Flashback An Old Vow and a New Face (Ayatah)

[Ayatah]

Ayatah was in a state that could only be described as euphoria. The feeling of his chest pressed against his back, how all awkwardness and nerves had completely disintegrated the moment they had sunk to the floor.

Instinct had certainly taken over, and the two had done the thing that had come naturally. Ayatah had casually slept with men before, but not like this. This time, each movement, each breath had spent shivers down her spine. She had clawed at his back, moaning his name quietly as her back arched and her eyelashes fluttered.

Her fingers intertwined with the hand of his that was closest to her head. She stretched out in a cat-like manner, her legs tensing and relaxing before linking with his. The idea of leaving this spot was unthinkable - yet all the same, it was something that they had to do.

"I hate to be the voice of reason,"

This doesn’t sound fun

"But we should probably get moved."

Ayatah groaned, shaking her head. ”Nope.” She turned her head so he could see the indignant expression on her face - and the playful grin that accompanied it.

"Or at least get dressed."

The gentle tickles on her side made her jolt and giggle. ”But I much prefer you like this,” a hand swiftly ran down his naked form. In smooth movements, Ayatah turned around, pushed him onto his back, so she ended up straddling him. She lent forward, and pushed her dark hair to one side. There was a smile on her lips that was different to any before - there was no awkwardness or ulterior motive - just simple contentment. She kissed his lips, and then straight up again, sitting upright.

Her head was tilted; she was thinking. ”Am I… going to be allowed to sleep next to you back in your village?” The matter was apparently of great importance to her; she did not fancy missing out on being this close to him again.

Plus she thought, glancing to the right side of her own body, which happened to be covered in mud form their lying down, it's not going to be easy to look innocent.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

”But I much prefer you like this.”

When she straightened back up a sigh escaped him that was pure... peace. His face shone, was radiant with a quiet happiness that locked the troubles of his world away. Remember, this was not the Razkar of later years, whose sole purpose was to reave and rend and take scalps. That Razkar was but a distant possibility back then: a being that lived to be the death of others. The boy he had been was what looked up at Ayatah, hands running up and down her sides with a look of pure adoration.

"I was thinking the same thing."

Another giggle that raised a smile on his face. It was fast becoming a sure way to do so. Then her face become more thoughtful; like him, she found rude reality intruding on their peaceful moment far from civilization. But it was much like fear and responsibility: run from them as far and as long as you want, but eventually and inevitably, they will still find you.

”Am I… going to be allowed to sleep next to you back in your village?”

Razkar's face darkened for a moment, but then the same easy smile came back to his face. Myrians were not... exactly a conservative people. Even unified into a single nation, they were too wild and primal for any meaningful taboo as far as sexuality and relationships went. Certain thing were expected, of course, but when males and females were in their bright and unbridled youth?

The unspoken commandment was: Thou shalt not waste it.

"Yes, you will." He said, as much a promise as a statement. He sat up, her naked breasts warm against his chest, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her again, as if to punctuate his words. "Tonight. Tomorrow. Until I must return to Taloba. As long as you wish."

There was a question in her eyes. One that was filled with fear; of rejection, of misunderstanding. He felt the same turgid emotion roil through him, but by the grace of Myri, Razkar knew he did not have all the answers. He sighed and rested his forehead against hers.

"I know not where this will lead... but I still wish to walk to trail to its ending."

Then he smacked her rear playfully, smirk she was so fond of dancing on his face.

"But for now, clothes!"

They dressed quickly, or as quickly as they could find the individual items. Mud and, yes, blood were the stains of the day, but this was nothing new to a Myrian. Razkar was impressed that even though she was a mixed blood, Ayatah had no problem with the viscera caked on her clothes... nor the fact they had coupled next to a freshly-slaughtered tiger.

When they were clothed again, he rifled through his pack, talking as he did.

"We need to find a pole, some... long branch." His words were fast and urgent now. The day was waning, the light with it, and they needed to move. "We can lash its legs together at the paws, put the pole under them and carry it home. We should be home by... a bell after sundown. Maybe earlier."

He tossed a roll of rough fabric to her and a skin of water.

"But first, wash and dress those." He nodded to the slashes and put up a hand before she could answer. "No argument. We don't want them to turn bad. I'll find a pole and some vines. We need to retrieve our arrows and weapons, too. Get ready."

And then he walked over and pecked her on the lips. Just like that, because he could, because he wanted to... and because she would let him.

"Hurry!"

[Ayatah]

The way he looked at her… she had never been looked upon in such a way before, but she found herself loving every moment, as if she were being praised simply for being her. Her fingers ran over his chest, light touched of nothing by affection and warmth.

Oh, how she wanted to stay there.

A small sigh of relief came to her when he confirmed she would be able to spend the night in his company. The light kiss that landed on her lips was received with a smile and her arms around his neck. ”Good. I didn’t want to have to sneak in the middle of the night.” Her eyebrows twitched upwards in just a fraction - a hint of her plans for them over the few days. Nakedness, mandatory.

But… something was echoing in the back of her mind. Questions, doubts. The intensity of their relationship, and the speed in which it had all happened, made her think of an old saying of her Great-Grandmothers’

A flame that is quick to burn is quick to die.

For her sake, Ayatah wished that this would not be that case.

"I know not where this will lead... but I still wish to walk to trail to its ending."

”Am I that easy to read?” She said in regards to how he had seemed to know the doubts that were playing on her mind. As he bought his forehead against hers, she inhaled his scent - how very familiar it was to her, now. She would never forget his scent.

Nothing else was said about their questionable future, but as he smacked her on the behind and mentioned clothes, Ayatah pinned him to the ground by his wrists. After stealing another kiss, she eventually dismounted him and began hunting for her clothes.


"We can lash its legs together at the paws, put the pole under them and carry it home. We should be home by... a bell after sundown. Maybe earlier."


She listened as he ran through the list of things that needed to be done. It was extensive, and she couldn’t help but wince as the list went on… and on… They had a lot to do, for sure. And not a huge amount of time to do it.

”You know,” she said as she pulled him back after their brief kiss, ”keep nagging like that and I won’t reward you for all this hard work when we get back to your clan.” But she was grinning, and after a few chimes, she allowed him to go about the business that needed to be done.

The slashes on her stomach had stopped bleeding a while ago, but they were still store. She winced and drew in a sharp breath as the bold water hit them. Gritting her teeth, she ran a hand over them quickly, making sure the dirt and mud had been removed. She dressed them crudely, being far from a medic. They were covered - and that was the best that she could do.

Next, she returned to the tree that… so much had happened under and amongst its branches. Whilst looking for their belongings, she touched the tree’s rough bark almost fondly. The weapons were fairly easy to find, standing out amongst the dirt and grass like a non-Myrian in the middle of Taloba. She bought them all to Razkar, laying out his bow and arrows on the ground for him to pick up when he was ready.

”Have you fond a pole?” She asked quietly, touching his back as she approached him, ”I can go to the basin and get reeds, if you like.”

Gods, she was exhausted. But they still had a fair way to go.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

”Have you fond a pole? I can go to the basin and get reeds, if you like.”

Razkar felt his chest swell at her lightest touch. It somehow... lifted him. Made him think larger thoughts. The world, not just the jungles of Falyndar, were less the dark and imposing thing with her next to him. The thought awed and scared him, such intensity of emotion after such little time.

"No need," he said, patting her hand and nodding to the thick vines curling aroung a nearby tree. He knew them well, having swung on more than his fair share when he was a boy. Well... and younger boy. "They'll do."

He turned and critically inspected her roughshod bandages. Not perfect, but serviceable. When they got back to the village, the healer would do a better job. He crouched down before her and pulled the cloth down... found himself wincing. Even now, the sight of her harmed cut into his insides like a dull blade. But she would live, and what was a Myrian without a few good scars?

He leaned forward and kissed her stomach under the bindings.

"You will be fine."

Then she felt her fingers stroking through his hair. Softly, tenderly, and he wanted to stay like that. He did not want to go, and his young mind saw in a flash the insane possibility of just staying here, the two of them, hunting and fishing and... living.

Razkar sighed. That would be running, and what good did that do? He held up the branch he had found, thick, fairly straight and seven foot long. "Lets get to work."

Work they did, and quickly. She heaved the tiger as best she could onto its side, catching the lengths of vine as he cut them free and tossed them to her. By the time he had reclaimed their arrows and weapons, she had trussed the togers paws together, two at a time, rady for the pole.

He threaded the branch between the dead legs was carefully as he could, then crouched low, planting one end of it on his shoulder. She did the same on the other end, eyes meeting his.

"One, two, three!"

Their legs strightened sharply and the sheer weight of the beast was baffling, especially since it was now dead. That always added a fair bit. They gritted their teeth but between the two of them, managed to get it up. It would be a long, wobbling journey... but they would make it.

Razkar turned and scanned around him. Weapons back in belts and across their backs, clothes back on bodies, wounds healed...

He smiled, though she could not see it.

Something dead... and something born.

He liked the sound of that. It was the work of only a few moments to find his bearings: these were his jungles, after all, those of his clan since time meant nothing. He pointed them in the right direction, south-east, and lead them away from the basin, back towards home.

The birds and insects watched the two Myrians vanish back into the green, leaving nothing but blackening blood and twin scents; one rough and male, another soft and female. Both happy.

Both lingering until the sun began to burrow under the trees beyond the lake.

[Ayatah]

His concern for her made Ayatah smile, especially how he winced upon seeing her battle wounds. It could have been worse - her body could have been beside the tiger. Or even more dire; both of their corpses.

Ayatah shuddered at the thought, and pushed the image out of her mind. It doesn’t even bare thinking about.

The chimes certainly seemed to fly past as the two of them worked fast and efficiently. The tiger was bound and the pole threaded through the beasts’ legs. It was an almighty creature, a true king of the jungle. The return journey would be back-breakingly hard, but they would manage, just.

As they staggered their way back, Ayatah’s mind was full of what had happened within the confines of the jungle. She had come with a person who could not have even called a friend - and now? The definition was still hazy, but their relationship had completely transformed into something quite beautiful and complicated.

And it had all happened so fast. It bewildered her that the two of them were strangers two days ago, not even aware of each other’s presence. It was near impossible for her to imagine returning to her own clan and not having that smirk, those tattoos and scars to look at.

There is always after. It was like their motto; though now, Ayatah was not sure what ‘after’ exactly was now. Before, it had been the killing of the tiger. Was it now when they returned back to his village? After they had both returned to their respective families? After what? There was no single circumstance that Ayatah could use as her point of reference, and it frightened her a little.

How could she be so fearful for something that she had had for mere bells? It was difficult to say, but Ayatah found herself deep in thought for nearly the entire journey, her brows furrowed as he led her back to his home. Many things were playing on her mind, yet at the same time, only one thing.

Him.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

The key to any exhausting physical labor, Razkar had found, was not to think about it. Have your mind elsewhere, and the body would plod onward. That was what he did as they picked and tramped their way through the jungle, the massive tiger swaying gently from the beam between them. The sun began to dip lower, light became scarcer, and he focused solely on his next step, nothing more.

But just because he wasn't thinking about it, did not mean he was not thinking at all.

What would come next? The eternal question, the one that beggared and ruined more passions and pairings than any other. Life in Mizahar was often a hard, brutish affair, but it could also be long. Myrians could live over a century. That was a lot of time to fill.

And already you're pondering this, his told himself, beam pressing against his bare shoulder, rubbing it more raw with each passing chime, a night ago you were unaware she even existed and now... and now...

Her silence spoke volumes. He knew her mind was turning over the same problem. But practical as he tried to be, Razkar could not bear to even envision telling her what had passed between them in that heated hour was just a fluke and never to be repeated. He could not see her crumpled, saddened face in his mind's eye without flinching as if struck.

So he would not. He would walk the trail...

The sun set, and darkness began to creep in around them. Moon and stars would cast nothing on the jungle floor, the canopy was far too thick. But as the last embers of sunlight died... there appeared a glow in the distance. Torches, and...

Razkar sniffed, then inhaled deeply, and laughed.

"Dinner!" He said happily, turning around as best he could to favor her with that smirk. "We're nearly home!"

Their pace quickened, amazingly enough, and by their noise and ruckus the village of the Shorn Skulls was alerted. By the time the two wounded young ones broke cover, Razkar's clan were emerging from longhouses to meet them. Concern and surprise became woops and war cries as they saw the vast dead shape they carried.

Young men and women waved weapons in the air, filling it with steel and proud, congratulating screams.

Elders did pretty much the same, the older ones simply beaming as, once again, the worth of the clan name was proven (if helped a little by the Scattered Bones, but that could be accepted... grudgingly).

And then he saw them. His sisters and brothers. His family. Even Mayla, on the outskirts as always, a glimmer of pride and satisfaction in ancient eyes.

His father. Zek. Who strode to his son when he and Ayatah finally lowered their load, and clapped his son on both shoulders.

"You return." He said simply, concerned eyes already dancing around for wounds... finding none. "And with your prize."

Razkar grinned, chest full and proud... and turned to look Ayatah in the eye.

"Yes. With a prize."

[Ayatah]

It was hard.

They were both so young - but the idea of simply labeling this as a… fling was not good enough. Ayatah had had flings before. They weren’t like this.

Nothing, in her life, had been like this.

We will have to discuss it. she thought ruefully. They were both realistic, practical individuals. But they had both lost themselves in their time in the jungle, lost in each other and conversation and kissing. It had to mean something - in the grand scheme of things, right?

He was quiet too, but Ayatah did not want to consider what was occupying his mind. A cold fear struck her. Suddenly, she was overwhelmed with the image of him telling her that she meant nothing to him - she was half Eypharian, how could she mean anything to a pureblooded Myrian?

It felt like a stab wound, but the horror sat with Ayatah for the rest of their journey. It was an old wound from her childhood, and although she had done her best to wear her blood proudly, she was still scared. Scared of not being good enough, not being Myrian enough. Although this fear was usually in regards to her clan, and how she did not want to disappoint them or bring shame to the Scattered Bones name.

But now her fear had transferred to Razkar. What if he did not want to be mated to a woman of dirtied blood? He had never treated her differently after knowing that she had part Eypharian. But he had noticed so quickly.

No A tiny, defiant voice told her. She thought back to how he had looked at her in the jungle - and how that had made her happier than… many other things in life.

She exhaled deeply, and pushed such horrifying thoughts out of her mind.

"We're nearly home!"

When he turned to smile to her, she sent one back to him - though knew he would not be fooled. She was tired, so to grin and jump excitedly was out of the question. But only her lips had formed the smile, her eyes had remained narrowed and in thought.

Enjoy whatever time there is left for you. She told herself, and when they emerged through the jungle - and she saw the celebrations, a real smile burst through her lips.

When the great tiger had been lowered to the ground, Ayatah stepped around it to stand beside him. A hand of hers fell to his wrists - a small gesture of thanks and pride of her own.

"Yes. With a prize."

As his eyes fell upon her, Ayatah found herself blushing - it was a thing she had done only once or twice before in her life. ”You should have seen him,” she said, their eyes lingering on each other just a fraction longer than they would have had nothing romantic been between them, ”he saved my life. Possibly twice.”

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

”You should have seen him. He saved my life. Possibly twice."

There was a ripple of pride and shock among the clan. Nodding heads and whispered comments. Hands reached out to clap Razkar on the back and his (sore) shoulder. He managed to smile through his teeth and not snap that it hurt, damnit!

Not that it was too difficult. The light in her eyes would take away any pain he felt right now. And he let his gaze linger, even after hers had flickered away. Zek's eyebrows began so slowly and inexorably rise...

"And she mine!" He said louder, so all would know her quality. Then he added with a chuckle. "But just the once!"

Another ripple, this time of laughter. Then the crowd parted a little, Lowax and the other Elders emerging. Males and females both stood aside for the venerated leaders of their clan, and Lowax favored her young warrior with a warm smile. Her eyes fell on the dead tiger, and she shook her head.

"I remember your mother bought one of these back once, when she was no older than you. Your actions do her memory proud, Razkar." Her words seemed to fill him like water into a leather skin. "And what shall you do with your prize?"

Razkar had been expecting this question, and had plenty of time to think on it. He kept his voice a touch louder so all could hear it.

"The bones of this jungle prince, all of them, down to toes and teeth, will go to honored Elder Mayla," he nodded to the old mage, strong for many decades in the Power of the Bones, and she nodded her thanks, "as payment for her services to me of the last year. The meat shall go to fee my family and my clan, so all my savor the strength of the beast!"

That brought a cheer from the crowd of Myrians, deep and appreciative for fine meat and the devoured soul of a worthy adversary. But Zek just crossed his arms, eyebrows now at the top of his head and mouth curled into a knowing smile. Razkar knew the question before he asked it, just as his wily father knew the answer.

"And what of the pelt, my son?"

Razkar relished that moment. He would look back on it in his quiet moment years from that day, when his life had shrunk to death and battle and he enjoyed every bloody moment of it... and he would remember there had been more to him. And that someone else had meant so much to him.

He grasped Ayatah's hand firmly, not caring who saw and in fact wanting them to see, to understand his intent. He turned to face her fully and lifted her hand... placing it over his chest.

"The pelt I gift to Ayatah of the Scattered Bones... without whom I would not stand here today."

And then, eyes lost in hers, he kissed her hand.

[Ayatah]

"But just the once!"

She joined in with his clans laughter, and playfully poked his chest, feigning annoyance, but her eyes and grin completely betrayed her true feeling; completely overwhelming happiness.

"I remember your mother bought one of these back once, when she was no older than you. Your actions do her memory proud, Razkar."

Ayatah froze. He had never mentioned his mother had died before. I do not even know how long it has been. It gave her a mixture of guilt for never asking the question - and still a dull faint of pride that could he still be him after such a loss.

It took her a moment to realize that his position had altered to facing her square on. She looked a little confused, and her head tilted famously as her hand was lifted to his chest

"The pelt I gift to Ayatah of the Scattered Bones... without whom I would not stand here today."

Some women might have jumped for joy, clapping their hands and leaping into the arms of the man who had offered to share such a wonderful prize. And it was, indeed wonderful - the whole pelt of a tiger was a luxurious item, something that a Myrian might share with a loved one to express the highest regard and affection.

Instead, Ayatah just… smiled. But her smile expressed gratitude and thanks and warmth in a way that she had never done so before. The hand snaked from his chest to the back of his neck; she stepped closer, and kissed him gently. It was different to when they had kissed earlier, full of lust and wide-eyed wonder of each other. This time, it was simple, and genuine. She was letting him know that, for as long as she could, she was choosing him - nobody else mattered almost, but the two of them. Ayatah had never wanted to portray so much feeling through a kiss, but as she smiled with his lips against hers, she prayed to the Goddess that he would understand her meaning.

With him so close to hers, Ayatah had almost forgotten that they stood with his clan around them. But she could not hear them, even if they were making noises

And if not, she certainly had another idea. A slightly more grand idea that a deeply moving kiss. The Scattered Bones had a tradition amongst themselves; one that symbolized much more to them on a personal level than simply separated the bones from the body of a victim.

Reaching up to his ear, she said something very quiet, ”I have something for you in return. I will give it to you later.” She wanted to be able to be able to explain the story behind it, and why a simple gesture would mean so much.

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Razkar]

"Not a word, father. Not one word."

"I don't recall saying anything, my son."

Razkar glared over at the older man, and every amused twitch on Zek's face belied his last sentence. The two of them were splattered and caked in dried blood, their work with the tiger dragging on for over a bell. But his father had been doing this for many decades, and to him, a tiger was no different than a deer. Larger, the fur thicker, the meat a little more gamey, yes, but all just meat and skin.

"Are you sure? No "I told you" comments on the horizon?"

Zek actually had the gall to look shocked, hand brushing his chest like a female. Razkar glared harder, for all the good it did.

"My son! I can't imagine why you'd think that!"

Another shank of meat was carved off and the bone and Zek placed it, dripping and succulent on a wooden tray. Sheema bustled in right on time, stopping onto to peck Razkar on the cheek and take the meat, calling over her shoulder on the way out the longhouse, "She's all patched up!"

Razkar nearly deflated from relief. After her last, enigmatic sentence in front of his clan, things had moved quickly. There were the usual roars of approval from his friends and family, but Lowax was a pragmatic woman, and did not waste much time with sentiment. There was skinning and cooking to be done, and Myrians did not ever shirk work.

So he had gone with his father and Lowax had taken charge of Ayatah, guiding her to the healer's longhouse. Ever since then, Razkar had been by his father's side... and they were nearly finished.

The tiger was stripped almost bare before them. It was so surreal to see it like this, half of its body skinned, muscles and tendons sheared away for cooking until only fat and ligaments were left on a shining white skeleton. Even the head looked positively alien, jaw and teeth more pronounced, eyes looking mad and out-of-place among yellow and red muscle...

"Almost there, boy," Zek said confidently, taking up his knife again, "Just a few more things..."

His father knew his work, and showed it well: the skeleton was intact and so was the pelt. Their arrows, dagger, ax and gladius had made slashes and cuts a-plenty, but nothing a needle and thread would not fix. Razkar followed his father's motions, aped his movements... and finally, the entire, thick, warmy, beautiful skin fell away.

Razkar and Zek hung the whole pelt across a beam, then stepped back to admire it.

"It'll need a night or two to dry," Zek said, glancing at his son with a ghostly smile, "Until you can give it to your woman, anyway. Good enough reason for her to stay, don't you think?"

Razkar opened his mouth, ready to query the accuracy of that "your woman" comment... then shut it again. Well, it was true, wasn't it? She was his. Or, more accurately considering their society, he was hers, but either way... would he share her? Hells no. Would he ignore or forsake her now? See previous answer. So... yes. For now, she was his woman.

"I think you are enjoying this too much."

A happy sigh from his father, and a broad, rough hand squeezed his shoulder. "Just looking forward to grandchil-"

Razkar made a strangled screaming noise and waved his arms madly, not even wanting to imagine the prospect of that yet. He was sure Ayatah would be feeling the same way.

Ayatah. He had not seen her in hours. That realization struck him now like a hammer, and he moved to the door.

"Is there anything further, father?"

"No. Mayla will get her dues tomorrow. The clan has their meat. Go."

Razkar did not need to be told twice. His search has hindered at every turn by friends and family stopping him, shaking his hand, embracing him, telling him old stories or just wanting to pass on their kudos. He was polite to all but his eyes were not often on their faces, always searching, scanning around, looking...

Then he saw her outside the healer's longhouse, helping with the bonfire that would roast the mountain of meat they had provided that night. All he did was lay eyes on her, and time... slowed.

She was radiant. By sun or torchlight, it did not matter. The pale beauty of her face, the high, sharp cheekbones. Her slightly-narrowed eyes and the curve of her mouth that made him stiffen with desire just with a gaze.

She turned his way as he walked towards her, and Razkar bowed low to his... yes... his woman. When he straightened back up from the formal greeting, there was a mischievous smirk on his face.

"And how does the lady fare?"