Failure. Nothing but failure. We were arrogant. We were overconfident. Too much trust in ourselves. We saw what was coming towards us, we thought we needed no one. We thought we were safe on our own, confident in ourselves.
We know better now. Or do we? No one can survive alone. No one can carry a burden without another pair of hands.
Five. The death count of good fighters who have helped me in my experiments. I need their help, can’t do it alone. But soon I will have to. Are we all simply doomed? I must try. I will have her to help me, of that I am sure. She will watch over me, never alone. No one succeeds alone.
-Doc Vorran 18 years. 18 years.
I reach the door of our home and pause with curiosity. There’s a sack hanging from the handle with a note pinned to it.
Play along, don’t be an idiot.
I turn the card over hoping there would be more information. There isn’t. I take in a deep nervous breath and grab the sack pulling the door open. Entering the home, I can hear chattering and laughing from the family sitting down to breakfast. I don’t hear any tears or frightened arguments, that’s a good sign.
Taking slow careful steps down the staircase, I turn the corner to confirm my assumptions. In the dining room I see the family sitting down at the table as if nothing’s wrong. Everyone is smiling and happily enjoying some fried cakes and eggs. Zoey’s face is smeared with food and Wren is trying to pick cake out of her hair. The scene is normal, traditional, happy. I realize I haven’t eaten breakfast with my family in a long time, usually I sneak in early morning and sleep until the afternoon. I’ve missed them.
Wren looks up from Zoey’s mess washing her hands of the situation. She sees me and beams with a bright smile. “There you are!” She rushes over to me and wraps me in a tight hug. Looking down she beams, plants a kiss on my cheek, and takes the sack from me. “You didn’t have to do this for us Talea.”
I look at her with a stunned expression. “I, uh, no problem?”
Wren glanced towards the family. “Lesedi told us you decided to collect risen berries for us. It worried me, but I’ll admit, they are my favorite luxury.”
I nod with realization coming over me. “Yeah, well, happy to help.”
Wren smiles with complete giddiness like a little girl. “I’ll put these in a pie right away. We’ll have it for lunch!”
She runs off towards the kitchen, I haven’t seen her this happy in a long time. Lesedi stands up from her chair and walks towards me. I look at her gaping for answers. “I don’t understand.”
She shrugs with silence and walks off to our bedroom. I feel like my mind is spinning. Trigan approaches me and gives me a soft kiss on the forehead. “That was a nice thing you did there.” He pulls back and points at me with an attempt at sternness. “Dangerous though, I don’t want you making a habit of this. But thank you. Everyone needed the pick-up.”
I shrug with confusion and discomfort. “Ok. I’m glad. I uh, I’m going to go get some rest.” He nods and skips off to the kitchen with Wren, whom I can hear singing.
I shake my head walking straight to my room. Risen berries were in that bag? They’re the rarest berry in the outlands. They grow everywhere, but the berry is grown inside a hard-shelled flower, a flower that only opens at sunrise. If you harvest the flower and cut it away it ruins the berry’s flavor. The only way is to go out just before the suns come up and pluck as many as you can while the flowers are open. It’s dangerous. But they’re the most delicious unique taste, better than green geckle, better than loren berries. That explains why they let my dangerous behavior slide. The thing is, I didn’t gather risen berries. Lesedi did.
I enter the bedroom disturbed and confused; my eyes fall upon Lesedi sitting on the bed reading a book. Well, pretending to read. I can tell when she’s focused and learning. Right now, she’s just trying to look busy while she stews in her anger. I close the door behind me and walk over to my bed collapsing into it.
The day is young and I’m exhausted already. I turn my head towards the edge of the bed and speak with a voice that sounds tired. “Why’d you do it?”
Lesedi responds without looking up from her book. “If your life means nothing, then clearly so does mine.”
I jerk my body upright setting a glare on my sister. “Are you really that spiteful?”
Her book snaps shut but she doesn’t look up at me. “Spiteful?” She asks with a voice born of cold rage.
I feel a flush of fear and an urge to shrink back, but I fight it. “You could have gotten yourself killed Lesedi! The only way to get those berries is to go out during the twilight!”
She stands from the bed letting her book fall onto the neatly tucked blankets. “It doesn’t matter.”
My skin heats and my fists clench at my sides as the storm of rage builds. “Doesn’t matter?! You can’t do things like that! You could die!” I inhale with flaring nostrils. “If I lost you-“
She lifts her eyes to meet mine, her face is taught with controlled fury. “You what? Tell me, would it matter at all? A nightstalker could have torn me open, but would you even care?”
I bark at her with a release of anger and frustration. “Of course, I would!”
She shrugs and stretches her neck letting the anger fall away. “I woke up an hour before sunrise like I always do. You hadn’t clumsily snuck back in yet.” She takes a deep breath and locks her eyes on me. “Either you had lost track of time and weren’t going to make it back before the family woke up. Or you were dead. Being that I didn’t know one way or the other, I planned for option 1.”
I sigh with defeat, and rub my temples. “You risked your life to prove a point?”
She shrugs and walks back to her bed sitting down with perfect posture. Though I can see she’s still upset with how tight her hands are clasped together in her lap. “What point did I make Talea?”
Clarity hits me. I realize what I’ve been putting my sister through. The thought of her being out in the dark, alone, vulnerable to attack makes a pit in my stomach. It makes me angry and hurt, most of all it makes me feel helpless. Anything could have happened to her, and I would not be there to save her. She could have died and left me alone, she’s the only family I have.
I let out a slow breath and back up to my bed falling into it. “Ok, ok. I think I get it.”
She raises one eyebrow. “You’ll end your nocturnal escapades then?”
“No.” She glares and opens her mouth to object. I interrupt with my hands reaching out towards her. “But there’s got to be something we can agree on.”
A tense pause settles between us. Lesedi tilts her head and purses her lips. “Your sweater is on backwards.”
I look down and sure enough the V shaped collar that should be in front isn’t there. I laugh, shrug, and pull the sweater off tossing it into the laundry basket. “Oops.”
Before she can make a snarky response, she gasps at seeing my body. She bolts to her feet and dashes to my bed to examine me. “He attacked you!”
I grunt as she pokes a black bruise. “No, he didn’t it’s not-”
Lesedi hovers over to my back to see the deep welted cuts along my sides and shoulders. “Don’t defend him! I told you this was dangerous!”
In a near panic she leaps from the bed to grab her medical kit then floats back to me. I try to shoo her away but she flicks me in the sensitive part of my ear. “Don’t be stubborn, lay down.”
I sigh and comply with her demands. Though I feel like this is nothing but an excuse to subject me to a lecture. “Les really, I’m fine. It’s already a lot better than it was.”
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
I hear her hum with disapproval. “It seems like all I do anymore is stitch you up. When is all of this going to stop? I understand you’ve always been a risk taker, and you’re probably having fun.” She starts babbling, a sure sign her nerves are unraveling. “I’m sure he’s the first real challenge you’ve had in a long time. But this needs to end. You’re going to-”
I cut her off. “I can’t end it Lesedi.”
I feel the cold sting of slimy disinfectant. “Yes, you can. He can’t be-”
My lungs take in a deep breath and let it go. “We’re bondmates.”
✽✽✽
LESEDI:
No. The fear lurches in my chest and strangles me. My breath chokes inside my lungs like a blow to the stomach. No. That’s not possible. That can’t be. Bond mates with a nightstalker? It’s biologically unsound. I shake my head in denial. “No. No you’re not.”
Talea insists. “Yes, we are.”
I shake my head blocking the impossibility from my mind, no. After mindlessly pressing a bandage to her worst wound, I stand up from the bed and pace in a frustrated circle. “No. Trust me you’re not. I’ve done extensive research on the neurological link established between bond mates. I’ve researched the psychological, physiological, and sociological aspects. This isn’t possible. I’m sorry Talea, but he lied to you. You’re too naïve to see it, but he lied to you.”
Talea sits up and fixes a look of resentful determination on her face. Her eyes narrow with angry ferocity. I’ve seen that look many times, the look that precedes a maelstrom of resolve of which no force in this world can sway. At times I’ve often thought of Talea as a force of nature herself, she’s not to be reckoned with. A sheer wall of obduracy pushing aside all obstacles in her path.
She pulls herself to her feet looking down on me with fierce eyes. They glint under the light of our banya bulb emitting pure rage. “He didn’t tell me we were bondmates and I believed him. I’m not an idiot.”
I shove my towering sister back down to the bed shattering her intimidation. “The evidence would suggest otherwise.”
Talea allows me to shove her down, she could have fought me if she wanted to. She’s stronger than any other person I know, especially in the past couple months. I focus on her beaten, damaged body, to keep my anger at bay. Why is it we always find ourselves back here, in this bed, trying to repair her? A lump forms in my stomach with the worry that one day I will not be able to fix her. One day, I may not be enough and she will need more than stitches and antiseptic. She is aiming herself towards a catastrophic path and I feel powerless to dissuade her.
“I met him in the woods that day. When I was looking for a branch. When I saw him I couldn’t breathe. Like a wall hit my body.” Talea’s voice is half muffled by the blankets of her messy bed. She tries to keep her voice steady while I clean the gashes.
I pause. Olfactory Neurological confirmation. I remember my text books, I always do, every word.
Pheromones exude from the body like a scented fingerprint. Every individual has a unique neural pattern. In the beginning of adolescence, it begins the process of sending signals to locate ideal compatibility. The olfactory senses recognize a congruous pattern from scent. Paralysis occurs temporarily while the system confirms compatibility via the beacon.
I tisk and shake my head. “Keep talking if it helps. I’m going to need to stitch you.”
Searching through my kit I open the smallest pocket of my bag and find the needles in their correct place in a tidy row. I go through the motions so familiar to me. I sterilize the needle and pull the skin closed as precise as possible. This isn’t Talea’s first experience with sitches, it will not be her last. I’m surprised she doesn’t have more scars.
Talea takes in a deep breath and focuses on relaying her disturbing happenstance. “My whole body stopped. I couldn’t move and every bit hurt. But in a good way. Everything began spinning and I didn’t know up or down.”
Hormonal compensation floods the body with farrownine. This changes the perception of pain while the neuro-systems sync if compatible.
She winces and takes in a sharp breath. “Everything started to spin. My heart started bearing hard. It made me sick like I was going to throw up.”
Synchronization bonds the two nervous systems together. Thus, creating an extension of each other’s psyche. Imbalance of the equilibrium often occurs until the process completes. Common side effect is nausea.
Talea goes on describing her experience to my horror. I focus on my stitch work. “Then everything flashed all these colors. It was like nothing I’ve ever seen and I don’t think I can describe it. Then poof, it was all gone.”
Optical systems are the last to be affected by a temporary shared hallucination. The hallucination may be a manifestation of the two subconscious minds and their core shared traits, though the theory is unconfirmed. Once vision returns to normal the bond is immutable. All systems are primed for integration.
My heart sinks. Talea’s bondmate is a nightstalker, I had such high hopes for her. I could visualize an amazing future for her. I always thought that once she grew up and matured, she could accomplish so much. That unshakable will can be used in so many productive ways. Her rope juggling is indicative of superb reflexes. Her intelligence is beyond what she thinks herself capable of. I pictured us going to Safehaven together. She could become a commander in the Sky Legion if she wanted to, change the world. Great things.
What can she accomplish bonded to a nightstalker? A life crouching in mud hunting hort. That is if she survives. She can never be accepted among them. I already can see her “future”. The only option for them both is to live as outcasts, to turn their backs on both worlds and leave everything either of them knew. An isolated life most likely along the coast. Food will be more prevalent, though the hurricanes are frightful. She will be dead in five years likely, if she lives a full lifespan it will be one of hardship and solitude. I can see it all clear as day. As far as I am concerned her life is already ruined, only she hasn’t realized it yet. Once again, like always, she never considers the consequences.
I finish the careful stitches and wrap her torso in bandage. Lots of it. Talea smiles a grin ignorant to what’s ahead of her. “Look Les, I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry ok? I never paid attention to this stupid bondmate stuff so I don’t really know what’s happening and it scares me. I need your help. You’re all I have.” Her voice is small and pitiful. I can hear tears threatening to break her sentence.
I steel my heart and my tone. “Then listen now. The only way to prevent bonding is to avoid physical contact from the very beginning. It grows through touch. Many people who for various reasons don’t want a bondmate have successfully warded it off by simply leaving and never seeing the person again. It stays like a small itch in your brain, but eventually you don’t notice it. That window has passed for you.” She cringes awkwardly. “Bondmates are considered married the moment they touch and accept it. There is no going back from that point. With every minute spent in proximity the bond grows. It is powerful and immutable. Nothing can stop it once it has been acted upon. You might as well try to stop the suns from rising.”
Talea raises her eyebrows with hope. “Then I didn’t do anything wrong? If he’s my bondmate then there’s nothing I could have done right? Can’t fight it?”
I shoot Talea a glare so hot she averts her eyes. “You did everything wrong. You should have told me before sneaking out with that monster.”
She leaps from the bed and winces. “Don’t call him that!” I pull her back to finish wrapping her bandages.
A storm of anger rages within me, I can feel it wanting to unleash itself on Talea. That would do no good. No. I tame it, like I always do, and remain seated.
“What is your plan Talea?” She shrugs. No plan. Of course. “You two will not be able to exist apart from each other for long. The bond grows more powerful as time goes on. If you had not acted on it in the first place it would have only been an irritant. But with proximity, and sex, it grows at an implacable rate. You’re smarter than this, what is your plan?”
She sighs. “When Wren and Trigan put me in the caravan I sneak away to be with Othin. That’s as far as I’ve gotten.”
I take a moment to pinch the bridge of my nose and inhale. “At least you’ve tried. But there are so many flaws here.”
Talea grunts. “Like what?”
I list them on my fingers. “The caravan will tell Wren and Trigan you disappeared; they’ll assume you died. You have no place to go with Othin where you both can be accepted. You have no wilderness survival skills to live in the outlands alone.” I pause pointing to my fourth finger. “I’ll never see you again.”
She bites her lip and winces, but not from her wounds. Her voice is meek and quiet. “Lesedi what do I do?” Her face is full of fear, I see realization in her eyes as she sees the mess she’s gotten herself into.
I consider for a moment as I weigh options and probabilities. I see a line in my mind that stretches along pictures representing different outcomes, floating among the images are calculations and lists of variables. I turn to my sister and rest a hand on her shoulder. I hate what I’m about to say. “You’ll need to find a way to join a nightstalker village.”
Her brows draw down with confusion and fear. “How am I supposed to do that?”
I shrug. There’s no book about nightstalker culture and policies. “I suggest you go ask that nighstalker of yours.”
She pauses in thought, then smirks at me. “Does this mean you don’t think he’s going to kill us all?”
I purse my lips and tilt my head. “Perhaps.”
✽✽✽
TALEA:
The sky is clear today, not a cloud in the sky. Though the air is still cold and biting. The breeze is soft, but it still chills straight through our bones. My feet crunch across another new sheet of snow that covers the grasslands. I can’t wait until the warm season comes back, to see all of the animals come out of hibernation. Othin tells me so many of them take on a different form under the night, he tells me many of them glow. I take a happy breath looking ahead, things are unsure but I know deep in my bones that everything will be alright. I know we’ll be together, that we’ll be happy. I feel silly and embarrassed by my thoughts, I know it’s naïve to believe in happy endings. But I can’t help it.
Trigan walks beside me in troubled silence. “Wren has spoken to you yes?” I nod. “Talea, please believe me when I say it’s the last thing I ever considered.”
Is he afraid I’m angry with him? To be honest, with everything involving Othin I hadn’t given it a second thought. Though I realize I should have, Trigan and I have always had a special connection. He’s basically my father, but of course I didn’t see past myself. I never do, I try, but it’s hard.
I smile and pat him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I understand.”
He shakes his head and wipes at his eyes with a snort to cover. “I just, I-“
I stop, turn, and grip his shoulders looking into his eyes. “Trigan, I do not blame you. Or Wren.” Think, other people’s feelings, what do I say? I smile. “I’m a handful, I know that. But I’m also stronger than you think, I promise you I’ll be fine.”
We travel across the snow making our rounds. There’s not much to take care of on the farm during lune. It’s nothing like the long warm days spent working ourselves into exhaustion together. I’ve always liked the hard labor on our farm, I feel like I have so much energy trapped inside my body, working myself helps. During lune, especially on bad days, we scarcely move at all. I wish we could hibernate like the animals do.
Trigan inspects the lock to the barn and checks the integrity of the building. He’s surprised to see no claw marks or damage of any kind. He pinches his chin in thought, rubbing his scruffy beard. “It seems the nightstalkers decided to leave us alone this lune. Strange.” He shrugs. “Well, it’ll save me weeks of work not having to repair anything.”
I shift feeling awkward, I know why. Though I’m curious as to how Othin has managed to keep the other nightstalkers away. From what he’s described I doubt he can reason with them. Turning away from the barn I follow Trigan as he checks the creek nearby. We don’t need it for water right now, there’s plenty of snow. I feel like he’s just finding reasons to stay outside with me.
“Talea, I haven’t told you much of Thraz.” He’s riddled with guilt, and I don’t know why. “My parents come from there as do I. Oh, that was almost fifty years ago, I imagine it’s much worse now.”
I humor him and listen; I’m not going to Thraz. But he can’t know that. “The city has become so overcrowded there’s barely a bit of space for anyone. The entire city is a hostile competition for resources. My parents, they were um-“
He pauses and I usher him to go on. “They were criminals.”
I frown. “Criminals? Like the bandits banished from the cities?”
He shrugs. “Sort of. Except, they weren’t ordinary one-shot criminals. There was a powerful gang called Souls of Fire.”
I smile. “Souls of fire? Sounds intimidating.”
Trigan nods. “Indeed. The crimelord Velt was revered and feared among the city. So powerful that the enforcers couldn’t stop them. Velt ruled the city for decades as the slumlord of Thraz. The real power of the city that no one could topple.” A clever grin comes across his face. “Do you remember your grandparents’ names?”
I think for a moment; he never talks about them. They’re too much a connection to my mother, not to mention they’re dead too. I shake my head. “Sorry no.”
Guilt flushes him again. “I don’t speak of them much. Vella and Gelt Arathune.” I smile, I get it. “They were a team like no other. All of their schemes were a perfect melding, they were two crime lords acting as one. By keeping this a secret, they were even able to be in two places at once and create the image that Velt was more than a mere mortal.”
“You sound like you admire them.” I smile with eagerness; it’s thrilling to hear about my family. They were in all likelihood despicable people, but they were fearless and strong. They didn’t spend their lives in a hole.
He tilts his head. “They were my parents. They were brilliant, tough, bold.” He sighs. “They were also murderers, drug lords, slavers, and thieves.”
Confusion wraps around my mind. “What’s your point?”
He lets out a slow breath. “They died when we were eleven, killed by a rival.” He takes in another breath trying to steady his nerves. “When you get to Thraz, find their legacy, it’s been a long time but I’ve heard it’s still going. Tell them you are the granddaughter of Velt and you seek vengeance. That should get you in. Learn what you can. Survive.”
My frown is broken into a quizzical expression. “Wait, you want me to become a criminal?”
Trigan’s face intensifies as he grips my shoulders with clenching hands. “I want you to survive. I don’t care how. Please, Talea, survive. Promise me.”
Strength pulses through me, it’s as if I can feel the power and courage of lost generations. I can feel the ferocity of determination, a storm raging inside ready to be unleashed on the world. I don’t know much about these people, but I can feel it in my core that I share their bold will. A thought that scares me.
I’m standing on the edge of a chasm, a dark void promising hardship ahead of me. I can see a stranger on the other side and I know that someday it will be me. Whatever lies ahead of me, I will survive it. I will do whatever it takes, and one day I will wake up and not recognize this girl I used to be.
I look into Trigan’s eyes and for the first time in weeks I don’t try to lie. “I will survive, whatever it takes.”