Dark Blood

Chapter 26

The early morning sunlight shone dimly into the room, a patchwork of dancing shadows filtered through the sheer tapestry hung over the balcony threshold and the boughs of the tree just beyond. The tapestry fabric was a light green, giving a tone to the room that made it seem like you were waking up wrapped in a soft, gentle leaf. Dhi'ki-de immensely enjoyed that thought; being so small and far away, protected from the ravages of nature, the relentless weight of responsibility, and the hungry eyes of those who would wish him harm. Enveloped in warmth, safe in his solitude. A deep sigh of contentment escaped him as he lay still in his bed, hands clasped on his stomach and his tresses splayed around his head like a twisted pillow of serpents. His eyes lazily roamed across the ceiling and over the walls, paying no mind to any of his belongings other than to acknowledge their existence. He reveled in these early morning hours, where nothing was quite alive yet, and it was as if he had woken up in a dream that hadn't found its ending. He preferred dreams to reality. Who in their right mind doesn't? Dreams are often much less cruel than the world we unwillingly face every day. However, dreams do not possess food. A small pang of hunger twisted in his gut, and with great reluctance, Dhi'ki-de swung his legs off the bed and pushed himself to his feet. He yawned and flared his mandibles, stretching his arms up and flexing the digits on both his hands and face until he felt the night's lingering tension unfurl like a heavy spool of fabric. He approached a large set of four drawers, two large and two smaller side by side, set against the wall. Pulling open the middle compartment, he tapped his fingers against the wooden interior as he perused his options. Hunting and training were completely out of the question for a while, so a more casual outfit would be appropriate. He selected a plain blue high-low skirt that hung above his knees in the front and a few inches below them in the back and tossed it over his shoulder onto the bed behind him. He then opened one of the smaller drawers, revealing meticulously organized accessories that included beaded necklaces and bracelets, gold and silver arm cuffs of varying designs, strings of bird and rodent skulls, pendants, woven leather bracelets, and an assortment of tress bands and dangles. Without much thought, he selected two strands of beads, one red and one blue, and a small bird skull hung by a string threaded through its eye sockets. Satisfied, he closed the compartments and dressed for the day, slipping on comfortable sandals before exiting his room.

The hall was hushed. He was used to his father calling to him from somewhere in the house, usually to ask him if he was running late for anything or if he had chosen somewhere to hunt, but there was nothing. As he descended the short flight of stairs, Dhi'ki-de hoped it was because his father had already left to do something egregiously time-consuming. He would very much like to have the time and space to himself to navigate his thoughts and try to avoid doing much of anything. He felt like he deserved a break for just one day, given that every other day going forward will probably be akin to traversing a loaded minefield. However, as he approached the dining area, he groaned and swore under his breath. He didn't have to look to know his father was sitting at the table waiting for him; he could smell the freshly brewed nak'mi, which was a drink made from a combination of leaves, roots, and dried fruit that had a stimulating effect similar to that of human coffee or tea. Ka'torag-na watched his son walk past the table, not uttering a word or making eye contact. Sighing and rolling his eyes, he brought his cup to his face but did not drink, allowing the steam to waft the pleasant, somewhat spicy fragrance into his senses. He found himself slightly jealous of his son's mildly well-rested appearance. After cleaning and fixing what he could in his stateroom, Ka'torag-na had retired to his chambers, where he had endured a painfully sleepless night. His eyes felt like rocks sunken into his skull, and his head ached from the endless hours of spinning. It was as if every thought he had was screamed into existence and ricocheted from one side of his brain to the other. Nothing he tried seemed to soothe the roaring flames that were his mind, so he eventually gave up and let it burn itself out. He could hardly move his feet once the sun finally rose, but through sheer will and two cups of nak'mi, he was in a relatively more functional state of awareness. Then he just sat patiently, waiting for Dhi'ki-de or the human to arise, whichever came first. Sighing, he finally took a sip of his drink, waiting for his new company to begrudgingly reemerge from the kitchen.