"Celisae."
I roll over, pulling my blankets tighter around me.
"Celisae."
My shoulder shakes, then stops. Then it shakes again.
"Celisae, wake up!" A hoarse whisper breaks through the darkness.
I make a humming noise, scooting further away from the disturbance. Pain radiates through my hip when I turn onto my side. The pulsing sensation steadily wakes me up.
"Celisae!" If the voice weren't quiet, I imagine it'd be yelling.
My eyes crack open to a dark blur. I'm in my cave, and the sun is just barely breaking the horizon.
"Celisae, I do not have time for this. Wake. Up."
Slowly, I turn my head. Ixek crouches beside me, irritation hardened on his face. I try to sit up, but wince in the process. Ixek's scowl melts into confusion. Then, I detect a flash of concern in his eyes.
"Are... you alright?" he asks.
I nod. Exhaustion threatens to pull me back under the covers, back into sleep. "Fine. New parcel?"
Ixek stares at me for a moment. His eyes drift to my arm poking out from under the covers as I hold myself up. Deep scratches carve bloody-crusted channels along it.
"What happened?" His voice holds no inflection, and I can't tell if he's stunned or asking as a perfunctory measure.
"I... don't know." I swallow and hedge on. "Perhaps I had a bad dream."
"A bad dream?" Ixek's voice sounds like it's mountain peaks away from my cave.
"Yes." I cough to clear my throat. "I must've scratched myself in my sleep."
Ixek's eyes narrow. The story rings false even to my own ears, but he doesn't press it further. Instead, he simply reaches into his pocket and places a cotton cloth in my hand.
"I'll return tonight," he says. "I need the parcel by sundown tomorrow." Ixek slips away before I process his request.
My gaze drops to the cotton in my hands. It'd be so easy to open it, to find out once and for all what's inside. But I can't bring myself to do so. I can't betray Nal m'se. I can't break my word.
Before temptation overcomes me, I slink to the other side of the room. My side screams from the movement. After tucking the cotton into my bag, I hide behind the curtain in my room to inspect my skin. The light isn't very strong, but already, I can make out a nasty bruise on my hip and rib cage. I drop my tunic and lie down again, catching the last restful minutes I can before my day begins.
***
The next two days pass in a blur. I don't have to move much to my relief. I finish my last orders of fabric and remain near the camp so I don't have to exert myself too much. Mother will have to make due for two days without me. I just hope that she has more sense than to leave the cave in search of food and water.
The first evening, I leave my cave to weave the moonlight I collected. It creates another few sections of the cloak. But when I try to align all the squares I've weaved so far, I realize I'm lacking just a little more. I pack them up again, resolving to embark on one more scavenging mission.
Anxiety churns in my gut the next night, when Ixek said he'd come for the sunlight parcel. Though I'm injured and I'd love to just stay in bed, sleep off my injury, I know it's better to get the last bits of moonlight now, rather than wait. The next half moon is peeking around the corner; I'm reminded of it every time I look at the moon and another sliver has been cut away.
YOU ARE READING
Every Glistening Night
FantasyCelisae's life has always been a series of compromises. She spends most of her time with her tribe, yet she blends into the background, as if she weren't present at all. The garments she weaves are far more skillful than the others, though she dare...