
Just a few days, she thought, begged silently, begged Azeyma. The goddess remained silent and shrouded from view, however, and K'ile Tia as relentless as ever. They'd not given K'aijeen enough time. She would return, and what would she do, what would she think if she found the tribe had moved on without her? It would be worse than what the racks did to her. Worse than...
K'piru's thoughts pushed about in her skull in a fragile state, shards of glass that cracked against one another and dug furrows in her brain. No daughter left. "Nothing," she breathed out, the word a question, an echo, and a denial all in one. K'aijeen's image reflected in her thoughts and she clung to it - not nothing, but her daughter. Her baby girl.
Her limbs lost their strength, grip slackening beneath K'ile's hands. A small, desperate part of her thought she could say no now, and sneak away, hide from the tribe without their knowing, and when she returned with K'aijeen, they would all know just how wrong they had been. But it would never end that way.
The firedancer was right.
No more words came to her then, only the silent heat down her face, the sand in her belly, the weight on her chest. She managed a nod of her head, and she felt the action like stab through the gut, a betrayal of her blood, her family. K'piru felt like a traitor to her daughter, but there was nothing else she could do. There was nothing else they could do.
K'piru's thoughts pushed about in her skull in a fragile state, shards of glass that cracked against one another and dug furrows in her brain. No daughter left. "Nothing," she breathed out, the word a question, an echo, and a denial all in one. K'aijeen's image reflected in her thoughts and she clung to it - not nothing, but her daughter. Her baby girl.
Her limbs lost their strength, grip slackening beneath K'ile's hands. A small, desperate part of her thought she could say no now, and sneak away, hide from the tribe without their knowing, and when she returned with K'aijeen, they would all know just how wrong they had been. But it would never end that way.
The firedancer was right.
No more words came to her then, only the silent heat down her face, the sand in her belly, the weight on her chest. She managed a nod of her head, and she felt the action like stab through the gut, a betrayal of her blood, her family. K'piru felt like a traitor to her daughter, but there was nothing else she could do. There was nothing else they could do.
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"Song dogs barking at the break of dawn, lightning pushes the edges of a thunderstorm; and these streets, quiet as a sleeping army, send their battered dreams to heaven."
Hipparion Tribe (Sagolii)Â - Â Antimony Jhanhi's Wiki