Had Ya Embaela truly known what four days of walking felt like, she may have thought twice about giving her seat away so hastily. Despite the unimaginable soreness and fatigue that rippled through her muscles, being able to look at her father and brother, their faces beaming approval of her, made it worth it. Now walking with a slight limp, she could feel her toes protruding from the tips of her slippers. These shoes were made for journeys. Each time they broke for a quick meal and water, she gratefully tore the slippers from her feet and rinsed them clean, making sure to cover them so no one would discover the sores that had accumulated from the days of walking.
"Iffa may be permitted t'speak, Ya Embaela, you are quite determin' for one s'young." an ancient voice whispered to her, startling her. She turned to face Tu'Mai, the family Tarik Orere. Like most Tariks, Tu'Mai was an Androgen therefore lacking any real gender distinction. Even one as old as Tu'Mai, however, still glowed with a beauty most could only dream of. The Androgen's skin was slight pulled around the eyes and the corners of the mouth, but it's skin was still smooth as alabaster. Tu'Mai, being a traditional tarik, kept it's hair bound close to the skull to detract attention but the copper-violet sheen of each thick strand of hair still caught many eyes. The only thing that could have betrayed this beautiful creature's age was it's voice, now worn over the years of giving sound, gentle counsel.
"Do you think Zchi could be proud of me?" Ya Embaela asked innocently. Tu'Mai gave such a sudden burst of laughter that Ya Embaela winced, uncovering her feet for a brief moment. Before she could cover them, the Tarik caught her small hands and shook it's head.
"dear child, you cannae hide d'truth fromma clairvoyan' " The Tarik spoke so quickly that it's thick accent made it difficult for Ya Embaela to understand at first. She simply blinked. " How dun you 'spectta get t'Zchi iffa y'cannae even walk." The Tarik clasped her tiny feet in it's hands and spoke a few quiet incantations. Before she could note just how cold his touch was, she felt a wave of tingling heat sear through her body. She was torn between coughing and crying for a split second but it barely lasted long enough to discern which before Tu'mai released her and wheeled backwards.
"Na, cannae work." the Tarik spat as it wiped it's hands on it's cloak. "Y'cannae be touched it seems." Ya Embaela rushed to the Tarik, reaching out to help it up but it waved a furious hand at her. "You are a blessed child butta i cannae touch you. Seemsa Zchi wants you untouched." The Tarik shook it's head so firmly that it's hair began to fall from it's neat collection of pins. Ya Embaela had always adored Tu'Mai and it's current reaction to her closeness stung her deeply.
"What is wrong that you can't touch me?" she fought back tears.
"whatta wrong with me, it seems." and the Tarik flashed from her vision. Ya Embaela wanted to cry but she simply wouldn't allow herself to show any outward dischord. She slid her slippers back over her feet, wishing the Tarik Orere was able to heal them after all. The horns sounded loudly and once again they all assembled in the procession, ready to march steadily eastward to the ocean. The heat of midday had begun to wane surprisingly early and even before the sparrows began to search for roosts, the sky had grown ominously dark.
"Iffa may be permitted t'speak, Ya Embaela, you are quite determin' for one s'young." an ancient voice whispered to her, startling her. She turned to face Tu'Mai, the family Tarik Orere. Like most Tariks, Tu'Mai was an Androgen therefore lacking any real gender distinction. Even one as old as Tu'Mai, however, still glowed with a beauty most could only dream of. The Androgen's skin was slight pulled around the eyes and the corners of the mouth, but it's skin was still smooth as alabaster. Tu'Mai, being a traditional tarik, kept it's hair bound close to the skull to detract attention but the copper-violet sheen of each thick strand of hair still caught many eyes. The only thing that could have betrayed this beautiful creature's age was it's voice, now worn over the years of giving sound, gentle counsel.
"Do you think Zchi could be proud of me?" Ya Embaela asked innocently. Tu'Mai gave such a sudden burst of laughter that Ya Embaela winced, uncovering her feet for a brief moment. Before she could cover them, the Tarik caught her small hands and shook it's head.
"dear child, you cannae hide d'truth fromma clairvoyan' " The Tarik spoke so quickly that it's thick accent made it difficult for Ya Embaela to understand at first. She simply blinked. " How dun you 'spectta get t'Zchi iffa y'cannae even walk." The Tarik clasped her tiny feet in it's hands and spoke a few quiet incantations. Before she could note just how cold his touch was, she felt a wave of tingling heat sear through her body. She was torn between coughing and crying for a split second but it barely lasted long enough to discern which before Tu'mai released her and wheeled backwards.
"Na, cannae work." the Tarik spat as it wiped it's hands on it's cloak. "Y'cannae be touched it seems." Ya Embaela rushed to the Tarik, reaching out to help it up but it waved a furious hand at her. "You are a blessed child butta i cannae touch you. Seemsa Zchi wants you untouched." The Tarik shook it's head so firmly that it's hair began to fall from it's neat collection of pins. Ya Embaela had always adored Tu'Mai and it's current reaction to her closeness stung her deeply.
"What is wrong that you can't touch me?" she fought back tears.
"whatta wrong with me, it seems." and the Tarik flashed from her vision. Ya Embaela wanted to cry but she simply wouldn't allow herself to show any outward dischord. She slid her slippers back over her feet, wishing the Tarik Orere was able to heal them after all. The horns sounded loudly and once again they all assembled in the procession, ready to march steadily eastward to the ocean. The heat of midday had begun to wane surprisingly early and even before the sparrows began to search for roosts, the sky had grown ominously dark.
