Descending into Darkness Book 1

Four: Time with the family

J'onn sat in his room, cross-legged and straight-backed. His eyes were closed, and his breathing regular.

It was a week after the Festival of Fight, and right from the moment when they had left the stage, J'onn had planned to work hard so that he could master the Lathal and shape-shifting quickly.

First came the Fight, he decided, then the joining of the Manhunters.

Khale had given him a knowing look, and shared another with S'loal and Alarial which J'onn couldn't understand. But his tutor had abandoned some of his more traditional ways of imparting information and knowledge, and had turned his attention to training J'onn's mind, giving him history lessons through it.

And for once, J'onn was more serious in his lessons than he had ever been, delighting his parents and even Khale, who tried to hide it.

Now, as noises from outside tickled his ears, J'onn slowly withdrew himself from the shallow level of meditation Khale had taught him over the week. He listened for a moment to the voices, and sudden excitement at knowing his grandparents had already arrived replaced the remnants of calmness from the meditation that was supposed to control his quickly-changing emotions.

"Oops," J'onn muttered for a moment before he quickly went out.

"Grandmother!" he exclaimed. "Grandfathers!" He ran to his paternal grandmother and was quickly hugged.

"Hello J'onn. How are you doing?" Mh'im asked.

"Good!" J'onn grinned at her before hugging both his maternal and paternal grandfathers-Osiedin and P'loia.

"How was the Festival, J'onn?" P'loia asked.

There were groans from both Alarial and Bilquarion that interrupted J'onn before he could speak.

"No!" Bilquarion waved her hands frantically. "Don't ask him that!" She pointed an accusing finger at her younger brother. "He has been raving about that for the whole week and we have gone mad!"

J'onn glared at his sister as his family chuckled and laughed. Mh'im defended the youngster and also glared at the others, then patted the empty space on the seat she was on.

"Tell me all about it," Mh'im said.

And while S'loal, Alarial and Bilquarion prepared the food, J'onn told the whole story of the Festival of Fight to all three of his grandparents.

When he finished, J'onn turned to Osiedin. "Was grandmother Q'uein a Manhunter?"

The whole house seemed to grow silent and the air became heavy. J'onn saw Osiedin's face fill with grief, and sensed movement cease behind him.

"Yes," Osiedin finally answered after a long silence, and his voice seemed to move slowly, as if dragged down by the weight of many memories that lay in the space between he and J'onn. "She was one of the best third generation Manhunters. When the Ma'aluk'in were banished to the Still Zone, some of them escaped, and were in hiding for a long time. The Manhunters both enforced the law amongst ourselves and tracked down all of the remaining Ma'aluk'in."

"She must have been very good," Bilquarion whispered in reverence.

Osiedin smiled and nodded. "She was."

Bilquarion and J'onn glanced at each other, neither having the courage to ask what happened, though they knew that it must have been bad if she was not there in their presence.

"The last Ma'aluk'in killed her and her partner before others caught him." Osiedin's amber eyes glowed briefly in sorrowed memories.

At last, P'loial stirred and clapped Osiedin on the shoulder. "The food is getting cold!"

Everyone laughed again and started to bustle about, relieving the tension and grief.

Bilquarioni exchanged thoughts with J'onn, and they both sneaked into the kitchen, pouring two small cups of the highly-valued *Ulúmin* drink, and stepping out of the house.

Together, they raised their cups towards the thick, billowing clouds and to the stars that twinkled beyond, out of their sight.

"For you, with love, Grandmother Q'uein," they whispered together, drinking the Ulúmin before returning to the house where loud laughter and many voices talking to one another could be heard.