Cognizant of the time and of Mila’s mother, May, Yara gently raised Mila up and looked into her eyes.
“Okay, Mila. Today didn’t go as we both hoped it would. But it’s not over. The Calling is still ahead, and I’ve spent the past eight years training for this. I’ll be a warrior a little later than we planned. Is that okay with you, young trainee?”
“I guess,” Mila replied rolling her eyes but couldn’t help bursting into a smile.
***
As they walked back towards the dwellings, Mila chatted excitedly about all the things Yara would be able to do when she was a warrior, especially being able to afford a piece of sensopa.
“And you must share half of it with me!” she said cheekily.
“And what about Kristos? Does he get any?”
“No!” Mila shouted as she ran down her trail to her dwelling. “Because he’s a dumb boooy!”
Yara laughed as she walked on. Her belly grumbled at the thought of food. She quickened her steps. She was sure her mother would have something warmed in the heated glass, but she was also dreading having to share the details of the day. She didn’t want to disappoint her parents. As she walked up to the door of her dwelling, she calmed herself knowing that her parents’ love had always been unconditional.
Yara could hear her parents speaking in low voices just as she entered. She could not make out their words, but she could sense the depth of their concern.
“Yara!” Lana exclaimed and grabbed Yara into her arms for the tightest hug.
“Are you okay, YaraStar?” Sorin stood up and gently embraced her, then stood back studying her face.
“I guess I’m okay…”
“Yara… where did you learn to fight like that?” her father asked softly.
Yara glanced at both her parents, realizing only then that they already knew. Word did spread quickly in the village, and she had taken some time to come back home. She felt a bit cheated that she didn’t get to share her side of it first.
“I didn’t mean to disrespect the traditional style, Father,” Yara complained slightly. “But, isn’t it about time that the Photaks learned new ways of fighting? The methods I invented may not be how it is usually done, but if I teach the other trainees, perhaps we can defeat the Skotads once and for all! And I won, Father, did they tell you that? Mother, I won! It was an amazing fight. No one could predict my moves, and just when I thought it was the end, I felt this surge of energy and spun into the air in a flying—”
“YARA!”
Her mother stopped her with an almost panicked look on her face, and her eyes wider than Yara had ever seen before. Lana put her hands over her mouth and paced.
“Sorin, what do we do? She didn’t know. It isn’t her fault. Who knows what they will decide?”
“Mother,” Yara said in confusion, “Chief Lamad spoke to me afterward. I will still become a warrior through the Calling. Why are you so worried about this?”
“He spoke to you?” Sorin asked. “What did he say? What did the Elders say?”
“Nothing much…” Yara said, slightly annoyed at the big deal her parents seemed to be making out of this.
It was not the reaction she expected, and it certainly lacked the comforting she needed.
“He seemed to think that I should have stuck to the traditional Photak fighting style. The Elders were disrespected by my inventiveness and—”
“Were those his exact words, Yara?”
Sorin’s interruptions and Lana’s pacing finally got to Yara.
“Why are you all being this way? You kept me as a baby even though I looked like a freak, but because I have a different fighting style that is way better than any Photak method, you are upset? I thought you would be proud of me! I created something that even Kristos thinks is amazing!”
Lana’s expression was so horrified that Yara stormed off into her room. Lana looked at Sorin with fear rippling on her face and tears coming to her eyes.
“They didn’t tell her, Sorin… they didn’t tell her she fights like a Skotad!”
Chapter Five
Yara lay in her swaddling, unable to sleep. Her parents had continued to talk in hushed, worried tones for hours after she stomped to her room. It made her feel like a complete outcast for the first time in her life. Her dwelling had always been a safe space where she felt unconditionally loved and accepted. Now, she felt like she was too much, even for her parents.
They aren’t my real parents anyway, she silently countered.
She immediately felt guilty for even thinking like that given all they had sacrificed for her. She may have felt angry with them, and everyone and everything, but most of all, she felt angry with herself. She had been so overconfident in her ability to impress the Elders and the Chief that all she had ended up doing was bringing more negative attention to how much she stuck out. She had let her ego get the best of her, and she hated herself for it. She harshly wiped the tears from her face that had managed to escape her eyes. Yara felt crying was not something becoming of a warrior.
If I ever become a warrior, she thought bitterly.
The reaction of her parents to her creativity made her feel like this was far worse in the Elders’ eyes than she had initially presumed. She felt tortured by the prospect. She had never considered the possibility of life as anything other than a Photak warrior.
Her mind drifted back to the fight itself, to the voice. She didn’t want to think about it, but there was something undeniably curious about its whispers. It was the way she felt when she heard it speak… Something about that intrigued her the most.
In her present, ostracized moments, its eerie call felt alluring. She wanted to beckon it somehow, and understand it more, but she felt like that was an even more dangerous indulgence. She was already facing the consequences of her unacceptable appearance and the apparent sins of her pride. She didn’t need yet another incident to make her a bigger freak in everyone’s eyes. She committed to herself, there and then, to never listen to the strange, ethereal voice ever again. Whatever it was, it would only make her life worse.
“Never again…” she muttered firmly, finally falling asleep.
***
“WHAT ARE YOU?!”
“WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?”
“She’s such a freak.”
“She’s no warrior!”
“She doesn’t even fight like us.”
“She’ll never be one of us.”
“Sunstar didn’t even give her markings.”
“Even Sunstar knows she’s a freak.”
“Everyone hates you!”
“You don’t belong here!”
“She should just leave.”
“What is she?”
“YaraStar… do you know who you are?”
“YaraStar… do you know who you are?”
“YaraStar… do you know who you are?”
“YARA!”
Yara awoke suddenly to her father’s shout and found both of her parents standing over her swaddling, looking even more worried than the night before.
“What…?” Yara mumbled, still half asleep.
“Yara… what language were you speaking? You were moaning and crying before we woke you…”
“What…”
Yara’s eyes shot open. The language! The strange one she didn’t know but could somehow understand. She must have been repeating it in her sleep when she heard it in her dreams.
She became self-consciously aware of how wet her clothes were. She had been perspiring so much that her swaddling was soaked. She then remembered her parents were still waiting for a response and looked towards them. She felt ashamed when she observed them for the first time in a long time. There were signs of stress and aging that she had never noticed before. Had she been the cause of it? She couldn’t help but wonder.
“I don’t know, Father…” she said softly. “I think I just had a bad dream…”
Lana looked towards Sorin with a sense of grave concern.
“Yara,” she said, “go on and get cleaned up. Your father and I would like to talk to you before you head out today.”
Yara nodded, and as her parents left the room, she lay back and closed her eyes. She felt like she had been untethered from her usual sense of calm. Even worse, whatever this voice was, it didn’t like to be ignored. She had awoken her Tribe parents because of it. She felt drained, disoriented, and tense. Yara sighed with a sense of hopelessness. There were no answers yet to explain whatever this was, and she needed to accept that for the time being.
She got up and readied herself for the day. A day in the Soar, practicing the traditional Photak fighting methods, could be the refocusing exercise she needed. She had a lot she needed to take out on the feathered trees, given that Kristos wouldn’t be around to spar. Plus, now that she had her Guiding Thread, perhaps she could take a peek into the Greens. It would be her first time back there since she had been found as a baby.
Before anything, she needed to deal with her parents.
As she made her way out of her room and into the wooden, carved living space, her eyes widened in awe. There, on the table in the middle of the room, was an entire sensopa surrounded by choice picks from the beautiful flora of Mira. Her parents stood on either side of it with nothing but love in their eyes.
“Mother… Father… how did you afford…”
Her father walked over and placed his hands on her shoulders.
“Yara, there will never be a moment in your life that we aren’t proud of you. We’ve had this for you since yesterday, whether or not you were chosen, whether or not you won or lost. We were not going to wait until the Calling because we wanted you to know that we are so impressed with you, not because you may be a warrior, but because of who you are. We’re sorry that yesterday did not turn out as we had planned it to… Your mother and I were very worried about you. We wish to explain why, but first, let’s eat together, and you can tell us all about the inner fight… through your exquisite eyes.”
Relief flooded through Yara’s body as she embraced her Tribe parents and melted in the warmth of their love. They sat together and ate, each savoring every bite of the rare treat. Yara excitedly told them the details of the past day, in just the way she would have wanted. Naturally, she excluded all accounts of the troublesome voice. Despite their apparent reservations, her parents were genuinely proud, and it showed all over their faces. Only the strongest were known to win the inner fight, and considering the harder road Yara had to walk all her life, it was definitely worthy of praise.
Lana looked at Yara and smiled. She recalled their first moments together by the Sapstream in the Greens.
“You know, Yara… yesterday was sixteen years to the day since I found you as a wee one. Your father and I were already beginning to grow old, and we had given up on having a chance to fill our home with this kind of love. Still, I prayed to Sunstar for a child every single day.”
Lana always retold the story on days when she felt that the family needed to be closer. She once said she believed it reminded them of how special it was that they found each other. She continued, reaching her hand towards Yara.
“It was Sunstar who showed me where you lay on the banks of that rare Sapstream. Sapstreams are unpredictable, changing their courses all the time, so to find one was a clear blessing from Sunstar. Just as a peaceful feeling of warmth overcame me, I saw a small glow of light through the Shadows and followed it to find you, my swaddled baby Yara.”
Lana had never been able to conceive, and although she was worried that the baby could be a Skotad, she felt like Sunstar’s signs were too great to ignore.
“I took you to the edge of the Greens. There, I slowly unwrapped your swaddling to see your reaction to Sunstar’s rays. That’s when I first saw your stunning blue hair—I was so shocked! I was also a little more worried then. Yet, when Sunstar’s rays had touched your skin, you smiled in glee! You finally opened your eyes... They looked so strikingly beautiful, I wondered if I was dreaming!”
Yara rolled her eyes as she always did when her parents complimented her. She often joked that all parents had to say that about their children.
“When I carried you back to the village, I was so scared that the Tribe would take this blessing, take you, away from me… but I always knew your father would support me and love you as much as I did.”
Sorin reached over and held Lana’s hand, his face softening in recognition of the memory.
“Those times were very difficult,” Lana continued, “and if it had not been for Chief Lamad, we would have taken you and left the village… because there was no way we could imagine a life without our blue-haired belle. Thank Sunstar that the day before I found you, Kristos was born. Lamad, knowing how much it meant to him to finally have his own child, took pity on us. He placed his title, his Chiefdom, on the line for us with the promise that he would watch over you. They were all so afraid, but he wasn’t. He saw that you were an innocent child blessed to walk in the light of Sunstar…”
Lana’s voice broke a little. As she regained her composure, Sorin stepped in.
“We owe you an explanation for our extreme concern last night, Yara. You see… there is a lot you don’t yet know about the Tribe… not because you appear to be different but because young’uns aren’t allowed to be involved in the serious matters of the Tribe… and, even for us, there are still some secrets that are reserved only for the Elders and the Chief. It is Photak Law and Photak Law is the will of Sunstar.”
“Is that why no one would ever talk to us about how a Skotad really looks or moves or talks or eats or anything?” Yara interrupted, bursting with curiosity.
There had been many days she and Kristos would theorize about what Skotads were like and how they fought. They had heard rumors about their pale, ghostly skins and silvery-white hair, and would often bother their trainers for answers. Their trainers would tell them to concentrate instead on mastering Photak attacks and defenses with precision first and, after the Calling, learn how to endure the Blurry in the Greens. Then and only then could they concentrate on strategically learning the Skotad methods. Those who were able to endure the Blurry the fastest and see the clearest were given the top missions for the Tribe against the Skotads. She and Kristos had dreamed about being in that leading platoon for years.
Yara noticed her parents exchanging furrowed glances. She knew there was something she was missing. Something important. Something she needed to know. She reached out and held both their hands.
“Just tell me…”
***
Deep within the main keep, Kristos lay staring at the sacred marks upon the ceilings. Yara’s father had been the one to carve this particular room, as was evidenced by the mastery in the workmanship. He admired both of Yara’s parents. They were good, hardworking Photaks… and they were brave…
Kristos sighed and turned to his side, squeezing his eyes tight hoping to shut out his newfound knowledge. In fact, he didn’t even consider it knowledge. It was speculation, plain and simple. Or so he desperately wanted to believe. Years of training side by side with Yara were being forcefully tainted overnight by the Elders. He had been interrogated for so many hours that he had lost track of time. Now, their training sessions at the Soar and his knowledge of her fighting style were being painted as him possibly harboring a…
No, he thought, not Yara. They don’t know her like I do… no one does…
He swore under his breath as he felt a pang in his heartstar. He felt torn and so confused.
No Skotad had ever been able to withstand the rays of Sunstar. Even the Elders could not deny this. They had no answers as to how she could, but the fact that she fought in an advanced Skotad style meant something was wrong. It was such a superior display of strength that no Photak warrior, not even the greatest of them, had ever witnessed anything like it. Yara was seen as a serious threat. They seemed divided on the course of action to take. Some wanted to leave her and observe, turning Kristos into a spy. O
thers wanted to bring her in and “interrogate” her. If she did not come in willingly, they would bring her in using the ways they usually captured Skotads. Merciless ways.
Kristos shuddered at the thought. He would quicker volunteer to be a spy than let Yara ever go through that. He imagined the betrayal Yara would feel if he volunteered. She would prefer to go down fighting than understand why he needed to choose the lesser of the two evils. He shook his head as he contemplated her stubborn nature and groaned. She wasn’t going to make this easy. In fact, none of this was easy.
Kristos now knew of his father’s true sacrifice sixteen years ago, when he risked the Chiefdom line so that Yara’s parents could keep Yara. He felt a deep sense of grief. It wasn’t just the possibility of no longer becoming the next Chief that tortured Kristos. Lamad had taken on a responsibility that could cost him everything. If the Elders determined that the Chief’s decisions risked the safety of the Photak Tribe, he could be excommunicated in the worst of ways. His father would be sentenced to Light Banishment. He would be sent into the Greens to succumb to the Light Blindness, never to be a part of the Photak Tribe ever again.
There was no easy solution and no foreseeable way out of this. All Kristos knew was that he wanted, and needed, to see Yara. The Elders had ordered that all communication with her should be reported directly to them in full detail. He was not even allowed to share it with his father. It was, he was told, Kristos’ only way of possibly saving Lamad from Light Banishment. Kristos decided he would find a way to fix this and prove to everyone that Yara was a Photak, not just to try to save his father, but also because…
Because I… love her…
Chapter Six
As Kristos neared the Soar, he could hear her. He winced for the poor feathered trees that were the object of her attacks. He could tell from the sounds that Yara was at the height of her anger. He realized that she must know that her fighting style was being seen as Skotad style. He hoped she knew he hadn’t known. He wondered how she must have felt, especially as the Skotads were the very ones who had almost killed her Tribe mother. He felt his heartstar pang again. It happened every time his love for Yara surfaced from the place he had shoved it down all his life.
The Unmarked Girl (The YaraStar Trilogy Book 1) Page 4