It was an unbelievably hot day, mid summer, as I uneasily made my way towards the main village. My aunt, when I told her I was doing the laundry, had shoved me out the door and down the dusty road away from my safe bin of steaming water muttering about “socializing”. I had growled at her rather like one of my dogs and then shoved my simple washboard under one arm and balanced a basket of petticoats, trousers and dresses on the other hip. The country of Dolisis was a beautiful, but warm territory. Tall towering trees of red leaves, and thick dark brown bark clumped and stood where farms that stretched to the horizon hadn't cut them down.
Melinoe whined softly, her amber fur rustling as she trotted right next to my side. Her dark brown tail lifted in a slight curl. It was practically my aunt’s law that I must take, at the very least, Mel when I went outside the property. I didn’t complain about the company. My canines were, to be honest, my only friends. I spent more time in the forest behind our house reinforcing their command training and hunting than I did with other people. Melinoe’s sleek thick coat brushed against my hip, as she was a large beast that stood as tall as my lower back. Her fur was dark amber, fading into black at her paws, tails, and snout. Bright eyes of yellow scanned our surroundings with intensity, but her fluffy tail wagged back and forth putting me at ease.
The warm air smelled heavily of hay and soil as we meandered slowly down the road that would lead us to the more populated part of our town. Dust blew up from the wind and I cringed at the coat of it that would likely appear once I got to my destination. Melinoe scampered about, pissing on more than one spot as we walked, marking for whatever reason dogs needed. It was hard to avoid quickly getting to the brooke that was used by most of the women for cleaning, as it was only a short walk but I definitely tried my best.
Soon we were quietly approaching the large stream that flowed softly near the village center. It twisted by the Northeast side, a few yards beyond the homes at the very edge. Right beyond it, a dusty wide road shot eastward. I sent a silent prayer out that no travelers would trek by, on their way to the Capitol while I was here. It was hard enough convincing the village people over the years that I posed no threat despite my Suri blood. Any traveler that beheld my heritage that shone clearly through my appearance of unnatural hair color and eyes, would not kindly receive me. I pondered what had crossed my aunt’s mind when she had sent me over here, she usually practiced more caution than me and my uncle did when I walked about. Melinoe stuck to my side like glue, as she scented how often used the road was used.
Scanning either bank for a hint of shade, I sighed when the only large tree that cast a shadow over the water already held four young women on the opposite bank. Well three of them were at least as old as me, not quite yet past their eighteenth year. Their feminine giggles and soft voices drifted over to me. I squared my shoulders, hitched my skirt to my thighs with one hand and carefully waded to the only haven from the withering sun. Melinoe pounced in after me happily and I couldn't help my grin as I watched her relish in the coldness of it. Steeling myself for any comments or looks I’d grown accustomed to in the last years. It was a rare day for me to go without at least one uneasy glance, even when I lived around the same small clump of people for so long. You would think they would've grown a little bit more used to me.
I knew the girl in the middle, although we were not on the best terms, and her head snapped up at my approach. Something unreadable flashed across Kir’s honey colored face, and her cobalt blue eyes narrowed sliding up and down me as I neared. The emotion was gone before I emerged from the twisting stream and settled as far as I could from them under the flickering shadows of the branches and foliage above. I decided it was the usual one of hers, that communicated her general dislike for me. Melinoe emerged next to me and trotted around my area sniffing everything, dripping everywhere.
“Budybody,” I whispered at her fondly, letting her check everything anyway.
A small girl that couldn't be more than fourteen coughed pointedly, and the other girls quieted as they saw me set my basket to my side and roll the white sleeves of my dress up my forearms.
“Good morning, Xephyra,” The young girl’s voice was tentative and polite. A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth but her eyes remained wary.
“Morning, ladies,” I said, grabbing for a petticoat to begin rinsing, “Mel, lay,” I commanded, with a point to behind me. Quiet padding sounded as she approached, settled at my back and began grooming herself boredly.
I became acutely aware of my loose hair that tumbled down to my shoulder blades. Flowing freely from its usual loose knot. Blood red with streaks of blinding white, it stuck out like a sore thumb, marking me without a doubt as Suri. I kept my eyes downcast, making sure to keep my red irises away from their gaze, although I knew every person in our small village knew of them. Of the black tendrils that bled from my pupils and snaked through the irises. Twisting and stretching like snakes, roiling about as my anxiety raged. As if they were alive. Damn aunt Zara for making me part from my small quiet laundry bin at home, and damn Kir for scoffing at my back before drawing the other girls back into conversation.
I took the time as their attention lay elsewhere to gaze up at their little clump, slender hands working their own dirty clothing against washboards. Their idle chatter resumed and I watched as the young women all slightly angled their bodies and heads toward Kir. Listening to her for shifts in conversation, laughing when she did, nodding along gently when she talked. Kir was, to my dismay, the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. Thick, glistening tresses of onyx tumbled down the length of her back in a mass of waves and curls. The top part of it she had tied in a knot with a lovely red ribbon at the back to keep it out of her face as she worked, although wisps of it had come loose and brushed her cheeks when she leaned forward above the rushing water. Her straight small nose lifted slightly at the end in a small elegant sweep and her full lips, stained red with makeup, parted in a smile. Her dress was a simple shade of blue that matched her cobalt eyes, a black belt corset pushed her chest toward her chin.
My eyes shot away quickly as she leaned forward with a push against the shirt she squeezed on her washboard, the neckline of her dress dipping to reveal her generous curves. I suppose I was jealous of her lovely looks, sighing at the thought of my more subtly feminine body.
Aunt Zara had told me I was beautiful the first time we had met almost five years ago. As a shy twelve year old still haunted by the death of my parents, I had not smiled nor, but said thank you like my mother had taught me to receive compliments. Now I vaguely understood what she had meant. I was beautiful, in the way odd and unique looking things could be seen as such. My nose was straight and hooked at the end, strange looking compared to the petite upturned ones that the people of Dolisis commonly had. Delicately angular cheekbones and jawline made my face severe and hard to forget. My lips were a little thin but cherry red. I was strange, but lovely. Severe, but delicately stunning.
Mel, who had been chewing rather grossly on her paw fur, suddenly hopped to her feet and to my dismay ambled for Kir and her group. My eyes widened in disbelief as, instead of withdrawing away from the canine’s intimidating mass, Kir smiled widely at Mel’s approach. I remained still, as if to not interrupt any positive interaction my dog could get while being mine in this town. Kir slid her fingers through the dog’s fur and scratched behind her ears with a coo. Kir cooed. To my disbelief Melinoe then jutted her snout right into the girl’s face and licked up her cheek in one sweep. Kir let out a silvery laugh and smacked a kiss right back on Mel’s forehead. Although I didn't miss how Melinoe growled when one of the other girls reached to pat her side. The way she only let Kir touch her. Traitor.
I whistled sharply and drew the canine back to my side, but only after letting her get rained in affection by the girl who had hated me since we were twelve. If an animal could roll their eyes, Melinoe would have as she slowly retreated back to me with a farewell pat from Kir. I tried not to look back up at the other girl; Tried not to think about the smile she so easily handed to my dog, but never me.
Kir, since the day I had timidly appeared in the small class room that held the girls of the village, had taken a dislike for me. Although the nasty names had stopped when we grew up a little, she still glared at me when I was in her sight. She still found little ways to mess with me. It was a shame, really, especially as I grew to like her fierce loyalty to her friends, and maybe even they way she could manipulate anybody that walked. She was an interesting girl, for a snob.
Savoring the cold brush of the stream I began scrubbing the petticoat clean before moving onto the next piece of clothing that I retrieved from the basket at my side, after laying the wet cloth against a flat rock behind me to dry a little.
I let the gurgle of the streaming lull me into the familiar pattern of work. It had always been my job at home since I had turned eight, to wash the laundry. The first real daily task beyond bringing the dishes to the sink that my parents had assigned me. I’d actually enjoyed it. Even now it filled me with overwhelming nostalgia, even as five years seemed to flash by in a second after I had fled my home country suddenly an outlaw for what was in my blood.
Dolisis was one of the only remaining western countries that didn't hunt the Suri, officially, despite the people's obvious mistrust and disdain for my kind it was relatively safe. Except for the Kalil, a large group of mostly men that wandered the land under the guise of being simple mercenaries for hire. Most knew what their true motives were, only to ignore it, enabling and sometimes even helping the Kalil snare many Suri for slave work or death. I hoped to never see any of them.
It was almost understandable why the majority of human peoples disliked us. It’s hard to accept the strange and unusual, especially if it holds power. Ripe with the ability to hurt with a simple thought or enough training. My own abilities remained crammed deep inside me, the fire that sparked in my veins dormant, almost forgotten. I never wanted to touch such power again, never even wanted it in the first place. Actively shoving it away since my manifestation when I was seven. Years early for even my bloodline, that was recorded for its early bloomers.
Another musical laugh burst from Kir as the youngest girl said something, her onyx hair flowed about as she tossed her head back.
“Morning,” a chipper, masculine voice cut through my trance. I almost didn’t look up assuming the man was greeting the other girls, most likely Kir, but he spoke again as he crouched next to me, “Suri girl.”
My head jerked up at the addressment, my stomach dropping, “What?” I snapped, a frown tugging my already downturned lips to a deep scowl. Melinoe growled from where she saddled up next to, yellow eyes narrowing. The man looked a few years older than me, blond hair pulled back in a small knot, his skin deeply tanned. He had squatted next to me, reaching into the water and rinsing his dirt covered hands. Wisps of wheat colored hair fell into his sweat glistened face.
He glanced at me with a chuckle, glancing at Melinoe, “Sorry, I just don’t know your name,” tan callused hands cupped flowing water, and he splashed his face and neck, sighing at the cool relief, “Kallian,” He reached for a handshake with a friendly smile. Kallian’s face was pleasing but entirely forgettable. A smudge of dust swiped across his forehead, and I pondered telling him he had missed a spot.
I gave Kallian’s outstretched hand a reproachful glance, and looked back to my washboard without taking it, “Xephyra,” my voice was quiet, but certainly not shy.
To his credit, he brushed off my blatant rejection and grinned, “pretty.”
“Me or my name?” I scoffed.
“Both?”
“Lucky me,” I said with a snort, my hands making quick work of the last piece of clothing. I was at the conclusion that it was time to hurry home, because to my right I felt deep blue eyes boring a hole into the side of my head. Kir had latched her attention on Kallian as he crouched far too close to my side to be casual.
“How is the day treating you?”
“Fine, although far too hot for my tastes,” I slid my eyes to him without turning my head, “And you?”
“I’m inclined to agree with you, I'm a man made for winter to be truthful,” He said as he splashed himself once more, “You live here?”
“For years,” I drawled.
“It's a wonder I've never met you, I moved here months ago,” Killian continued, seemingly unaware of the beautiful girl that watched us.
“I don’t get out of the house much-”
“Good to see you again, Kallian,” Kir trilled from where she had appeared at my side. Her deep blue skirts brushed the smooth rocks near my basket, black slippers peeking from under the hem. I flinched. I peered up at her, and internally groaned at the clear anger that edged her lovely face. Mel’s ears perked and again I mentally shot the word traitor at her as if she could hear me.
Exactly what I needed, some man making Kir hate me even more, and my dog being friends with her.
“Hello, Kir,” Kallian said rather tightly, his hands dunked back into the water stiffly, “It’s been some time, how are you?”
“Oh, I am splendid, thank you,” Kir beamed and folded her arms under her chest, pushing it up. I glanced away, my stomach turning as Kallian looked down nervously. Sometimes, I wish a smile of mine would make a man like Kallian’s heart beat pick up. Perhaps my life among others would be easier that way. I had a suspicion that maybe even being friends with a girl like Kir would make my life easier. Unfortunately, I had never met another girl like her. I wondered if every girl had a Kir. A female that seemed like an unattainable goal, something you couldn't be.
“Well, I had better get back to work, Mr. Calen doesn't like a slacker tending his fields,” He rose and stretched displaying his full height of at least a little over six feet, his shirt lifting to reveal his muscled abdomen. With a wink in my direction that had me retreating in on myself with Kir’s presence still looming behind me, he strode off across the road at my back to the fields of hay beyond. Men I recognised from the village called to him rowdily from where they worked, baling hay in the second cut of the year. It seemed that he was quite popular, it was no wonder Kir had fixed her sights on him. His lean muscular build, charming crooked smile, and handsome face definitely helped.
“Awe, so soon?” She crooned in a sultry, almost evil hum. It seemed oddly sarcastic.
Practically shoveling the damp, now clean, laundry into my awaiting basket I muttered about getting them back to my clothes line to fully dry when Kir’s slim fingers wrapped around my wrist. I froze. My red eyes rose to her blue ones and my head tilted to the side in question. Her honey skin was stark against my pale hand as her grip tightened just a little. She was a few inches taller than myself, up close she was possibly more perfect than when viewed from afar. The details of her face, even her pores and the small scar that adorned her temple that was not quite completely healed as if she had gotten it recently.
“Don’t talk to Kallian again, Red,” She warned sharply, some emotion I couldn't pinpoint darkening her face. Stepping away from her with a quick jerk of my arm freeing me, I tucked my washboard with the clothes and reached to pick everything up. Melinoe had shoved her thick body between us and now backed off , as if confident I could take of myself. Or maybe she just didn't want to growl at her new friend.
“I’ll try,” I replied blandly.
It took me far too long to process the world tilting, Kir’s foot hooking my ankle and the rushing stream quickly approaching quickly in my view. Water flew around me as I tumbled rather ungracefully into the cold channel. With a wet crack my head snapped against the rocks and my entire head dipped under the shallow water. I sputtered, shoving myself to my knees with a groan. Skin digging against sharp stone I spun angrily, many words that Aunt Zara would blanch at racing to be the first out of my mouth.
The anger that had surged through me like a fire died within a second as I looked past Kir who faced the dusty road and beheld what was passing by.
A band of sturdy men covered in brown leather armor and armed to the teeth trudged by, deep voices throwing about words that were perhaps worse than the ones I was so close to shoving in Kir’s face. Fifteen men all sneering and hollering at the five of us like jackals. Each one of them sporting a black triangle with a line down the middle on some spot of their armor. Fifteen Kalil focused their leers directly at us.
My heart began racing as fast as a galloping horse. Shit. Shit. Shit. Hands shooting to my soaked hair, my face drained of all color. Tucking my hair as far back as possible I lowered my gaze and stumbled to my feet, forcing a blush to my cheeks as I pretended my lowered eyes were a product of embarrassment. A young girl who had just tripped and stood soaked in front of men. I curved my shoulders inward and forced a quiver into them. Melinoe slunk in front of Kir and I, ears laid back and curled her lips back from her teeth in a vicious snarl, hackles rising.
The tallest among them stepped toward, a small smirk twisting his expression, “Hello, ladies,” He purred to all five of us, “and dog,” to my relief he seemed more focused on the factor of us being female than he was on my hair or strikingly unnatural irises. A rush of relief barreled through as I realised my wet hair hid the unusual color. His own hair shone bright copper under the beating sun, and his pale skin was coated in dust from no doubt a long walk on this road. A scar of ugly purple, as if freshly healed, marred the left side of his face. He was almost as tall as Kallian. I silently cursed my lack of height.
Rocks shifted as the other three girls edged towards us, instinctively clumping together and ducking a little behind Kir’s straightened back. She almost sounded like an actual Lady as she cleared her throat, and I watched under lowered lashes as she placed her delicate hands on her generous hips sounding almost bored, “Sit Melinoe,” She commanded and I blinked when Mel immediately obeyed, likely sensing that Kir needed to look in charge.
“Greetings, gentlemen,” to my utter and complete disbelief she angled her body slightly in front of me and the others. As if protective, “Where do you find yourself heading? Is it directions you need?”
“No, no. We know where we are headed,” He said, now warrily watching Mel out of the corner of his eye, “But does your village have an inn we could rest at? We’re kinda tired.”
“We do have one, but it doesn't have enough rooms for your large…” She paused looking for a word, “party.”
“Are any of the village homes open for board, or,” he flashed an oily grin,that had me shivering and turning my eyes to the ground from where they had drifted, “guests.”
“No, now if you’ll excuse us my father is waiting for my sisters and I to finish and get home,” Kir had slowly backed us towards the stream, her body taught like a doe ready to run. Melinoe pressed her side to Kir’s thighs, pushing us away from the men before us.
“I'm sure he wouldn't mind yall showing me and my men into town-”
“Everything okay over here?” A familiar voice shot through, interrupting the redhead mid sentence. Kallian strode across the road, behind him ten men following, their work abandoned.
“They were just leaving,” Kir said pointedly, allowing the men edge between us and the Kalil, sweeping an invisible speck of dust off her shoulder. She was a perfect picture of ease, although looking closer I saw her hand closest to me clenched in a tight fist at her side. A little drop of blood dripped through her fingers as if she had dug her perfect nails through her own skin. Even with a new wall of muscle separating us from the Kalil on the other side, I had the sudden urge to step in front of her. I wanted her hand to relax, even as I stood there dripping wet, my own blood leaking from a stinging gash across my cheekbone caused by her.
“Right, yes, we were just asking the best way to the inn,” I heard the leering man say over the tense silence, “but we can find our way, we really mean no trouble.”
I almost snorted at his sudden change in tone, the way he made himself sound small and kind. What a pig, I thought, softly rolling my eyes.
“Ah, well, Kallian here can show you!” An older man clapped the blond across the back roughly and the air of hostility seemed to lessen. I kept my eyes on the ground as the thumping of boots receded further away as the group of mercenaries headed into town.
“Thank you Mr. Calen,” Kir said to the man that had volunteered Kallian, “We were quite nervous, as we all know the Kalil don't mean well when it comes to women. You are all very courageous to step in.”
Every male in the small group seemed to preen with pride, straightening a little as they all blushed under Kir’s words. She definitely knew how to work men’s ego into her favor. She peeked through her lashes bashfully and made eye contact with all of them. Even Mr. Calen, who was old enough to be her father, was temporarily tranced. Pigs.
“Um, yes, well what kind of men would we be if we let strangers approach our young girls like that,” Mr. Calen coughed and glanced away before barking at everyone to get back to work, his voice gruff and embarrassed. The men grunted
Snapping away from focusing on their retreating backs I turned, looking around for my basket. I needed to get home quickly, before there was a chance I ran into any Kalil wandering about on the path there. Shaking fingers wrapping around the handles of my woven basket. I heaved it up trying to ignore the water that dripped from my hair and the way my white bodice stuck against my skin exposing more skin than my shoulder-less sleeves already did. My green skirt and petticoat bunched against my legs, and I became concerned for the delicate black corset that wrapped my waist as I remembered my aunt’s clear instructions not to soak it. Lovely.
I had stepped forward to quickly cross the stream when I felt a familiar stare on the back of my head. I turned to meet her gaze, scowling. Something that resembled guilt or sadness flickered behind her eyes but was gone in a half a second. As if she had seen the wound and felt bad, before realizing who exactly I was. She returned my scowl and then twisted back to console the nervous girls that clung to her.
The sun had peaked in the sky and bore down on me as I parted from the others without a second glance. On the walk home I had the uneasy feeling of someone watching me, but every time I paused to listen with my sensitive hearing only the sound of birds and whispering leaves in the wind.
I got home in record time, my steps hurried, practically running. I felt sick as I stalked up the path to our little blue door, adorned with little intricately painted roses. I cringed as I saw my aunt open the door and see me.
“What the-” she shot out over the porch and scanned me like I might very well be mortally wounded beneath my already drying bodice and skirts, “What happened!?” Zara hissed with concern, and her aging hands fluttered over my face. Titling my head so she could see the cut that ran along my cheekbone. Her gentle grey eyes roved over my face and she let out a little tsk, although her face remained soft with worry. I felt like a small kid again even as she stood at least two inches shorter than me.
“It’s not a big deal, aunt Zara,” I lowered my eyes so she couldn't see my expression as I said, “I tripped and fell into the stream, that's all.” Telling her Kir had been the sole reason I had tripped, Zara was protective to a fault at times. I didn’t want any unnecessary strain with my aunt and uncle’s relationship with the neighbors.
“Oh, my clumsy girl,” She sighed and took me up in her arms, like she could hug me dry. Her arms were thin but her grip was strong, pulling me against her.
“Really, I’m fine.”
At last Zara released from her embrace and immediately took the clothing from my arms, “Go change, and let your uncle tend to your face, love. I’ll hang the laundry.”
Before I could insist I was fine and grab the basket from her arms she strode around the side of our simple light brown house, disappearing around the corner with a wave. I silently agreed with myself to finish inside quickly, so that my aunt wasn't outside in the heat for much longer.
“What the hell happened to your face, Xephyra?” My uncle Nol bellowed from his spot in our little kitchen, just to the right of the front door. Nol was a tall and sturdy man, despite his age, but he had lost a leg nearly twenty years ago. Now, he stood with one made of dark oak wood, and he had difficulty moving about outside.
When I was thirteen, more comfortable around them after a year of living as a family, I began asking what had happened to him. Every time it was a different story, to the point I don’t think even Nol remembers what the real one is anymore. Wild horse smashed it to bits; He lost it to trench foot in the War; Sold it for a few bucks and a beer; The scenarios go on, more and more ridiculous yet somehow believable than the last.
“Watch your language, you big oaf,” I put a finger against my lips conspiratorially, “Zara may hear you.”
Nol chuckled and waved his hand at me, “don’t change the subject, girl,” His brown hair fell against his forehead, shining under the sunlight drifting through the kitchen window. My uncle was intimidating and large, but his deep brown eyes shone of kindness that trumped even the warmth that shone from Zara. His large hands encased a tea kettle’s handle, dwarfing it. He handed me an already prepared cup that he likely made for himself, but I eagerly down the lovely bitter drink even as the heat of it wasn't very welcome on such a day.
“I simply tripped, Uncle,” I handed the half finished cup back to him and declared that I needed to change before I got sick. Aiming for my small room at the very end of our one story cabin, smiling my thanks to Nol for the drink before disappearing behind my door with a click.
* * * * *
The next morning I found a small tin salve and three pristine strips of bandage leaning against our front door, a single dahlia resting next to it.
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