SOUL OF FLAMES

chapter two: yacondi pears

Cold sunlight filtered through the window, rays dancing over Khair's eyelids. Stirring slowly, Khair's eyes fluttered open, slowly stretching her legs. Leila's cheeks rested against her side, slumbering deeply. Leila was so beautiful when she slept. Not wanting to disturb the peace highlighting her facial features, Khair softly slipped out of Leila's embrace.

Silently she slid on leather riding pants, buttoning them over her stomach. Then slipping on a cotton blouse, she tied the strand of the fabric of her breasts into a bow. Brushing out her hair and putting it up with a clip, Khair gave one last glance to Leila who continued to sleep deeply.

Padding down the stairs, Khair slipped on her boots and swung her fur cape over her shoulders, tieing it below her neck. Thank god, it was not snowing. Leo, the family's mare, always got skittish when the grown was coated in powder. Right before exiting out the front, Khair fingers wrapped around an aged basket, crafted from young tree sprouts by their mother.

Trudging through the bitter, frosty air towards the stables, Khair slipped her riding gloves on, regretting her decision to come to the market at such an early, cold time of the morning. Arriving at Leo's stall, she brushed her gloved fingers through his mane, brushed her face against his long neck.

"Goodmorning, boy," Khair smiled, removing his coat and preparing him for the 1/2 hour ride. At Leo's small neigh, Khair empathetically rubbed his face.

"I know. I know it's cold. But if you're good, I'll buy a fresh piece of fruit. How does that sound?" Khair bartered with an animal who neither understood nor could speak.

Regardless, Khair took his slow blink as an affirmative and jumped to mount Leo's saddle. Tapping Leo's side twice with her ankle, they set off towards the market.

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Yacond, though slightly poorer than its neighboring villages, was full of soul and hardworking people. One could easily pick that up with a quick glance at the market. Rosy-cheeked juveniles, children of shop-owners, ran around in disorder, tackling each other, dancing. The hot, sugary scent of saffron milk and cardamom cocoa permeated the air, wafting under everyone's noses. The busy chatter of the shop keepers and eager patrons combined to create a peaceful hum.

The market itself consisted of twisted and tangly rows of small huts constructed of thick sugar cane and logs. Hand-painted signs adorned the front of the huts, beautiful shop names outlined in homemade paints, pastes of crushed berries and flowers.

Khair smiled. Few of her mundane tasks brought her joy, but this, this brought her happiness. Khair set out to a produce stand, weaving her way around a group of children playing tag. Walking, she noticed a more decrepit than usual looking shack, its structure crumbling at the pace. An aged thick poster was propped on the ground near the entrance, reading 'Bagra's l Bobbles and Books'. Khair raised her eyebrows at the obviously forced alliteration but made a mental note to visit the hut on her way back. Maybe she could afford herself a filthy book as an apology gift for Fhai.

"Khair! Is that you? I have fresh pears, just plucked from the stem." A deep voice hollered in her direction, shaking Khair out of her daze. Looking over, Khair spotted her oh-so-familiar produce stand run by a loving middle-aged Yacondi man, Avid, and his pre-teenage children. After their mother had passed, the family poured their heart and soul into the stand, aptly called Farah's Fruits, after the late matriarch. Empathizing with the family's situation, Khair never failed to visit the shack, and adamantly refused any discounts Avid tried to force onto her.

Walking towards him, basket in hand, Khair let out a huge smile. Surveying the huge selection of pears Khair indicated that she wanted eight of them.

"So many? You are too good for us," Avid affectionately responded, gathering the pears into a muslin bag and handing to his younger son to tie.

"Some for eating, one for Leo, some for baking. Leila has recently taken up learning how to make tarts," Khair informed him, receiving the bag from the young boy, who blushed deeply at her affectionate smile as he counted her payment.

Bidding them a lovely day, Khair turned on her heel, searching for the shack she had just passed. But the door was suddenly shut and the sign turned around. When had that happened in the 5 minutes she had been away.

Approaching the shack cautiously, Khair lifted a fist towards the doors, moving to knock. But no one responded. Frowning, Khair pressed her ear again three scratchy straw door, hoping to hear voices she could call out to, but she was met with silence. If the door had just been opened with the sign facing the crowd, then surely someone was inside?

Suddenly uncharacteristically desperate, Khair pushed the door inward, stumbling into the shack. Khair was met with a gust of hot air that coated her face, moisture forming on her upper lip. A cloying scent lingered, sourced from burning incense, Khair deduced. The walls of the shack were lined with hanging velvet tapestries, rouge and navy colors, with gold accents. On the far wall, a large bookshelf stood, more wide than tall, filled with hundreds of books- their spines appearing ancient, their titles pressed in archaic and gilded fonts. The floor was lined with wonderfully soft Parsikki rugs, on top of which rest various tables and vintage living furniture. Khair suddenly wondered if she had stepped into a different country.

Motion alerted Khair of a desk, piled high with various folders, books, and empty dishware. Behind the desk study a considerably old woman, with grey coily hair and tanned wrinkled skin. Despite her hunched framed, she wore a gown, a beautiful burnt orange color, but the fashion and it's stitching made Khair wonder if it was from another time. Her eyes were so dark, almost black, as they flicked across the page in front of her. And then they flicked up at her, analyzing her body, her stature, her face.

"Oh dearie, good of you to come- you're a looker that's for sure," Then, quickly looking back down at the book in her hand, she mumbled a string of words, among which Khair was sure she heard the words "bait".

"Hello? Do you have romance books?" Khair prompted, waving her hand, trying to get the batty woman's attention.

The woman ignored her, now grabbing an inkpot and filament from her desk and furiously scribbling something down in a journal that looked as if it had existed since the dawn of time, with odd, mix-matched papers flying out of it everywhere. Muttering to herself, the woman's voice was slowly becoming louder, and writing growing more erratic and fervent across the page. At one point, Khair could have sworn the woman was beginning to chant or pray in a different language. Khair took one last glance at the interior and decided maybe it was best if she were to leave- she could always ride to the book shop in Jakor centre.

Just as she was about the turn, the woman suddenly, and loudly, shut her journal, shoved her inkpot away, and tucked the silver wirey bits of her hair behind her ears. Pushing her cracked glasses up her crooked nose bridged, she peered at her, her shrewd gaze dwarfing Khair.

Then she addressed Khair, with perfect authentic pronunciation, emphasizing the usually dormant 'h' and rolling the 'r', prolonging it with meaningful intent.

"Khair,"

Had she introduced herself to the lady?

"How would you like to visit the other dimension?"

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Hope you liked this one!! 

Khair's name is pronounced like 'Care', except it has more of a thick K sound at the beginning and a rolled r at the end. So maybe more like 'Cahare' but with a thick, guttural accent.

Khair is 19 (going onto 20 soon), Leila just turned 16, Fhai is 17 1/2

}