Kanushin (Starweaver's Tapestry #1)

Chapter 2: Heads

A soft breeze drifted across the rooftop and tousled Diah Nollak's hair. As she sighed and began to smooth it back out, she thought about how much she hated living on Vensha. The humidity always made her sensitive purple hair frizz, the tourists never stopped coming and the crimson moon that hung in the sky bothered her immensely.

As she ran her hair behind a pointed ear, Diah leaned on the roof's edge and looked out across the ornate gleaming architecture of Liotik. The Chyl's capital city was a wonder to all those who visited its golden-capped roofs and pearlescent enclosures, but Diah couldn't help but see it as a gaudy reminder of their aristocratic roots.

Her hand moved from the hair behind her ear to the glistening specks that adorned her bubblegum skin. Chyl based everything they had on appearances. As a species, they were always complimented for the marks that embellished their colorful skin and twinkled like stars on a bright summer's eve. In Diah's eyes, they were all beautiful. To the rest of her people, however, they were a means of control.

At some point in the Chyl's long history, someone decided that the intricacies of one's pattern correlated directly to how pure they were. This gave rise to the High Marks and the Low Marks, a system of social stratification that drove everything the Chyl did from housing to job opportunities to marriage. The idea of it all made Diah sick to her stomach.

She shook her head to clear her mind then stared out at the ships passing by. She thought about the many times she tried to stow away only to be caught. No matter where she hid or how far she ran, her mother always found her.

"You know better than to come up here," the quiet, honeyed voice stated from behind her, as if on cue. "It isn't becoming for a Nollak to daydream aimlessly."

"Yes, Mother," Diah responded coldly as she stood straight and turned to face the bane of her existence.

Wyrna stood on the other end of the rooftop, arms crossed and brow furrowed. Her tangerine robe complimented the dandelion yellow of her skin and her gaze was enough to chill even the strongest of wills. Though smaller in frame, something about Wyrna exhumed a toxic and dominant air.

"Counselor Gallard will be arriving at the capitol soon and I expect us both to be standing on the docking pad when he does," Wyrna stated. Her left hand creased the flowing sleeve draping from her right. "You will remain absolutely silent this time, understood?"

Diah nodded slightly, her spirits lifted at the sound of Gallard's name. They had been friends since she was barely able to walk but he was a busy politician. His rare visits were always a dose of sun in her otherwise stormy life.

———

The chrome transport bulleted through the Venshan atmosphere before slowing into a full-turn maneuver. Flecks of light danced across its surface as the shuttle's landing gears clanked out from the sides.

Diah stood silently behind Wyrna, eyes locked on to the transport. The door lowered with a whir as Gallard and his associates made their exit, his light green skin and warm grey eyes invoking a sense of relief in her. Diah allowed herself to breathe a little in her mother's presence and tried her hardest to fight a smile from creeping across her face.

Gallard approached them, his white robes flowing in the gust of three more transports landing.

"My friends," He exclaimed with arms outstretched. "What an absolute delight to be back in your company!"

Wyrna cocked a crooked smirk.

"You've been dearly missed, as always, Gallard. The more time you spend with the High Prime, the less time you spend with us."