Kelfasi Nights
"Dear Myzen,
The season of cold comes again, with the chill in the air, and the whisper of our distant sun. She burns blue, and I find myself more and more sluggish, unable to focus on anything as much as I could before. The rains come, signaling it is time for the great slumber, and be ready for the dreams of the dark. I hope you get my messages to you, when you awaken. I'll be long asleep, but have left you a few surprises around the domain, so you will not be so bored. Please, make yourself at home,
Suns Blesings,
Kapnez"
Winter was wonderful. The chill cold ruffled my thick fur, and I crept through the dark, seeing by the star shine and great light of the three moons high above. The three gave their blessing and lit the early night, and let me laugh with joy, to awaken from the long, dark dreams. I hollered my joy - and I was greeted by others of the Nightkin, the Kelfasi, whom lifted their voices to echo across the night. We were awake, and the burning star was gone, no longer giving us trouble.
I crept the ground low, on six legs, the glowing of my luciferin stalks along my skull helped guide me through the dark world, as well as identified me to those of the great clan. The light, a dull green, was distinct, and gave me enough light to see for hundreds of feet, but my eyes were good, and built for it with double lenses to focus down and deep. I stalked through the street, maintained well and frigid, the icey winter a balmy negative-three Celsius. I splayed my arms, catching a breeze to cool myself off, and stalked through, rippling my fur and moving on hexapeds, before leaping up and climbing high, to get a view of my peoples. My tail, long and thick and thickly furred, gripped a nearby post against the side of the building, and I looked out, onto the sea of lights, and people.
There were four hundred of us, four hundred in this warmer climate near the equatorial belt. At times it would get distinctly hot, but we survived, and thrived, with our fur and endless tenacity and the help of our sleeping sisters and brothers.
"Myzen." A voice caught me by surprise, and I turned, my head shifting, and body rippling to face the visage of Maralouk. Her snout shifted, and she studied my light, which rippled under her observation, I feeling shy about such a figure as her near me. I was young, certainly, I had seen sixty winters long and cold, but she had seen a hundred and sixty. She always did hunt the younger ones. Her hard mouth stayed still, eyes sharp. "You pulse healthy. We celebrate another awakening, then set about our work. Did you dream well?"
"I did not dream at all." I lied. I gave her a brush with my whiskers against hers, and then slid down, leaping into the snow bank below, barely frozen as it was, and bounced my way over a fence, to find what work could, should, be done. She did not follow me, as I touched whiskers with a few of my fellows, and went about, taking stock and inventory - we had been prepared with enough food to last us two of the twenty lunar cycles before the sun rose, but it would be enough, enough to hunt, and work beneath the ground at our dormant crops. They would grow in the bitter cold; all life could grow in the cold, if given the proper reasons. I was one of the growers - it was my allotment for the first eighty seasons, before moving on to something new, something different.
"Fur looks terrible!" I heard from my left, and turned, before tumbling back, leapt upon by my elder brother by five seasons. We tumbled and bit one another, our claws digging in, while we fought in the snow. He slashed my throat and I kicked his mid-joint, sending him sprawling. He laughed, and I flung snow into his face, dashing his head back against a wall. He laughed once more, and made a rude sound. "Lights look dull, getting tired already?"
I flared my lights, bright enough to dazzle, and leapt up to pounce my brother, sending him snout first into the snow, and burying his face into the frost. He squeaked and struggled, gasping for a breath from his second slit, and then sneezed, snow shooting out. He grumbled.
"You win! Let me up!"
I did, after stepping on his rear and tail, and darted off, leaving him chasing after me. We wove through the crowd, diving and leaping those of the city and circling wide, wide about the rim to burn off the energy reserves stored - it always felt good to stretch, and the food tasted a hundred times better. The first meal would be prepared in a few hours, enough to work up our appetites, and enough for me to explore what had changed in the hot season - when the twin suns burned bright and angry.
I leapt another wall, and ducked flat, suppressing my light to hide and burrowing into the warm frost to hide myself with a wash of grey fur to grey ice. He over-shot me and my hiding place, I hiding a grin, and keeping myself as still as the night sky, waiting for him to find me, or to move away. He glanced, looked, and placed his tail to the snow - making me stop breathing 'lest he feel the vibrations. He didn't and bounced off, stalking after me again. I moved from cover and placed the wall between me and he, and stalked him and his glow. He was fast, but I was smart, and followed him for an hour before growing bored, and exploring the cityscape at rest.
The city was called Anic, a great port for receiving the trade that would arrive in six months - trade from across the great frozen sea (may I never witness it melt),and across the plains and mountains, where it was far cooler, and much more a joy. The great moons moved in slow rotation to cast light upon the city, reflections of the two close-orbiting suns, who would collide one day, in perhaps a hundred million years. I would be long dead by that time, or so I hoped - it would be a beautiful, horrible event to watch, and the death of my people, and those of the Daykin.
Suns and Stars, when I was older, I would put in my request to study the great celestial spheres, beneath the gaze of the ancestors and the harsh tutors. The call of the higher education was harsh, and few could master it's basics, but I would try, and even if I failed, few could admit to gaining the notice of the great Sky-Watcher, Setia. I had.
It had been during my work in the shop of my former teacher when he had come in, and held out a small telescope - his own, with exquisite optics to stare upon the stars without the glare of the moons. His lenses had broken during the heat of the fire season, where one of the Daykin had bumped into it, and broken such a work of art. A note had been laid with it, as well as an apology and recompenses for such a travesty, which had mollified the wrath of the skywatcher, but left his device broken, and unusable. I had spent a grand amount of time fixing it, to the detriment of my other studies, but the basics of engineering and mathematics helped me understand the principles. As I worked, he sat, eating snow and the milk of the underground plants. I had to subsist on the leavings of the smaller meals, fit for those who learned, to keep them healthy, but hungry to improve themselves.
"Smart, for a farmer." He gave me an extra portion of his meal, and a few chits on the side, for my own entertainment after I was done for the cycle. As a people of the moon, we knew the rhythms of time better than any other - and could tell it by the basic instinct and five minutes in the wind.
I sighed, as I approached the meal table - the first moon high, and her sisters raising up to greet us. I felt pleased, and came up to the long table, where the cold meats were shaved of frost, and the touch of blood gave it hue. From the stockpiled plants, I was given my selection, omnivorous as I and my people were. I sat upon a lain blanket to keep snow from sticking to my genitals, and curled my tail with the female beside me, Reebah. She gave me a bump and whisker twitch, before we bowed our head and gave thanks to the moons, the distant suns, and those who had guarded us as we slept.
"May your light our life, until we sleep again." We said in unison, and ate.
"Dear Myzen,
What is the night sky like? I know you dream of the day, as I dream of the stars. I wonder, seeing the images and markings left of your people, but never have chance to see them myself. I sometimes wish I could see them with you. I know that is impossible, I would shatter in the frost, and you would die in the heat. I hope this finds you in health, wealth, and happiness.
Suns Blessings,
Kapnez"
I found her letter for me, when I dipped deep into the shafts of the frozen earth, and into the long chambers, where plants grew wild, the glowing mushrooms bright and healthy. They thrived in the cold earth, nearly a kilometer deep, where the long tunnels held secret climbs, so people could breath and work down low. I, and my team, set to work quietly sorting through the chambers of the deep tunnels, and we set to work, clearing away pests and old growth, and preparing the ground and ceiling and walls all the same. Some of the pests dug deep, a few burrowed with sinuous movements of their body, deep into the ground where it grew warmer, from geothermic activity. I let them go with an angry spray.
The plants grew asymmetrically, while emitting a glow that fed the tubers at the ground, which were then consumed by the mushrooms, which emitted more light. A casual cycle, it made me smile, and think of simple things - while I weeded out and re-planted in the warm soil, my body feeling hot but for the cool snow brought down to help me drop excess temperature. The underground work would get hot quickly, and dangerously, if not for the constant breeze, and the steady work of the elevators up and down. To the distance, the mining work was done by the elder females, and those who preferred the simple labors. They had grown steadily used to the heat over the years, giving them more ability to handle it than we who worked farming. I could have joined them in a few more cycles, but I did not relish the skyless dark.
I began to sew meat into the dirt, giving the plants a feast, while awaiting them to get to growth. I worked down the line of nearly six kilometers, the work hard but steady, and in my mind I focused on the mathematical principles of optics and astronomy. The distances between stars were vast and empty, much as the distance between moon and our world was great.
"Soon, we can go and rest." The voice of my line partner, who broke the earth with her long, black claws, spoke. It was Yanamah, a tall, slinky female, who had long worked beside me, and helped me when I was only yearling pup. I was fresh off the teat when she had taken me to learn the ways of the farmhands and plant biology; my ten cycles of education strong in my head, with fourteen hibernations between birth and first year plants. She was twenty six cycles my senior, and had flowered well into maidenhood. "It will take a number of rests to get this into work, but we will harvest well. The Daykin left us a grand supply; we need not worry too much about it."
Her claws cracked the frost, and she scooped it out, some of it being rubbed against her neck to help relieve the heat, before casting it to a trough, where it would be scooped, or, if it got hot enough, melted down. She cracked hard as I dug into the dirt and churned it, before placing the dead meat and several tuber seeds beneath it, readying for them to grow, absorbing the nutrients. The plants were tough and strong, what would not be harvested by the mushroom would be harvested for food, or boiled down to make a strong, durable cloth or wax or whatever else it was needed for. It was a strong plant, and could handle the cold amazingly well, being filled with an anti-freezing agent, as did most plants.
"Would you like to go to my den when we are done?" She asked.
"I would like that." I replied, thanking the runner who delivered more of the rotted meat, before daring to get another load for another line. I transferred it to the woven case on my back, and continued my line. "Perhaps we can compare letters?"
Mine was tucked into my vest, which held my tools and blades, useful for turning the earth and carving through plants. I had used a hammer to loosen some of the frosted ice which had been left for us to find - a parting gift from friends.
"Certainly, I think that might be fun. I have been left some spindletea, if you would like to share some with me?" I nodded, ears dipped to acknowledge that, indeed, I would love to have some of her delicious tea. It was chopped finely and put in some boiled water, though one would have to be quick to avoid heating too much, and then left to freeze after boiling for some time. The ice would melt on the tongue, and the flavor was rich and bitter, the way I liked it. I nodded again, and patted her shoulder, as we worked.
"Dear Myzen,
Thank you for your kind words and encouragements. I have been chosen to enter the academy, in our city of Portrade. The waters and shore offer soothing sound, I can hear it was I listen to the lectures of the Philosophers. I am learning a great deal, and I am thankful that you convinced me to go into study. I have also taken up the harp. I'm going to study engineering. I have an idea for how we can share notes together, without having to use paper or press materials. I hope it works out, I'll work on it this season.
Suns Blessing.
Kapnez"
Leaving the farms tired and sore, I, with my arm around the shoulder of my larger partner, Yanamah, made my way with her towards an open-air drinking establishment, relishing the feeling of the cool air against my hot body. I think she did as well, as she held an arm against my foreback, we both walking quads instead of spetapeds, if only to relieve stress on our backs. It also let us both look at the stars, and twine light flanges together. It was intimate, and close, but few would care for the revelries of the first lunar cycle - for time was good, harvest was great, and there had been no raids from the outland barbarians.
The open air bar gave rise to soft glow of the long time tender, her muzzle entirely gray, and one eye milky white of the two. Her colors had dimmed considerably, but there was no doubt to the fierceness of the mind behind those eyes, and the cracking attitude that would make anyone jump to avoid it faster than her claws. I knew, I had a notch taken out of one ear from pissing her off.
"So the pup finally decides to pay his grand-mother a visit." She muttered, while giving me a rude shove. My partner stepped aside to get out of range of the wrath as an ear was pulled, and teeth bit my neck. I stiffened, chastised. She put a claw on my chest. "Make me wait for a passing before coming to visit? Your father would tan your hide, male!"
"Sorry, Mam." I stated, staying still to avoid any further wrath, and tightened my grip on the snow. One did not strike back at an elder female - they had nothing to lose once they stopped baring kits. Secretly, I wondered if they weren't all evil, it was a known fact a male never out-lived the female he was bound to. "My work makes me busy!"
"Work? Work?!" She spat, my blood rich on my neck, and she twisted my ear enough to make me yelp. "Just work? Not even having the female meet with me before you go cavorting about with her, you hot blooded bastard? What, your balls just drop?"
I tucked my tail down at that.
"No Mam. I mean yes Mam. I mean..."
"Shut up." She growled. I did. She shoved me aside and turned to glance at Yanamah, who busied herself with observing an ice sculpture, displaying a handsome male Nightkin standing with a spear in his hand, one of the thematic pieces that my Mam always liked having about. She studied the long histories, and being older than anyone else in the whole of the city-clan, I knew her to be probably as old as history! Of course, I dared not say it to her face, or anywhere she could find out, which was anywhere at all.
"Yanamah, has my little grandson been behaving himself?" She asked, her voice suddenly as sweet as spindle-tea or mothers milk. I fidgeted, reaching to rub at the bite on my neck, which burned a bit. "Keeping his paws to himself and not thinking with his cock?"
"Yes Ma'am, I make sure of it." She said, suddenly amused at how bright my glow had gotten, as I tried to avoid being teased, or made fun of. I stood, reaching over for some chipped ice with flakes of milk in it, to take my mind off the fact I had messed up badly in not greeting my Mam straight away. I sat on the snow-cleared wooden floor, a harvested gift from a northern land. The wood felt good, it didn't crunch as I walked. "I'm also his partner at the farms."
"Ah yes, I remember you asking to take him on in training. He does well, he does well. For a male." Both looked at me as I stuffed the ice into my mouth to suck on, and turned my eyes to avoid their own, last thing I needed was to make my Mam feel like I wasn't in my place. She nodded. "What you see in him, I don't know, but you've always had my blessings, dear. Does your mother know you've chosen him?"
I grunted, stiffening, and stared. My Mam flicked her old, scarred ears, and squinted at me.
"Yes, I discussed it with her, and she gave her blessing for his young, but I was going to ask him at my den. I'm nearing cycle for my first pups, and he's a good line. I've known him for years, as a friend, and as a good working partner. I think he'll make a good father, with a grandmother like you about, ma'am."
"Well, I'm sure he'll know what to do. He's always been a gentle one, even with his brothers. His father was a good male, shame he died before he could impart anything to his son. Raised by females alone, you know. Maybe it's better for him." My grandmother gave me a look, and a bit of a wink. She was a tough battle-axe, most certainly, but she cared for her descendants as strongly as any mother, and twice as aggressive. She gave me a pat on the head, nodded to my partner. "Strong pups."
"Do I have any say in this?" I asked, only to duck out of the way of a swat which would have clobbered me. It was enough of an answer, I supposed.
I turned, as Yanamah laid an arm around my shoulder, and she bumped her hip with mine in a soft squeeze of a forelimb to mine, she taking a hexaped position, and I joined her, resting full belly to the ground. She nestled her side with me, sharing her warmth, and letting her lights twine with mine in a gentle cascade. She had been there when mine fully lit - in my second season after leaving the teat. She had been a friend since very young, and, I suppose, had groomed me for fatherhood with her. In a way, I was honored, flattered to be chosen by her. I was surprised she wanted me around so much, rare was it for a pair of work partners to draw so close.
"Thank you for being willing to ask." I said, bumping whiskers with her. "It's very non-traditional, I'm surprised at that."
She leaned in and licked the blood of my neck slowly, to help clean the injury, not that I was worried about infection - a simple scruff bite always healed well.
"I'm a modern girl; they are your cubs, so you should have some say in who mothers them. We aren't in the age of ignorance anymore. I mean, what am I going to do, tie you up and force you to mate with me? You would wiggle too much, or enjoy it. Not sure which." She laughed, and I grunted, scratching my neck. "So relax, Myzen, it'll be all okay. Let's eat, then we can go talk in the den."
My Mam left us be while understanding, thankfully, the concept of privacy. I wrapped an arm around my claimant, and twined tails with her, publicly. It was a small act that many would notice. I was claimed as hers. My eyes closed, as I bathed in her glow, and she matched hue with mine. It was a perfect day, a momentous day, I was acknowledged as a full adult now, with a female to lead what would become a family in a dozen lunars.
And then the mood was shattered by the cry of a horn, a horn that spoke of a raiding party from the east, a party of the dark runners who loved nothing more than to raid the cities and civilizations that lined the coast between frozen waters and the rich, fertile lands. I shuddered, and felt myself grow fearful - but for the comfort of Yanamah beside me. She shivered, but stood, and gestured me up. I rose tall and uncoiled my tail and dimmed the lights about my body to barely a flicker.
"Raiders." I murmured, feeling my back stiffen, and my tail arch up in preparation or a war dance - my hind feet thumping down, instinct wanting to take over - but I suppressed it - burning energy now would only wear me down before a fight. I had been trained before, everyone in the city had been given a few days of training with claw and spear and crossbow, made of tightened chord and steel. I was tossed a crossbow and handed a spear. My claws and teeth were ready, and hungry for blood.
It was every season they came to raid - for many places it was easier to raid for food, and goods, than it was to build or find. They had the urge to raid and an urge to battle and bathe in blood, and had even made war upon the sleeping ones, who we were steadfast in keeping safe during our watch of the cold age. The raiders were a vicious breed, worthy of condemnation and death, and I slid into the snow-packed dark, and kept from the watch of the three goddesses high in the sky. I crept the snow and between the buildings, then dug in behind a low, cracked wall - my ears peeled for the sound of steps. I dug into the snow and lowered my head, the crossbow propped and ready for use, my spear lain beside me. I was ready for war.
We Nightkin fought together, but ambushes were always done hard, fast, and alone. In the township, with the stone and wooden buildings covered high and safe, and the deep burrows of the Daykin guarded both by traps and heavy vaults of steel to keep all but fresh, if cold, air out, they would be safe from a direct assault, but provided little comfort to the raided. The cubs would be taken down into the great sleeping burrows of our people, and guarded with the finest - a last line of defense for the whole, with planting done early in the event of raids. The raiders would hit and run - the cowards never liked a protracted fight. I didn't either. I held my position, ears high, listening for the crunch of snow.
And waited.
"Dear Myzen,
Do you still get raided? I know the times are hard in the frozen times, when there is no blessed suns to heat the planet, and you have to eat plants of the underground (We left it extra fertile as best we could!). We don't have raids on our side, it's too much work to kill someone for such free, abundant things. I wish I could share it with you, but I don't think you are able to eat what we thrive off of. I never understood why your people get raided. I hope I never do. If you get raided, please stay safe. I would hate to never get to read your letters to me.
Kapnez"
Waiting is always the hardest part. Waiting for the moments to be right, where the air is tense with anticipation, and the lights want to glow bright, announce yourself with a war scream, like the yells some half-light-length away. I can feel it close - a distraction to draw them in - the raiders are smart though, and don't go for it. Not all of them, at least. I kept myself down, as the sound of crunching snow caught my ear, and made me bare my teeth. My belly was tight, my groin flush with anticipation of a most intimate dance, and I wanted to piss myself with fear. I waited, my spear clasped tight, the snow piled upon me a half-inch thick, keeping me cool and dim, and in the sweltering heat, I wasn't threatening to pass out. I would get very hot, very soon.
They spoke their barbaric tongue, a guttural utterance of the sweeter tones of my people. There were the lights of four, third the glow-spots on my back and brow. They walked past me, casting light that would have spotted me, but I was ready, I was prepared. I rose slowly, making almost no sound, and drew the crossbow up as they walked past, looking for their prey. The fight was distant, the wind carried the yells, yelps, and screams. A raid of one hundred strong, a death raid.
I turned, pivoting in the snow, and lifted the crossbow up and set the stock upon the red stone fence, to take aim on the neck of one of the passed warriors. A ring mail crossed their torso and back, clasped their hips and tucked down their tails, weighing them down, but they were strong, built for the discomfort. I adjusted the aim to the join between helmet and coif, and fired the shout - loud enough to shock them, but not before ducking down, having seen the arrow stab through the neck and leave my target gurgling. The odds were not in my favor, but without the risk of death, valor was pointless. I waited, and leapt out with a yell, and drew my spear to stab down. I could leap powerfully, and it took another by surprise.
This left me still over-matched and over-powered, spear buried into the chest of a ring-clad foe, and facing two more females. The spear had stabbed through the ring mail, deep into the breast, piercing the first heart, the primary heart. The organ drooled blood, and let him sag, stealing the spear to spite me in his death.
The two looked at me, such a young one, and male no less, ready for a fight - and grinned. I was without arm, I was a male, and the two powerfully built females had a look that had me worried. A great mace was lifted and tapped, a silver and blue female licking her lips, tasting blood on the air. I suppressed a whine, hardly the brave creature when I had two in front of me.
Thankfully, a coward lives to save the day, as I ducked to the side and leapt the wall, leaving the crossbow in place, and began to lead them on a terrible chase through the township. I ran hard and fast, my lights giving away my position as I darted for my home den - knowing I'd have tools there, at least a shovel and ice pick if nothing more. A sharp pain cut my back thigh and made me stumble - but I was quick enough to bolt away before a mace could crush my back spine, or make me a geld. I ran like my life depended on it.
It did.
A male does not fight very often, or so the old ways went. Better to tend the farms, and to see to the young, are the males built. Gentler and softer, kind fur to please the female, and supple shape to provide no weight when in intimacy; the male is built for pleasure and joy, a gift of the Moons, a gift of the higher joys of companionship.
When the first of my people came to being, the three goddesses gave to them perfect bodies, needing no males to tend them, for they had one another. They birthed every cycle, and birthed well in the cold and snow, to daughters of their own - but could not always watch, for every female was a leader, strong, independent, and their own mistress. The young were not taught well, even in those perfect days, and many died. The sadness came and the tears caught the attention of the Three, who asked of them what troubled them.
"We have no one to guard our children." The eldest of the Nightkin spoke. "For we fight many battles, and do many works, with no time left to protect them!"
"We have no one to tend us, when we are tired!" The youngest spoke, sore from the work she did, but no one to greet her but her sisters and daughters, who were tired from their duties.
"We have no one to love us but our sisters, and we are alone." The middle said, the wisest of the three.
So the three Goddesses took council of one another, and gave long thought, that lasted three seasons of cold and heat, before they made a decision, and approached the three.
"You desire to be tended, so will grant you something humble. You will never be perfectly content, but it will be enough." The first goddess spoke, and began to shape the snow with her perfect touches.
"You desire your children guarded. They will be dutiful and patient, and greater teachers than you could ever be. We take the painless, union-less birth, for you shall know your pain, as they shall know their duty." The second goddess took from them a drop of their sacred blood, and touched it to the brow of the three figures cast of snow.
"Your hearts do desire another, that you may never know being alone, and un-cherished. We take from you half of your own, that you will forever seek them, and never know yourself truly content until you find it." Said the third, who took half of their hearts, and gave them to the snow. Under the blessings of the three, so were they given their mates, the first males made from blood, snow, and the love of their mates to be.
And so it was cast, that the gift of union-less birth was taken from the three, as were their softness and their perfection, and from these were cast the first three males, for the three sisters, whom were given their choices. Smaller and gentler, gentle with and patient with their children, loving of their mates and dutiful and humble, these three males served their mates dutifully. Never built for war, but built for love.
Love.
Love certainly wasn't chasing my skinny mustelid ass.
I rushed through the door of my domain, sweltering in the frost, and lunged up the stairway, while looking for tools, for something of use against my incoming foes. They were perhaps twenty ticks behind me, and I fidgeted, before settling my eyes upon a large sledge hammer - built for crushing ice and clearing off roofs to keep them from collapsing during the heavier weights of deeper frost, when it got really cold. I hefted it - and backed against the door - raising to bipedal stance to keep myself ready, and the hammer overhead, waiting. I hated waiting.
I spied a window and pondered climbing out and ambushing them from behind, but I glowed too bright, and I saw one coming up the stairs, giving me a chance to leap. My battle yell caught her and she threw her hands up to stop mine, making me crash atop her and dig in with my toe claws, which caught on chain, and ripped one free. I yowled in pain which fed my aggression, which made me kick harder and push down. She bit at me and I slammed my brow into her snout and heard a wet crunch. I hoped she choked on it for attacking my clan, and threatening the young!
I bit. I snapped. I chewed at her throat and twisted sharply, feeling her gurgle and tasting the rich tang of blood in my mouth. I was enjoying the slaughter of my foe, and lost track of my surroundings, which caused me no end of frustration as I was lifted and a foot caught me between my legs, making me scream in agony, worse than a torn out toe claw. The wicked bitch behind me had seen fit to attempt to castrate me - as well as grabbing my throat from behind. I was glad she hadn't caught me with claws, though my sheath bled.
"Strong male. Maybe keep you." She hissed into my ear, and then bit down, while I clawed and tried to free my throat for a chance to breath. I grabbed flesh and tore at bone, but her hands and arms were strong, and I was already lost for breath from my yelp. We twisted, I twining and kicking at her belly with a foot, the other slapping at her tail root, trying to break something. She fought and her claws dug in, pinching off my breathing. "Maybe not. Killed sisters."
I spat at her, in defiance, while my vision grew red and sparks flew behind my eyes, especially with my head being slammed into the stairway up to the loft. My hearts thundered, my body shook, and I bucked and twisted, unable to break free of her, or her digging thumbs.
I would die facing my foe, but would long to write back my letters. Funny, the only thing I could think about was sharing the music. Spittle drooled down her face as she snarled, yelled, and attempted to bite my face off. Her teeth dug into brow and chin, mouth wide, breath foul with yellowed teeth. Pain flooded me, before she grunted - in surprise, and hands went slack. So did her neck, as her head tumbled to the side, and I was rewarded with a rich lavender blood across my face. I gasped and gagged anyway, turning to gasp for breath, for air, for a chance to breath. I hurt, my head throbbed, and air had never tasted so cool or sweet.
And as my head throbbed, I slowly looked up, mouth gaped for breath, to spot the sight of my Mam staring down, axe crimson, and her body streaked with war. Beside her, Yanamah held her blade, a long iron weapon made for battle and long tested. She gazed and came near me with concern, her arms wrapping and she holding me with a look of fear. I couldn't talk, as I gasped, but held her.
"Stay here." Mam spoke. "Take care of your mate. He looks tender, but earned his keep and breeding-rites in my eyes."
"Good job, grandson." She glanced at the crushed skull of one, and the blood stains on another. I was not a pretty sight, but then again, I never was a handsome one. With that, Mam left to make war.
"Dear Kapnez,
I pray this finds you well and healthy. It has been a long, hard season, with an early raid that twelve of my city clan, but we killed a hundred of the raiders. I took down four of them myself, though it nearly made me a eunuch. The harvest went well and, because I made a grand accounting, for a male, I was given early acceptance into the tuition of the Astronomers Guild, as well as personal teaching from the great one himself. I will begin the next season as a student.
As well, I have had the chance to play the music you picked for me, and while dissonant with anything we have, I've got to admit, there is a certain charm to it. I also found your plans for your device, and after several lunars, I was able to make it work. I have left you a recording, which I hope you are listening to with health. If not, I've also enclosed a letter, so you can follow along.
Lastly, I would like to let you know I have fathered four young, healthy children with Yanamah, the female that had taught me the ways and arts of the farmer. She is proud of my virility, but I know she did all of the work. We had three healthy females, named after the goddesses Allesbra, Alsura, and Kiaminara, while the male has been named after me, though I know he'll be far better. I am proud to say that he is named Myzenoba, and is the jewel in my eye, as are my daughters the chill of my heart.
I look forward to hearing your voice, and reading more of your letters in the future.
Your friend forever, with Lunar Chill,
Myzen, Yanamah, Allesbra, Alsura, Kiaminara, and Myzenoba"