FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Every fall, everyone became a local to Split Path. From the edge of the ocean to those just outside of the capital, traders and travellers descended upon the village to celebrate all that came along with the time of year: harvests from the field, the shortening of the days and the return of the herds to the kingdom. It was a time of plenty and celebration.

And like every year, Fiona waited impatiently for when she was allowed to leave the shop. They didn’t travel, as the Shannons sold to the those visiting out of their home. Her father attempted to make whimsical things, but his rough hands were only good for the practical, like cookware and tools. He had twisted some old horseshoes and scraps into puzzles that you could take apart; Fiona wasn’t sure if there really was a solution besides having strong arms. They were still intriguing enough that they were able to make a good profit and close up shop early each year.

She stood next to her father at the counter of the shop. She smiled and answered the questions of the visitors. Someone might remember and place an order at some point in the future; more repeat customers could always be used. She gawked as a tzigane walked up to the counter. They crouched to get their head under the awning.

“Do you sell fish hooks?” The voice was creaky and their beak didn’t move as much as it should.

Her father tried explaining what he offered, though his discomfort was visible. Tziganes only came to town during festivals, living on the coast and catching the various slimey, wriggly things with their beaks and talons. Being long descended from both phoenixes and humans meant they unsettled all but their own kind.

Her father tapped her on the shoulder. Anxiety started to gnaw at her stomach. She knew what would come next.

“Do you know where Kayma is?”

In the back of her mind she knew the answer, but she still shook her head no. Her father grumbled something, glaring out at the crowds.

“We’ll need her back soon. Go find her your sister.”

Fiona nodded and slipped out the door. She knew the places that she would check, but wasn’t sure how many she would visit tonight. There was no joy in smelling the fresh apple fritters, in hearing stories told by travellers, in recognizing faces from festivals past. That was the problem with dreams that came back to haunt you: you always know the ending and can’t enjoy the rest.

Her feet lead her through the town, through the branching streets that was its namesake. She passed the larger buildings and out into the more open lands surrounding the village. Dread filled her as she realized what would soon come next.

There were the older kids, passing around a bottle of something pilfered earlier in the night. Words stumbled out of her mouth, asking where Kayma was. They laughed and jabbed at each other. Their voices were still that of children but but murky, the details blurring together with so many recollections. One of them gestured at the barn. The faces were blurred. Were they even there the first time?

Her legs moved Fiona once more, carrying her to the barn door. She grabbed at the handle, and slid the door aside. She wanted to squirm and scream and scratch and do anything else than see what’s inside, but her body moved on its own. She was stuck on this path and had to see it through. The door slid all the way, knocking as the casters hit the end of the track.

She waited for her father to grab her from behind, for the yelling and fighting and…

Nothing happened. The world stood still like a held breath and then it fell apart. A solid black like a starless night spread out from the ground and expanded like oil until it concealed everything, swallowing the barn and its dark insides and the boys and her father. It was cold; her breath frosted in front of her like it was winter. She could see her hands even though there was no visible light source.

And now she was not afraid.

“I had that dream again,” she stated. Arms enveloped her and she relaxed in His embrace.

He had been in her dreams for a number of years now. She couldn’t remember when it first started, but He always showed up when she was worried or afraid. She didn’t like the phrase an imaginary friend, but it’s what he was. He was only in dreams when she felt the need for him. Plus, He talked back without her thinking of the lines first.

“You still miss her,” He said. His chest was pressed against her back as they sat on the floor, the only warm thing in the dreamscape.

She sighed. “I didn’t think my father would just get rid of her like that.” She leaned back into Him. “I knew he was strict but I didn’t think that he’d kick her out for….” She thought of how to word it, but He spoke first.

“She was with someone before she was married.” He stated it so matter of fact, like it was something that happened every day.

Fiona took a moment to turn it over in her mind. Kayma mustn’t have been the only person to have done this, but had they received the same punishment? Where did she go? They didn’t have any other family and she had no interest in the family craft. The knot was forming in her stomach again.

“Do you think she’s okay?” She wasn’t sure how he would know, how anyone would know, but she still felt the need to ask and receive some sort of comfort.

“You know how smart Kayma is. She would find a way to do better than she ever had before.” He gave her a squeeze as if to show that it was all okay.

“It’s stupid that there’s rules like this.” She turned around to look at Him. His skin was bronze, as if He could be in the sun all day without getting burned. He was older than her, but not as old as her father, but not so old that he should have his hair be pure white like it was. But flying dogs don’t exist and she knew kids with such an imaginary friend before. She knew not to question Him by now.

“Your father was just doing what he thought was right. His father taught him what was right, as did his father before him.”

She huffed. “Things are different know. Even you know that.”

He nodded. “The World has changed, but society hasn’t.”

“Thanks to the phoenixes.”

“It’s hard for things to change when you have the same king for so long.”

“I bet the King never has to go hungry,” Fiona grumbled. She couldn’t feel it now, but she knew she’d be ravenous when she woke up. She would eat well again once they made a good sale, but there was no way to know when that would be.

“He’s never had to suffer, it’s not a king’s job to.” He sighed. “I’m sure one day things will change for the better.”

They talked more after that, but she couldn’t really recall what. Fiona awoke from the noise of her parents moving around downstairs and the gnawing in her stomach.