Ki-yu, the little huntress.
Date [standardised human time]: November 14th, 2119
(16 years, 9 months, 20 days before the invasion of the radji Cradle).
Ki-yu tried to ignore the crackle of the radio that clattered against the cavern. It was a big day, and she just wanted to lay in bed forever. So long as I don’t open my eyes the day won’t start, and everything will be okay.
A few weeks ago, the family had come home nervous and exhausted. Her parents had tried to seem like their normal, relaxed selves, but Ki-yu could smell their acrid anxiety. There was an itching beneath her scales, and she feverously tried to ignore it. If I don’t scratch the day won’t start, and everything will be okay.
This woman, Rylett, would teach her they explained. Talk to her. They would need a new computer, one they could set up securely. They would take every precaution they could, leave no trail for anyone to follow. For the signal to be strongest, it made sense for the computer to be installed near the transceiver. In this case, both the mountain and her den were in the ideal position. Ki-yu did not understand why they would go to such lengths, and why they valued education so much. Were they not enough?
“If we’re smart about this, this will all be alright,” Baba said. “This could actually be a good thing.” But Ki-yu doubted that. Everything smells, the hunter in her whispered. Everything leaves a trail to be followed if you look closely enough. Speaking to Yotun had been a serious mistake, she knew that now. Too dangerous. Can’t talk. Better to stay hidden.
A rapping on the door signalled their arrival, and Ki-yu buried her head into her bedding. Why won’t they leave me alone?! If I don’t get up everything will be okay! She heard the latch give and the door slide up, footfalls slapping against the cool rock floor.
“Ki-yu?” Baba’s voice called out, tiny pattering footsteps following his voice into her den. A moment later a weight pressed down on the bed, miniature paws patting against her back.
“Are you sleepy, Ku?” her brother ventured. She grumbled into her cushions, trying to block them all out. Light bright and warm poured into the cavern as Baba slid open the exterior wall. It was golden and blinding, and she longed to remain in her blessed darkness. Lit by the morning light, Mama knelt down beside them, rubbing a paw along Imdi’s spines.
“Go help Baba,” she told him. Imdi looked between them, before clumsily patting her paws and toddling off to bother his father. Her mother looked down on her.
“C’mon,” she said primly, “I need your help with something.” Before she could protest, Mama had turned away and was out the door.
Ki-yu stumbled to her feet, heavily forcing herself out into the world. Moping, she joined her mother, trying not to blink at the blinding daylight. They started down the hill, Mama glancing at the girl loping lazily beside her. The morning had a chill to it, but they warmed as they walked. Thin wispy clouds hung suspended on the mountains, giving the granite white quiffs that slowly rolled along the sky. The ground held a musty note, clearly it had rained.
“How’ve you been?” she asked Ki-yu. “You’ve been away for a while.”
“Okay,” she lied. “I’ve been exploring.” That was a lie too.
“Have you eaten anything recently?” the radji asked her. “You look thin.” Ki-yu sniffed pointedly, pouting as she looked away.
“I’m fine.”
“If you can’t feed yourself…” That stung her pride.
“I can hunt!” she barked, stopping short as she surprised herself. But instead of reprimanding her, Mama grinned.
“Then catch me!” she said, playfully bopping her on the snout. “Hide and sneak, tag!” And with that the woman started running as fast as she could into the trees. She stood dumbfounded as Mama giggled like a girl, and whilst her anxiety lingered, peaking through a thin point in her mind, Ki-yu felt her legs begin to move. She sprung after her, sticks and stones splintering and sliding under foot. Mama was not holding back either, she was sprinting. She must know I’ll catch her, why run?
But Ki-yu found it did not matter. It was a chase like no other. Even when she had stalked after Imdi, she had always felt like she was running after him. It was a pursuit, no doubt. But this, this was different. She was not running after her mother, but to her. Not to catch or to track, but to seek, and to find. Delight flashed in her mother’s eyes as she ran. As they ran. The mossy ground thundered beneath her feet, her tail whipping behind her to give her balance. She veered off, cutting around Mama to leap at her. But Mama saw the move coming, ducking under her pounce with an alarmed shout. But the dodge made her slip, falling onto her rump. Ki-yu scrambled to her feet again, coming at her with her hands up.
“Say it,” she growled as she put her hands on Mama’s shoulders. Turin rolled her lips, looking at her impishly. Her mother gasped as she went for her furred stomach.
“Say it!” Ki-yu barked as she tickled her, the radji squirming and cackling beneath her fingers.
“You got me!” she wheezed. “You got me, okay?!” The cackling did not stop when Ki-yu pulled back. The woman sat up against a tree, the girl snickering as she fell to her haunches heavily beside her. It was a wonderful kind of laughter, the kind that ebbed and flowed, where more often than not you were laughing at the joy itself.
“You… really dragged us… out here… for hide and sneak?” Ki-yu said at last.
“I was once a kid too, you know?” the woman muttered, wiping at her tears. Ki-yu shook her head.
“No, you weren’t, you’ve always been old.” The pyq chirruped as Mama pushed her gently over. “So… what now?” the girl said, brushing herself off as she stood.
“Well…I wanted to… see if we could find some kuru nests,” she panted back. “But also… you were looking nervous,” she said, glancing at her side-eye. “I thought you might want to stretch your legs. We’ve still got some time… want to find some?” Ki-yu offered her a paw up.
Their chase had led them partway toward the retan groves Ki-yu noticed, no doubt as Mama had intended. Ki-yu often reflected on how lucky she was to have such loving and capable parents, but she had not thought about how much effort must go into parenting.
“Thank you, Mama,” she said as they walked. “For making me laugh.”
“There’s always something to laugh at, Ki-yu, even at the worst of times.” Her mother regarded her for a moment. “Look, I know how you get whenever you’re worried about something, and hunting is the last thing you want to think about. But we need to know you’re eating okay.”
“I know, Mama,” she mumbled, looking down at her dark paws.
“Promise me you’ll go eat something after your lesson. Something big if you can.” Ki-yu nodded begrudgingly, even if neither the prospect of eating nor this new teaching was particularly appealing. I am hungry.
“Oh!” Mama gasped, pointing to a flash of white as it flittered across a patch of blue. The kuru gripped onto a branch as it landed, using a stubby fold of its fuzzy wings and its short legs to waddle up to its nest, wherein it deposited a small cache of moss. Kuru had a distinct warbling call, started by one individual, and finished by another. The predator closed her eyes, listening to the calls, tasting the air. She felt Mama kneel down next to her.
“Ki-yu,” Mama whispered, “so far, we’ve solved every problem by hiding you away. I don’t want you to be on the run forever. You need to know people, and they you. These lessons are that first step, but if it's too much you can stop whenever you feel like it. We won’t be upset or disappointed. This is about you learning things, not being forced into them.” Ki-yu felt her paw moving along her wide cheeks and opened her eyes. “What you’ve taught us here is profound. It is a revolutionary shift in our understanding of the pyq, of all predators. Of what it means to be sapient. You are an exceptional girl. You are predatory, but also kind and generous, empathic to a fault.” A few titters were carried through the leaves. “But still just my little girl.”
“But… they don’t see that,” she muttered back. ‘Say it!’ he yells into the night. “It’s just… what if she figures it out?”
“I think the potential benefit outweighs the risk. We can only teach you so much, and you deserve better than us.”
“There is no one better than you, Mama.” The radji sniffed, covering a keen with a half-laugh.
“You stop that!” she said, setting them both giggling again. Mama kissed Ki-yu’s forehead, patting her fondly. “I know this all scares you. To be honest, it scares the hell out of all of us. But do you think that you will at least try?” Ki-yu felt her lip wobble, but she nodded.
“I’ll try.”
“Thank you,” Mama whispered to her, pulling her close. “It’s all I ask.”
They managed to find five more nests before they returned, by which time Baba had finished installing the computer. He had set up a small table near some cushions on the southern wall, where he and Imdi were sat. Whilst they probably could have made use of a tablet, they also wanted to link in the camera feeds so Ki-yu could monitor the Brackwood at her leisure. The device was so small for something so powerful, mostly consisting of the large screen.
“Feeling better?” he asked as she curled up on a cushion next to them, Mama patting her partner on the shoulder.
“I guess,” Ki-yu mumbled.
“I thought you’d be more excited to talk to someone new,” he whispered to his daughter.
“I… I am,” she told him, glancing back at Mama. “I guess I’m just nervous.” She looked up at her Baba beneath her brows. “Do you trust her?” Baba looked at the inactive screen, as though he could somehow see Rylett through the black mirror.
“I think she believes in what she does… and I trust her to teach you well. But she is a curious woman. Clever.” He chuckled dryly. “Pressed you out of us quickly enough. It is wise to be cautious.”
Ki-yu felt a well reopen in her stomach: hunger and fear.
“We can stay with you if you want,” Mama told her, but Ki-yu shook her head.
“No. Imdi went to school alone, so will I.”
“Are you sure?” Baba asked, his paw on her back. Ki-yu nodded up at him, trying to put on a brave face.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s show you the basics.”
Learning to type was a slow process, the layout of the keys feeling unfamiliar and uncomfortable against her claws. The interface was relatively straightforward, messages typed into a chat bar.
They also had given her a list of topics to avoid, things she was not to say under any circumstances. What she ate, her physical appearance, how she was adopted. The words, ‘The fact that you’re a pyq,’ had been circled in red marker. It was so obvious it made her laugh. They left her at her insistence, and with the promise that she would join them once she was done. Ki-yu regretted them leaving the instant they were out of the door, as it left her alone with this new machine. I’ve got to try. She sat on her new cushions and tried to distract herself with reading.
When the designated hour rolled around, and Ki-yu held her breath for the first minute. She was considering if she should send a message or not when a chime made her bark with fright.
//Session started [*********.*;CLSD43657.0]
//Users: (R);(K)
R{Hello Ki-yu.}
She sat looking at the message for an eternity. I can back out if I want, right? The girl picked up her radio, thumbing the signal for a second.
“Eco three?” Mama’s voice buzzed after a moment. “Everything alright?” I’m out of bed…
Ki-yu swallowed.
“Eco three, here. We’re starting. Over and out.”
Carefully, Ki-yu typed out a word and reached out.
K{Hello.} A few moments later, another ping.
R{I’m Rylett. Have your parents explained who I am?}
K{You’re a teacher, you’re going to teach me things.}
R{Pretty much, yes!}
{Normally we would follow a standard curriculum, (that’s like a plan) but given that you’ve had no formal education, I think it best to start out freeform, and see what you know.}
K{Sorry, still getting used to typing, what does that mean?}
R{It just means this will be like a regular conversation, okay?}
K{Okay.}
R{Is this your first time typing?}
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K{Yes. Sorry if I’m slow.}
R{Don’t be, you’re doing very well!}
{Tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?} This took Ki-yu a while to answer, as she was constantly policing herself for any spelling mistakes or slips that could suggest her nature.
K{I like lots of things. I like reading, and drawing. I often sketch things I find in the forest.}
R{Do you often go out into the forest?}
K{Yes! I like exploring a lot.}
{There are lots of interesting animals and plants to look at. I really like leaves, their colour, their smell. Even how they crunch and crumple.} Ki-yu had found that there was something olfactory that escaped radji and had to stop herself from being too detailed with the smells.
K{Can I ask you something?}
R{Of course!}
K{What’s it like being a teacher?}
R{Difficult, but also rewarding.}
{I meet a lot of interesting people, helping children like yourself learn and grow. I look after the classroom, grade homework, and tend to the library.}
K{What’s a library?}
R{It’s a big collection of books. The school library probably only has several hundred books, but that’s still a lot of work.} That’s more books than I’ve ever read! All that knowledge almost made Ki-yu salivate.
K{Wow, I didn’t know that was a job!}
{Mama said you’re also a Priest. What’s that like?}
R{I spend my time more as a teacher than a priest, although there is much overlap.}
{Both provide guidance, although a priesthood is spiritual where a teacher is educational. I spend a lot of time stuck inside preparing sermons, studying old tomes, attending to long events in the calendar.}
K{Sounds boring.} A moment later Ki-yu panicked, re-reading what she had sent.
{Wait! Was that rude?!}
R{Aha! Maybe a little.}
{But it is boring, I much prefer teaching.}
{Speaking of which, we should probably try out some general cultural questions.}
The conversation became more of a back and forth, with questions both mundane and interesting. Most of it was rudimentary: can you count to ten, what colour is the sky, who were the radji, what was the Confederate Alliance. The question, ‘describe a person’, had taken her slightly longer than it should have, she thought, eventually answering, ‘Something that thinks, knows what it knows, can work with others, and is able to grow.’
Ki-yu worried that her answers were a bit too revealing. She only knew so much outside of the Brackwood, and her memory of Bendara was fleeting at best. When Rylett asked what the capital of the Cradle was, or where it was in relation to Bendara she kicked herself for not investigating further. There was so much about the wider world that was simply a mystery to her. Were all places like Bendara, a monolith of metal surrounded by rolling plains of crops and orchards? Her parents told her that the forest was special, a hidden thing, old and precious, but surely it could not be the only one? And what of the people, were they all so broken like Yotun? Or curious like Rylett? Or loving, like my family?
She was almost relieved when the topic of faith re-emerged, even if it was dangerous ground. She knew who Kay-ut was, her children and the Protector.
K{Kay-ut was the first thing, who made balance in the world by having three children.}
R{Can you name them?}
K{Ra-ji was the youngest, meant to balance out her siblings. The eldest was Ki-ra, wisest of the three.}
R{And the middle-child, the brother?}
K{Ki-yu, the trickster. He was cast out, hence the need for the Protector.}
R{How do you feel about that?}
K{About what?}
R{The name.}
{Your parents named you after him.}
K{I’m not named after him. My name is a promise.}
{My parents have explained the reasoning, and I respect why they called me that. I also understand why that name might be offensive to you.}
{But my oldest memory is of my father and I sitting beneath the moon. I would not change that.} There was a long pause before she replied.
R{I understand. Thank you, Ki-yu.}
{We’re almost out of time, but I think I’ve got an idea for some homework.} Ki-yu looked at the clock on the screen, gobsmacked to see that three hours had passed.
{How about you write a few short paragraphs about that memory, or other important memories, and what it means to you.}
K{Okay, I can do that. When do you want it by?}
R{No rush. Shall we say next week?}
K{Okay. Thank you, Priestess. I really enjoyed our talk.}
R{As did I, Ki-yu. See you soon.}
~*~
“None in this one,” Ki-yu called down, her nails digging into the ivory bark. At the base of the tree below Mama scribbled into her notebook. They had a few items on the agenda today, including checking on the kuru nests. During winter this landscape would be painted a pale white, and the alabaster wood of the retan trees would litter the hillside like scattered bones. But for now, their leaves were still a bright green, shapely and lush and full of life. Her claws left little green grazes in the wood as she clambered back down.
“Careful how much you scratch these ones, Ki-yu,” her mother murmured gently. “Trees are living things too, you know. We can always afford to tread more lightly.” The girl looked up as the trail of her passing.
“Sorry,” she whispered to the tranquil topiary. A few leaves shuffled in the breeze. Smirking, Mama tussled her head.
“C’mon, just one more.” The sun’s long fingers stroked them as the pair walked through the ghostly grove, Ki-yu a shadow slinking along at her mother’s side. “Did you get something to eat yesterday?” her mother asked. She nodded.
“There was a vyrryn foal. He was lost, wouldn’t have lasted much longer.” Mama looked at her strangely, pride, relief, and disgust meandering across her face. “I made it quick…” Ki-yu mumbled.
“I know you would, but… how’d it make you feel?” The bleating noise had rung through the trees, and she waited for hours to make sure the parents were not coming to save it. Waited, and waited, and the bleating went on and on and on, until I could no longer stand it.
“A part of me… wants it to get easier, every kill I mean. To get better at it, so I hurt less. But another part of me doesn’t want that. I want to feel responsible… I don’t want it to be easy.” She stood up to be closer to Mama’s eye level. “Does that… make sense to you?”
“I suppose.” Something conflicted still rested on her face.
“This must be really scary, I’m sorry, I’ll stop–” Her mother’s paw came down on her shoulder.
“Ki-yu, you don’t scare me.”
“But… it bothers you?”
“No… not really.” They came to a stop beneath the last nest. “I just wonder…” She paused trying to find the right words. “I suppose if I were you, I’d do the same thing. It’s just… radji don’t have to think about those kinds of dilemma. Some part of us may never understand it, sweetheart.”
Ki-yu nodded glumly. Yet another difference, she thought. Mama flipped open her tablet.
“Hey when was your next lesson?”
“Shit!” Ki-yu said, spinning on her heels.
“Go on then!” Mama barked, Ki-yu bolting back uphill. “Attagirl!”
Ki-yu was panting hard as she ran back into the den, flicking on the computer immediately. The session had started when she joined.
//Session started [*********.*;CLSD43657.0]
//Users: (R);(K)
R{How are you today?}
K{Good, thanks. Sorry I’m late! Mama needed help finding some of the nests.} she typed hastily.
R{It’s okay, it was only a few minutes.}
{What kind of nests?}
K{Kuru. They’re little white feathery things common in our mountains.}
R{Kuru? I thought they were quite rare.}
K{They are. But they like to nest in the retan trees, and they only grow in a few spots. Their eggs are bright pink, but they nest right at the top of the trees.}
R{That’s very interesting, could you ask Turin for some photos?}
K{Sure. It’s kind of tricky to get a camera up a tree, but we can do it.}
R{Wait, are you climbing the trees?}
K{Well, yeah.}
{I’m a good climber.}
{I’m very careful.}
R{I’m sure, but perhaps a drone would be safer.} Ki-yu scribbled down a note to ask Baba about drones. {This seems like a good time to start on the sciences.}
This was much more her topic. Rylett was impressed by all the animals she could name, but even more so when she described photosynthesis, even if some of the big words escaped her. But it was the topic of astronomy that captured her imagination. A lot of work went into making a spaceship, into making such a craft not just work, but be safe. Even something as simple as keeping the ground beneath your feet, was no longer easy.
R{Well when you’re not near something big, like a planet, you won’t feel any gravity and you float.} That boggled her mind. It made perfect sense, but it was totally outlandish.
K{Have you been to space?}
R{I have. I spent three years working on a colony world.}
K{Really?! What did you do?}
R{Construction, mostly. I moved with my husband; he was an agriculturalist.}
{I had a son. He was very inquisitive, like you.}
K{I didn’t know you had a family.}
R{I don’t. I lost them.} Lost them? Oh! Ki-yu was so ashamed she slunk away from the computer, hiding beneath the covers of her bed. Stupid! It was only when a ping announced a new message that she shuffled back.
R{Ki-yu? Are you alright?} She forced herself to type, at least to apologise.
K{I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.}
R{It’s quite alright.}
{We all have a history. Some parts are prettier than others.}
{Can I ask you a personal question?}
K{Okay.} She owed her that, Ki-yu supposed.
R{Your parents said you’ve had a hard time talking to others.}
{How does that make you feel?}
K{It’s complicated. I guess it’s just safer to stay away.}
R{Why?}
K{I don’t mean to scare–} Ki-yu stopped herself, correcting her verbiage before sending. {I don’t mean to upset them.}
R{You shouldn’t have to change yourself on their behalf.}
K{It’s okay.}
{It’s not their fault.}
{It wouldn’t be your fault either.}
R{You wouldn’t upset me. I’m sure I’ve seen worse than a little girl.}
{As far as I can tell there’s nothing wrong with you, Ki-yu.} The words were a sweet nectar, warmer and softer than any blanket. She blinked at her wet eyes, snuffling.
K{Thank you, Rylett.}
{For the record, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you either.}
R{Aha. Thanks?} Ki-yu giggled at the message. She felt glad to have gotten out of bed.
~*~
The terroc tiles clattered across the table, the family leaning forward to see where they lay. Ki-yu looked at her deck, deciding which to keep and which to discard. Two moons, a hooded man, and a chain… I should keep the moons, but Baba’s been picking up the chains… Opposite, Mama shuffled her deck, a risky gambit; she would have to wait for the next move. A hooded man clattered to the board before them, and Ki-yu overturned a hidden tile. A flower…
“Mama mentioned the kuru to you?” Ki-yu asked, trying to distract them with idle conversation. Baba traded a tree for a bonfire, the tiles clicking into his stand.
“Mhmm,” he murmured as the turn passed to Imdi. Her brother seemed to be having a harder time of it; Ki-yu had noticed him trading out several different kinds of tiles. “It’s worth trying to build up the population sooner than later. Winter will be here sooner than later.”
“How many are there?” Ki-yu asked. Baba shrugged.
“Hard to say. They only raise a few chicks, and don’t have a high survival rate anyway.”
“Counting eggs at least gives us some idea, even if we won’t find all the nests,” Mama commented. “Four or five per nest, a couple hundred eggs total I’d wager, so… what? Twenty, maybe thirty breeding pairs.” She shook her head. “It’s barely better than guesswork.”
“Rylett mentioned something about that,” Ki-yu said. “Something about a ‘drone’, said that might be safer than me climbing around the trees.”
“A drone’s a robot you can fly about, it’s useful for reconnaissance.”
“I don’t think we can afford that kind of drone after what we’ve just spent on the computer,” Baba grumbled, flipping the tiles to start a new round. Mama tilted her head.
“It would cover more ground,” she said contemplatively, making Baba guffaw.
“I want to meet her,” Ki-yu announced suddenly. Baba faltered for a moment before flipping the next tile. He smiled tightly at her, before quickly looking back to his deck. Mama stood, heading for the kitchen to check on dinner. Something about their demeanour caused an itch beneath her skin.
“You said this was about me getting to know people,” Ki-yu called after her. “Wasn’t that the whole point of it all?” Her mother rolled her eyes.
“Two days ago, I had to drag you out of bed to even consider talking to her.”
“I know, I know…” she whined.
“It’s too soon,” Baba said gently, patting her paw.
“Someday,” Mama said returning to her seat. Primly, she plucked up a tile and set it into her deck.
“Aha!” Mama cheered, tipping her mosaic of trees and flowers forward. “Terroc!”
“Aw!” Imdi sagged. “I was almost there!”
“Where’d that come from?!” Baba groaned.
“I guess I couldn’t see it from where I was sitting.”
“Best of three?” Ki-yu asked, flicking her brother with her tail. The boy giggled.
Mama was just collecting her winnings when the proximity alarm sounded. A few moments of shock gave way to hectic motion. Ki-yu scrambled about trying to clear up any sign of her presence or movements, but fortunately only finding Spike. In one fluid motion Baba picked up the Terroc case and hastily scraped all the pieces into the box, whilst Mama flicked through the surveillance cameras.
“Hovercar!” she called out over her shoulder. “No more than two minutes.”
Baba followed Ki-yu down the hallway, sealing the door to the backroom once she was inside. The girl waited until his footsteps had fallen away before she slid her door open a crack, listening keenly. Faintly she heard the slam of a car door, and a few moments later muffled voices.
“–weren’t expecting you so soon,” Baba said as he entered the lodge.
“I apologise for arriving unannounced,” a new voice spoke, accompanied by the approach of footsteps. From her position Ki-yu could only see the blackened interior of the storage room, but she could hear rather clearly. “Ah, hello Imdi. How’re you?”
“G-good, Priestess.” The boy sounded nervous. Priestess?! Rylett was here? In their home…
“I know it’s only been two days, but I wanted to inform you of our progress.” Someone was boiling the kettle, and Ki-yu had to strain to hear.
“She’s said she’s really enjoying it so far,” Baba said. “Even if it’s just for the opportunity to talk to someone new.”
“So, how’s it going?” Mama probed, the sound of warm water sloshing into cups. “I trust she’s asking many hard questions.”
“I wish some of my other students were so eager!” Rylett chuckled. There was a mutter of thanks and a slight pause. “The girl is superb. Gifted, I would say.”
“R-really?”
“Yes! She was clearly nervous at first, but once we started chatting, I could barely get her to stop! Ki-yu asks question after question. Her mathematics could be improved it’s true, but everything else is exceptional. Her literary capacity, her creativity, her expressionism. Her knowledge of scientific theory I have never known one so young to possess. She told me that the first time she had used a computer was during our first lesson. Could that be true?”
“Well…” Baba murmured. “I’d shown her how to use it, and she uses the radios a lot, so she might be familiar with a manual interface… But I guess it probably would have been.” Rylett made an exasperated sound.
“It should take a child days to become fluent in typography. Ki-yu was functional in hours. More than just intelligence, she seems to be incredibly mature. She doesn’t seem to blame anyone for having to hide.” Ki-yu listened with bated breath, shocked by the Priestess’s words. Her parents had always praised her, but to hear a stranger, someone she had spoken to twice say it was revelatory.
“She’s lived like this all her life,” Mama said quietly.
“Yes, that’s my point! It should have made her resentful, but as far as I can tell she has accepted her being an outcast. That’s my main concern: her isolation. You were right, the girl is terribly lonely. She needs social development, and this sheltering… it’s stifling her.”
It was quiet for a few moments, but whatever look her parents were sharing clearly did not impede the Priestess. “I’ve known academics who are unquestionably brilliant, but who cannot hold a conversation to save their lives. No doubt you’ve both met a few such people in your discipline.”
“A few…” Baba muttered.
“Then you know the importance of proper interaction in one so young. I would like to meet her.” A shudder rolled through Ki-yu, desperation and doubt warring within. Both Baba and Mama tried to speak at once, Mama speaking firmly whilst Baba rumbled.
“We’ve been over this,” he said.
“She isn’t ready to see anyone,” Mama pressed. “It was a mammoth effort to convince her to even message you. A face-to-face conversation would be overwhelming.”
Ki-yu had to admit her mother handled that deftly, such a conversation would be overwhelming for both of them. But is it not my choice?
“Shouldn’t we ask her that?” Rylett said cuttingly. The words seemed to ring through the hall, even though her tone was unconfrontational. They danced before her eyes, more prescient than mere words of comfort. Ki-yu dared to hope. She… might understand.
Slowly, as though creeping out after bedtime, Ki-yu slipped out into the hall.
Baba must have turned the lights off, as none of them came on at her passing, but it did not matter. She was stepping up out of her shadows, her beloved darkness. The newcomer sat on the couch with her back to the hallway, Imdi sitting at her side. Opposite her sat Baba and Mama. Her parents went silent at Ki-yu’s approach.
“Look, I know you want to adhere to her wishes too, and I respect that. But we have to also consider what’s best for her.”
“What’s… best… for her?” Mama faltered; eyes wide as she shook her head imperceptibly. Ki-yu nodded back.
“Yes. The longer you leave it the more isolated she’ll become.” The woman set down her cup on the armrest and folded her paws in her lap. “It’ll be difficult enough already.”
Rylett was a little taller than Mama, Ki-yu guessed, her fur a lovely reddish ochre. She smells… like smoke, and the spices Baba brings from the market. Ki-yu padded forward from the darkness, before standing upright. A stride or two closer and she could touch her.
Baba was trying to mouth something to his daughter, but Mama stood, walking to the door and locking it. Rylett watched them curiously, still she had not noticed Ki-yu. Imdi looked up over the couch.
“Ku?” he said slowly. Mama sighed to herself, rubbing a paw across her forehead with her back to the door. Baba stood, somewhere between defeat and revelry.
“Well…” he said, gesturing to her. “Rylett, meet Ki-yu.”
The woman stood and turned, her quills flexing as she blinked at the predator. She had high cheeks, her face and chest a lighter cream colour than her reddish fur. She’s very pretty. The nun stood there, transfixed, so still, she might have been made of wood.
“Hello,” Ki-yu said.
Rylett screamed as she fainted.
---
“Well fed devils behave better than famished saints.”
– D.L. Smith.