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 Posted: Fri Oct 11, 2013 10:40 am
the start of something terrible When the shaman had narrowed his lime green eyes and tut-tutted over her nest, Sseng had remained calm. She had even smiled faintly when he had pushed the smallest of the eggs off to one side with a twisted claw. It was not uncommon for khehorans in her family to go bad before they had left the shell, but old Kreth had only set aside one egg. One dud. Two healthy keinlings. She would happily take those odds.
Over the next several months, the Diabi coddled her future hatchlings, rocking them and crooning the silly little songs she recalled hearing when she was small. The dud remained, for it was unlucky to remove it completely, but it was never held or rocked, and only the thin strains of second hand songs washed over its shell.
On the eve of the blood moon, Sseng's first egg began to crack. At first, since she rarely took her eyes off of the two eggs Kreth had deemed healthy, she didn't notice the hairline fracture that wove its way down the pale dud's shell. When she finally did see it, it was only because the keinling inside began to rock. Sseng awoke from a midday nap to the feeling of the cool egg tapping against her skin. She chirred happily, wrapping her tail around the child. It seemed the shaman had been wrong. Or maybe it had been she who had misunderstood.
She stayed awake all night, watching her unexpected first born struggle, waiting for him to make his way into the world under his own power, but he never did. Eventually she relented, gently working a claw between the keinling's tiny body and his shell and helping him to be born. She remained alert for the entirety of the following day and most of the one after. His siblings never joined him.
Sseng had named the children she thought she would have Kief and Rius after her parents, but she called this new son Faraf, the name meant to mimic the sound of his struggling breath in those early weeks. He was so weak that the food she had gathered so she wouldn't need to leave him during his first month of life had to last almost six in the end, and by that time, Sseng was barely eating herself. Her keinling, however, had fought off his persistent cough and had taken to following her around their cave like a shadow, watching everything she did with a piercing curiosity. What he lacked in strength, Faraf seemed to make up for in intelligence, though he never spoke, at least not until he was ready.
When they finally ventured outside, she showed him how to hunt, her eyes following him every time he moved as if afraid to lose him too. She doted almost to the point of smothering the child, all of the love she would have given his brothers concentrated on him. If she cared enough, he would be well. He would never leave her.
Every evening, well after the sun set, they curled together in front of the fire and Sseng hummed the songs the keinling had only heard from far at the edges of the nest. One chilly autumn night, Faraf hummed back.
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Posted: Fri Oct 11, 2013 10:41 am
questions without answers Sseng slapped her tail against the rocks along the shore of Koralifel as Faraf trotted to her side and dropped a wizened fish at her feet. The pickings here were slim and weak, but her keindred was not yet strong enough to fish in the ocean. He was barely strong enough to fish here.
"Very good!" Sseng cheered, her claps slowing as her son took a seat. It was really no wonder he was no good at fishing. When one first looked at Faraf, they might have been distracted by the young drakein's pale flesh, cracked skin, or empty eyes, but up close, his lanky limbs and bony physique were plainly visible to anyone who cared to look. Those who stuck around might have even noticed he never quite took to the air either, but Sseng usually scared away those curious enough to do so, or at the very least, made up convincing excuses as to why her son was not gliding around like the other drakein his age.
Faraf, for what it was worth, didn't care who knew he had trouble with his wings. There were better things to do with one's time than learn to fly anyway. Not that he hadn't tried.
"Thank you, mother. Though I don't understand why we had to have this lesson today. The drizzle is awful, and I can't stop shivering." He hunched closer to the ground and gathered his tail around his feet, looking for all the world like a hairless fekarat on an autumn night.
"You can't stay in that cave forever, no matter what the weather is doing," she replied absently, dragging a claw down the creature's middle and spreading the two newly-made halves apart.
Faraf watched attentively as she gutted the fish, his features withering in irritation as she spoke. "It's not that cave. It's our home. And I prefer it to this place. Can we even eat that?"
"No, we cannot. It has lived its whole life in those dark waters and it's dangerously corrupted."
"Was that a metaphor?"
"It was a warning to stay away from the fish in Koralifel, nothing more."
Faraf snorted, a thin plume of dark smoke issuing from his nostrils. "Fair enough." His gaze remained on his mother as she pushed the fish back into the water. The lesson was complete, but the brainy keindred was never without questions. He would later wonder why he had chosen that particular moment to ask the question he did, but despite the discomfort the answer caused him, he never truly regret asking.
"My father... was he weak?"
Even though her attention was on the water and her gaze was turned away from him, Faraf felt the already chilly temperature drop by several degrees. Whether it actually did or not was up for debate, but he doubted he would ever forget how that moment felt.
"Your... father," Sseng practically spat the word, "was not one of us. Your brothers suffered for it, as do you. I should have never taken up with him, but I thought I was doing what was best."
"He wasn't Diabi? Which clan—"
"I will not speak of him further. Do not ask." Her tone and the volume of her reply were as calm as the glassy surface of the lake, but Faraf shuddered and sat upright in response, something in her words piercing him anyway. Though he had no wish to take back what he had said, he knew better than to continue down this path.
"I won't," he breathed. What she wouldn't tell him, he would find out on his own.
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Posted: Fri Oct 11, 2013 10:41 am
naughty Once his mother's ire had slowly worn away and he had vowed to himself to never speak of his father in her presence again, things returned to roughly how they had been before. Life was soft and comfortable for him in Sseng's lair, and Faraf knew he should have simply been content to take advantage of it for as long as he was given the chance. Instead, as time passed, a fierce restlessness arose in him. He became simultaneously terrified of and excited by what lay beyond the small circle of influence his mother allowed him, and when the young keinova found himself alone more and more often as Sseng's responsibilities outside the cavern grew, he itched to satisfy this newfound curiosity.
Faraf had been aware for quite some time that the rocky cave he called home was only a small part of a larger system of caverns, so he chose to explore there first. As it turned out, getting his bearings and learning the ins and outs of this new space occupied him for more than half of the next year. By the time he felt truly comfortable with his expanding reality, he had learned so much that he wondered what the outside world could teach him that he didn't already know. The little he'd seen of it as a youngling could hardly compare to the hot springs, strange mineral deposits, and interesting animals he'd encountered since, not to mention the other drakein.
Most of his peers were pleasant, accommodating creatures, happy to share their stories and knowledge without prejudice, but those weren't the only sorts in his cavern. He also encountered plenty of his kind who found him intolerable, for reasons he wouldn't come to understand for quite some time. He became accustomed to the stares and sidelong glances his odd skin occasionally earned him, but he never got used to those who would seek to physically retaliate for the things he couldn't control.
He met Oora purely by chance, having chosen her cave to cut through at a time when she had actually been at home. Faraf had been running from a trio of unusually insistent bullies, all humiliatingly smaller than he was, but made much more fearsome by their number. She had taken one good look at him, and with a shake of her head, had deterred his enemies with a bellow and a swipe of her deadly claws.
When he had later asked her why she had interfered, the Ysali had laughed her wonderful, terrible laugh and told him she had been looking for an excuse to smack around the punks that had attacked him for years. He hadn't believed her. It hadn't made him love her any less. She was a mentor, a friend, a trainer, even an sometime lover, but no matter how often he found himself gravitating toward her cave, Oora's importance in his life would never be something he could explain to his mother. It made him feel devious, having a secret he couldn't share with his kin, and he found he quite enjoyed the feeling.
In the end, it was she who pushed him to leave their caverns on his own for the first time.
"You're as ready as you'll ever be. I've taught you more than you think. In case you haven't noticed, we haven't spent nearly as much time rutting as we used to."
"I have noticed, actually." Faraf stretched lazily, a dark plume of smoke escaping his throat as he yawned. "I was beginning to think you'd tired of me... had moved on, into the arms of some strong, young..."
He yelped as she struck him with her tail, dissolving into laughter as she continued her gentle assault.
"My poet kein flatters me, as always. I would love to keep your charming golden tongue with me forever, but the time has come for you to grow up."
"Hey! I'm—"
"If you don't leave the caves tomorrow, I will find some brawny, young Aedaun to do my bidding, and then where will you be?"
A sick glut of fear settled in his stomach at the prospect of heading out into Soudul by himself. "Can't I wait until at least next week?"
"No. Tomorrow."
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Posted: Tue Oct 29, 2013 9:48 am
a testdragon hunt | ysali | lose I shouldn't have left the cave. That was... harrowing, though I think I might have made a new friend. Maybe. She's not particularly friendly.
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Posted: Mon Nov 11, 2013 5:44 pm
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Posted: Wed Jan 01, 2014 9:21 pm
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Posted: Wed Jan 01, 2014 9:22 pm
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