped feeling in several body parts.
Showing her a mouthful of glittering sharp as he yawned, a gentle shake woke his mate, who rubbed one eye with the palm of her hand as she worked her way into a seated position. The others woke up with similar grunts, groans and yawns, still adjusting to the fact that they weren't at home while the young nurse explained herself.
"Your father was transferred to his room on the above floor. Laila is there as well in the room adjacent to his. They're both still asleep and doing well. Visiting period begins in about a cycle. If you would like something to eat, the restaurant downstairs is open."
"Myrsya," he grunted in a harsher tone than intended. "We really appreciate it," he added, using a much softer tone of voice after realizing how that sounded.
Closing his eyes to the light and warmth of the rising sun, falling through the windows on his face and the woven strips of cloth covering his chest, he listened to the sound of the nurse's footsteps moving away in the left direction. When a purring Hohra added her warmth, by resting her head on his shoulder and nuzzling into his neck, he answered with a series of low vibrations coming from deep within his throat.
"I could eat something," he muttered under his breath.
"Me too," Hohra said with a mild sigh. "I'm so glad they're all right."
"Laila's young and strong. My erseh had me worried, but as always he was right about his thick hide."
Squinting through one eye, he spotted Jolrynn with his mother's arm around his shoulder. The good news about his sister had him trembling with relief after a turbulent night of restless and uncomfortable sleep. It eased the breathing of all six of them after what happened. With the shock starting to wear off, it became hard to ignore his growling stomach.
"Not too bad for a hospital restaurant," Norgu thought after paying for a modest but surprisingly good breakfast and thanking those behind the counter for their services. If anything, Canarii-Ynearr's hospital went to great lengths to cater to both humans and Mantrins in both medical care and additional services offered.
The circular restaurant, of which the decor with its flowering plants between tables and rugs, wooden separations and marble-like flooring tried to imitate a more natural environment, had a menu that appealed to both species. Being located at the front of the building, offering a view of the surrounding gardens and parking lot through the large curved windows, it was effective in making visitors forget they were in a hospital.
Taking the elevator to the eighth floor, they split into two groups when arriving at Tiarhlu's and Laila's rooms after a short walk. Jolrynn and his parents went right. He, his mother and Hohra went left. Norgu had tried to picture his father in a hospital bed beforehand, considering it was the first time, and it was almost exactly like he imagined.
Hospital beds for Mantrins and related subspecies were extra wide and capable of carrying a lot more weight. With his more than 600 pounds of it, his father managed to single-handedly put that to the test. Dressed in an oversized light blue hospital gown, he leaned heavily with his back into a pair of huge pillows, the metal of the bed creaking as he moved to see who entered the room. His enormous legs were covered by a white sheet, making it look like someone set up a tent on the bed and his big feet with the shiny black claws peeked out at the end. Nevertheless, despite the weary look on his face, his big brown eyes twinkled upon seeing his loved ones.
The tray on the bedside table carried a pair of empty bowls and he was accompanied by not one but two nurses. One was the same young woman that woke them that morning. The other was a middle-aged Orkeht. The Mantrin nurse excused herself first, when realizing they needed a bit more room. The human girl checked the monitor and attached tubing that led to the removable oxygen mask lying on Tiarhlu's belly, before tapping a few times on her holo-pad.
"You're doing fine, Mister Tiarhlu," she concluded. "If you need anything, I won't be far away."
Giving his chubby right arm a gentle rub, he smiled in response.
"Just Tiarhlu, remember?" he said with a heavy chuckle.
"Sorry 'bout that. Let me take this."
Placing the breakfast tray and the pad on a small wheeled cart she too excused herself and left the room, creating space for the visitors. Dividing themselves around the bed, Marrah licked her mate's cheek, the bed protesting with loud creaks as she leaned over to wrap her arms around his torso.
"I'm all right, Marrah. They're taking good care of me."
"Thank Solbrecht you are," she panted with relief.
As his father twisted his head the other way in his mate's firm embrace, Norgu stared into his eyes, which had turned into deep, dark brown pools of joy.
"Hey son," he hummed. "Hohra, good to see you."
Having taken his father's hand into his own, he was surprised at how cold it felt, which was something he wasn't used to. Bringing Tiarhlu's hand to his mouth, he warmed the chilly fingers that playfully tickled his soft beak with his breath.
"We're happy you're all right, erseh."
"I admit, I cut it close this time." Lowering the bed to its bottom position and with all three of them kneeling on the floor, they were able to have a conversation at equal height with the limited space and seating available. Sounding hoarse all of a sudden, Tiarhlu took a few rasping breaths through the oxygen mask before clearing his throat to resume speaking. "I have to stay here for another day and night, maybe two, but the danger has passed." Lowering one of his small ears he frowned at the looks of the faces around him, adding, "I'll be fine, I promise."
"Why does this keep happening?" Hohra asked, shaking her head, her larger ears flopping lazily. "This continuing violence. It's destroying everything."
"It's because of all the anger in the world," Tiarhlu answered in a calm tone of voice. "Maybe that was my mistake. I got angry. Anger fuels hatred and both are like fire. They consume and destroy." He heaved a deep, somewhat rasping sigh. "The only way to stop the violence is to stop being angry at each other. Find some common ground, for the sake of everyone."
Listening to his Tiarhlu's wise words, wishing that more were willing to take up the monumental task of trying to change the world as it was, they forgot about time, until Sehrra entered the room, followed by Jolrynn. It was time to switch.
Laila pulled through her own ordeal, the residual effects of the no'ciht venom expressing themselves through fatigue and an upset stomach, judging by the lingering smell of vomit in the room. When Norgu entered the room, the girl who had become a woman, smiled at him through squinted eyes. An IV line was attached to one arm and she was dressed in the same type of gown as Tiarhlu was. Around her neck, she still wore his Na'ganthur's tooth necklace, which reminded him once more that he had to make one for her, for she had earned it.
"Hey," she groaned, using whatever strength left in her muscles to reduce her slouching. "So happy to see you guys." Kneeling beside her bed, Norgu touched the back of his hand to her blushing cheek which felt feverishly warm and a little moist. Despite the potency of the venom and prolonged exposure, her youthful strength would aid in her recovery. "Sorry for the smell," she murmured. "I threw up on my first set of sheets. They changed them in the middle of the night."
"Don't you worry about that," he reassured her.
"Hey girl," Hohra interjected. "We totally forgot to congratulate you. You're officially an adult. Despite everything, how does that feel?"
Laila laughed. A bit reserved but genuine, nonetheless.
"Right now, I'm just glad I made it through all that. Don't worry, I will take it seriously when we're back home. How's Tiarhlu? I know he's in the other room. I just haven't seen him yet."
"He's doing fine," Marrah answered. "Thank technology for that. He'll have to stay for a bit longer for observation. You can go see him when you feel like it."
"I will," she said with a nod. Scrunching up her face in discomfort she looked upon each of them before turning attention to the door opening. "I… need to go to the bathroom. You think I can just take this thing out of my arm and go by myself?"
Raising her arm with the IV line attached, Norgu lowered an ear while looking at the monitor.
"I'll get the nurse, just in case," he decided.
Giving her a gentle rub between the ears, he got back on his feet and exited the room. Following the little lit signs in the hallway to the nearest nurses' station, he retrieved the Orkeht nurse who was with Tiarhlu before and followed her back to the room, only to run into a familiar face.
"Houn?"
"Norgu?"
His Goureg friend and crewmate was accompanied by a young human woman of a race called Asian, with a petite frame, a round face and shiny, long jet black hair. Her mouth fell open in awe, his size and heavier build causing her lips to form a silent 'wow'. Because she was so small in comparison, he had to keep himself from treating her as a child and not knowing how she and Houn were related, he greeted her in a standard fashion.
"Uhreaht, I'm Norgu. We're crewmates aboard the same ship."
"I'm Yukiko," she introduced herself, with a similar respectful bow of the head. "Nice to meet you. Houn and I have been close friends since kindergarten. As of yesterday, we're officially engaged."
"Engaged as in…"
"We're going to be mates."
What sounded self-evident from the way she said it was considered a mortal sin by a large portion of Solbrecht's inhabitants. He was glad to tell her he wasn't one of those after the initial surprise wore off. Houn had never told him or anyone else as far as he knew about having a love interest, and this would be the foremost reason not to.
Emphasizing their mutual desire, Houn lowered himself on his legs and tenderly pulled her close while she leaned into his belly and chest. Shaking off what he hoped wasn't too visible as astonishment, Norgu gave them a warm smile.
"Congratulations to you both. May Solbrecht bless you with long-lasting health and happiness."
"Myrsya," Houn and Yukiko thanked him in unison.
Warned by the nurse who walked with her, all three of them stepped aside for Laila, leaving her room on her way to the bathroom with uneasy steps. Quaking on her legs as she held on to one of the hand rails along the wall, she tried to smile as she greeted the newcomers.
"Visiting family?" Houn asked after wishing her well.
Norgu nodded in response, also introducing his mate when Hohra stuck her head around the corner, crowding the corridor even more with her presence.
"Hohra, my mate."
"So nice to meet all of you," Yukiko said with another bow. "We're visiting a friend who was injured in last night's riots. We were on our way to get a few cups of coffee and hesjwii when we ran into you."
Hohra shook her head.
"So much violence. It's getting worse and worse. We came to visit Laila and Norgu's erseh."
Grinding his teeth as he recalled his father's words about anger, Norgu sighed.
"My erseh was shot by a police officer last night. The police interrupted Laila's coming of age ceremony, claiming we were making too much noise. She became overexposed to no'ciht venom. I feel that because of my erseh's interference she is still alive." Filled with abhorrence, Houn and Yukiko expressed their feelings over the incident. Thanking them for their concern and kind words, they switched subjects until Laila's return. "I'll see you in a bit, Houn," Norgu excused himself as they parted ways.
"Take care," his friend said, he and his fiancée waving goodbye as they headed in the direction of the elevators.
Jetreycka, Majih and Seylah
The coolness of the night brought relief from the heat stress of another day that despite starting with heavy rain had the sun return in the afternoon at full force. With a bright glittering night sky devoid of clouds, the village burned less torches for illumination of the environment, with Solbrecht moons providing an ample amount.
It was on this night that Weylu had gathered her family out in the fields, on a patch of fallow ground and under the starry sky, and invited her guests to contemplate the events of the past few days. That the foster mother of her child was such a deeply spiritual person hadn't bothered Jetreycka in the least. In fact, she suspected it was the driving force behind her kindness and caring nature. Her mate Piyall was exactly the same. Patient, loving and devoted to his family and the community. Of course their seemingly carefree lives contributed to this.
When she looked into Weylu's eyes, which glittered like precious stones in the moonlight, her newest friend smiled back at her. They both held one of Naeya's hands, Weylu on the right and she on the left. In her other hand Jetreycka held Seylah's with Majih holding hers. Weylu formed the other part of the chain with the rest of her family, squeezing her youngest child in between her and Piyall. Despite their wide stance, it was still possible to hold hands side-by-side by putting their feet in alternating positions before and behind their neighbors'.
"Solbrecht's nights are beautiful," Piyall expressed his admiration for tonight's particularly clear view.
Weylu hummed in agreement, stargazing with the rest of the group, her tail rustling the short grass with calm sweeps.
"It's so hard for me to imagine there are other worlds like ours out there. And you've been to some of them. Are they just as pretty?"
Not only Weylu, but many members of her community shared the common interest of seeking beauty in almost everything. They were so easily satisfied, with simple and sometimes common things. Like patterns of color in the flower fields. Or the juicy center of a ripe fruit, before digging in their teeth. The faces of their loved ones. The contrast between these people who were happy with keeping things simple, and those in the city who appeared to have everything without ever being satisfied was baffling.
"Some of them are," Jetreycka answered. "I wish there was a way for me to let you experience the great waterfalls of the Oyara valley on Kurali II. I'll never forget that."
"Please, describe it for me," Weylu asked while closing her eyes.
"It's like this. You're in a forest, not unlike the one you call home. The valley is teeming with life. Filled with animals, plants, trees and flowers you've never seen before. Wherever you go you are surrounded by dazzling shapes, patterns and colors."
"I… I can see it," Weylu whispered.
"If you climb one of the hills, you'll see tall mountain ridges everywhere around you, the curtains of water falling from them producing a soothing rush that surrounds you and tells you everything's all right. You wait until nighttime and the falling water starts to produce a glow like the color of the Goureg eye. Brighter and brighter it grows, until it starts rippling through the forest in a breathing motion, reacting with the plants and trees which begin to produce light in various colors of blue and green and purple."
"It's so pretty," her friend gasped.
(What are Mantrin lullabies even supposed to sound like? In this case I wanted it to fit Weylu's personality.) Gareht Coker – Ori and the Blind Forest (Original Soundtrack) – The Sacrifice (feat. Aeralie Brighton): watch?v=iM131AO9644&t=107s
The others, including the children fantasized with her, their eyes closed, their grip softening as their arms and shoulders slackened. Weylu herself began to hum a lullaby, or at least Jetreycka suspected it was, for its melody sounded familiar, yet she couldn't remember where she heard it before. Many modern lullabies found their origin in tribal songs and this could very well be one of those ancient melodies sung to little children for over a thousand solar cycles.
Weylu's gentle voice had just the sort of quality and pitch to make it sound ethereal without much effort. Jetreycka watched in admiration, while others either did the same or listened to the sound of her voice with their eyes closed, their ears twitching in focus. Until her voice trailed off after the last note and she opened her eyes. Hands were released, the chain broken as everyone gathered a bit more around her. Her next question hit her by surprise.
"I wish you could stay longer. You're leaving in the morning, right?" Wishing herself she didn't have to acknowledge, Jetreycka did. And with remorse, exchanging a quick glance with the girl who used to be her daughter. "You're welcome to return to us any time. I hope to see you again. Please come back." Giving Naeya a little rub between her ears, Weylu gave a small sigh. "We'll continue to work on that."
"I have to leave," Jetreycka answered with a longing look in Naeya's eyes, hoping to catch one more glimpse of recognition somewhere. "But I will come back. I'll bring Ardiin. It's a promise."
Not long thereafter, she felt Weylu's arms around her neck, pulling her into a hug, which she answered with all her hearts and without words, but also with unavoidable anxiety. During the past few days she had learned that the entire tribe feared a war between Wyr'Mo'Gwi and the human colonists could devastate a lot of communities, even those that were not directly involved.
After releasing each other, Naeya squeezed herself in between them and to her surprise, Jetreycka felt her daughter's hands wrap around her middle, resting her head on her chest.
"I like you, Jetreycka. Please come back."
Watching Weylu smile, before her vision blurred, she swallowed before answering. Naeya was in capable, caring hands, there was no doubt about that. Begging Solbrecht for just a little help in keeping this community safe, she made her the same promise as she made the woman who would continue to be her mother for as long as Naeya saw her as such.
"I like you too, Naeya. You'll see me again. Very soon."
