Chapter Nineteen
Kael
I watched as Daylen exited through the main room, the quiet hiss of the door following him. He had brought the midday meal, a variety of light Morrakan dishes as I’d requested, and lingered just long enough to ensure Serenya had found one she liked before taking his leave.
She was still quiet. Still processing. But she had not withdrawn from me after her father left.
That alone was a victory.
Her kethra had calmed, the amber light soft and steady beneath her skin, and I let myself feel a brief moment of peace. My plans were not in ruin yet, and I could almost let myself hope there was a chance they might turn out better than I’d expected.
She hadn’t realized she should undress yet, but I wasn’t going to push her on it. It wasn’t required while others were present, but once we were alone, she was supposed to remove her clothing.
I watched tension creeping into her shoulders as we finished the meal, betraying her discomfort before she even looked at me. She had agreed to stay, but that didn’t mean she was ready to disrobe, and I did not want her associating our home with pressure.
Not if I could help it.
Decision made, I stood, letting my tail curl and then go still behind me as I held out a hand.
“Let’s explore.”
Serenya blinked up at me, the pulse of her kethra quickening. She didn’t know the speed displayed which emotion made them brighten, but it was something she’d learn in time.
“What? Where?”
“The surface. The sun will begin its descent soon, but we have enough light that if we move quickly, I can show you the necessities before we must return below.”
She hesitated before reaching out and placing her hand in mine.
The little touches and the way we’d awakened together had me eager to explore more of her, but that would come in time. I hadn’t missed the sweet musk of her slick, or the way she’d been soft and pliant beneath me despite my stiff vorran prodding her.
I didn’t need the sharp notes in her scent to know she was just as anxious as she was curious. I hoped she would grow to be comfortable in Korvashan, but it was natural to be cautious in a new place, and she was smart enough to know there were dangers here she wasn’t prepared for.
I had to reduce those.
Her safety was my responsibility, but I couldn’t be with her every moment. She would want independence, and while I could never hope she’d be able to stand up to a Morraki who was trained to fight from the moment they walked, I could remove other dangers of being on Morrakan.
“Why can you only be on the surface during the day? I heard you mention something about not being able to make the descent from the Zeydrassk after night as well.”
It was an important question, and she was smart to have picked up on that.
“You remember the vratak?”
I had to search for the Common term when her brow creased.
“Wind?”
She nodded as we left our home and I pulled her in the direction we needed to go.
“That is what it is like during the drazh. When vorrash takes over, the plants on the surface close. With less to slow it, the vratak increases, and even the strongest struggle to withstand it.”
She nodded in understanding as we emerged from the same arch we’d entered the previous day. The wind on the surface was dry and hot, but it wasn’t unbearable. Out of direct light, the temperature shouldn’t be too much for a Human.
“Drah-z being… day? So vor-ash would be night?”
I smiled at her effort.
“Yes, drazh can be sun-up to sundown, but also one sunrise to the next. Vorrash is night, while vorresh is… opposite of light.”
She repeated the words to herself, and I had to resist the urge to chuckle.
I had brought her a thavren, made with sand-resistant oils and woven from hollow fiber to be cool despite the heat. Showing it to her, I explained what it was before wrapping it around her head and shoulders, shielding her soft flesh from the sun and wind.
“The thavren is the most important survival tool that you must always have if you are to be on the surface for more than a few shyret. It is worn to protect the flesh from the sun and wind as well as the sand. It can also be used to filter water or create a shelter.”
I tucked the ends and adjusted the lay of the folds. Learning to wrap one correctly would take time, but that was something she could learn later.
Wrapped in the thavren, she could almost pass as Morraki, if not for the shape of her pupils and her diminutive height. At least from the front. The lack of a tail would give away her alienness if anyone noticed, but one day, if the alliance continued, it would become a common sight in Korvashan.
I wrapped my own thavren around my head, showing her how to cover and uncover her mouth and nose. Once I was certain she would be safe from the wind and the sand it carried, I took her hand and led her away from the structures surrounding us.
“The Morrak came from underground. There are markings in some of the deep caves that go back hundreds of thousands of korrath, but Korvashan is only seven thousand. It was our first home near the surface and remains our largest settlement. We have adapted, but the surface is not where we are most comfortable, so it is generally used for punishment and things that we cannot do in the caverns below.”
She met my eyes when I glanced down at her.
“If korrath is year, we barely have evidence Humans were alive that long ago.”
I let the corner of my lips lift before correcting her.
“Nyrel did the math once. He says a korrath is more than one and a half of your years. Morrakan moves slower around Vorrashan than Earth around her Sun.”
I slowed our steps and pulled her to my side. Eyes wide as she took in the deep rust of the sand and the way the sun caught the edges of the canyon, she gazed down into the ravine that housed Korvashan.
“It’s beautiful.”
Outside, away from prying eyes, I relaxed my control and let my tail flick in pleasure.
“But deadly.”
She looked around before nodding. I could see her processing. Her mind never seemed to stop moving.
I led her a short distance across the flat rock path toward a raised outcrop where a hollowed basin had been carved by generations of wind. In the center stood the three stones of the Morraki survival ritual, surrounded by plants with thick, pink petals covered in small yellow spines.
“Before a Morraki is allowed to leave Korvashan alone, they must complete three rites. The Zhal'venn, the Orveth, and the Dra’thar.”
She blinked, then smiled faintly.
“Are you going to make me guess what those mean?”
I tipped my head, looking down at her.
“Only if you want to get them wrong.”
She huffed a laugh and I smiled.
I pointed to the first stone, carved with the downward spiral of the windfall glyph.
“Zhal'venn. The heat-break. It teaches how to find shelter. To listen to the rhythm of the wind and know when the sands will turn against you.”
I pointed to the next. It had a basin on its top, worn smooth by the steady scrape of sand in the wind.
“Orveth. The water rite. You must learn how to find it, carry it, and conserve it. And when not to share.”
I had a feeling that last part would be hard for Serenya. She was the type to put herself last, and she’d share her water even knowing it would mean her death.
“And then Dra'thar. It means… communion. Not the same as prayer, or worship. A… connection, a moment to feel the wind, the land, and your place within it. We are shaped by our environment, and we survive by remembering we are part of it, not masters of it.”
Serenya turned in a slow circle, her eyes taking in the sweeping dunes and ridgelines around us.
“And you brought me up here to teach me this?”
She was curious, and this was important to understand, but that hadn’t been the real goal. I decided to be truthful.
“No, I brought you here to give you more time. But, if you wish to learn the rites, I will teach you.”
It was harder to see in the sun and under the layers covering her, but her kethra grew brighter even as she huffed again.
“I want to learn. If everyone else living here has to go through it, I should too.”
The wind kicked up, swirling sand around her legs. I was glad she wanted to learn, but the rites took time, even for someone raised here.
“Then we begin, but the necessities of survival come first.”
We spent the rest of the drazh on the surface.
I taught her how to test the sands and align herself with the grooves in the rock beneath to avoid being buried during a shift in the dunes.
I showed her how we marked wells that held drinking water, and what signs meant the water was bad.
Then I made her fold her thavren over her face over and over until her hands got it right.
When Vorrashan touched the horizon, she was tired and flushed, but smiling.
I led her back through the arch to the High Ledge but didn’t head towards home. Holding her hand, I pulled her down the path through the next two levels to the River Caverns below Korvashan.
It was the end of the day and there were many Morraki in the communal pools, but I pulled her through the moist air to a small pool that was reserved for those of the Draevahn line.
With no siblings and no children, I was one of the few in Korvashan who were permitted to use it.
It was shielded by tall pillars of dark stone, lit only by bioluminescent moss along the rim, and private in a way the larger pools were not.
Serenya had remained silent through the main areas, but her tension had eased at the sight of the empty pocket of water.
“Bathing is part of survival. You do not wear the sands back into your meyr’kal.”
She hesitated, watching the steam rise from the pool. The scent of minerals hung in the air, masking many of the other smells, although I could pick up her fruity signature.
“And all of these pools are public?”
She kept herself turned away from me, but I didn’t need to see the worry on her face.