Dark Eros

16

A fire was lit, the smell of sweet scented oils permeated the air. Joyous shouts of celebration were heard as people danced, throwing their offerings into the fire and singing hymns. The moon was high in the sky, larger than it had ever been in Fumnaya's eyes.

The clouds were gathering, rain threatened to pour but it did not stop the fluttering excitement. Winter harvest was the marking of the end of the year and also that of the beginning of a new year.

Brown skin gleamed, some covered in paints, others in oils. People ate fruit and rice mashed with beans and meat by hand. Swallowing down sweet wines. The princesses danced with conviction, rejoicing in the celebration of their people.

It all seemed new to Fumnaya, though he had seen this very night played out constantly since he was old enough to remember. He could only attribute his newfound awakening to one person: Ife.

He sat in his throne and Ife sat beside, leaning into his legs, her eyes watching the dancing people with amusement.

He reached down and ran a hand down her hair, gently caressing her shoulder, finding comfort in touching her. She did not push him hand away, or protest but merely leaned into his touch. His heart soared at the act.

Though it was a night to celebrate, and he was in a jovial mood, but somewhere inside him, he felt unease. Something felt...wrong. His worry was mounting, growing steadily as the night ensued. He turned his eyes to his mother and father, watching as they sat beside him on their thrones, smile on their faces. And still, gazing on them did not ease his worry.

Someone suddenly called for the king to join the dance. The queen jumped from her throne, a large smile on her face as she urged the king to do so. He moved to get up, but his movements were slow, sluggish.

Fumnaya noticed, and his heart suddenly lurched in his chest. The feeling caught him by surprise. He had never seen his father look so weak. He leaned back, keeping his eyes on his father as he gripped his mother's hand. Watching still as they began to dance, their feet hitting the earth as they jumped high, raising their hands in loud claps.

Hymns escaped their lips as they circled the fire. The sound of feet stomping loudly on dirt, crushing dying grass suddenly sounded louder than it seemed. The pounding of his heart was a growing, almost explosive conundrum in his ears. He clutched his chest, the pounding there so insistent.

Suddenly Ife stiffened underneath his hand. He looked down at her, noticing the rigid set to her back, the stiffness in her shoulders. He grabbed her by her upper arm, pulling her around in face him. The action took her by surprise and she glanced up at him, wide eyed before quickly looking away, staring at his chest. He knew then that she felt it too, the growing sense that something was wrong.

"Ife." He called out over the sound of the loud drums and music being made. He needed to know that he was not the only one that felt unsettled. A deep boom of laughter caught his attention and he looked up, his eyes landing on his father once more, seeing that he was moving slower, his breathing escalated. He slid to the edge of his seat before shifting his attention to Ife once more.

"Ife," he called again, this time more urgent, more demanding.

She still refused to meet his eyes. He grabbed her chin in his hands but she snatched away and moved as if to run but he grabbed her arm, yanking her between his legs. He gripped her chin with his free hand, forcing her to look into his eyes. And there he saw exactly what he had expected. The same emotion that was filling his chest. Worry, anxiety, unease...dread. But in her eyes there was something else, something more.

A knowing look.

He shook his head in denial before glancing at his father once more. The fire seemed higher, brighter. The smoke emanating from it more dense in the surrounding darkness.

He stood then, pulling Ife up with him, his hold on her iron clad. He met her eyes once more, saw the sadness in them and he knew. He knew that the feeling bubbling, building in the pit of his stomach was not his imagination. "Ife," he repeated, this time desperate for what she knew, commanding in his tone, virtually begging for the answer to his heightened senses.

She shook her at him before looking toward the fire, her eyes staring. He followed her line of sight, his eyes falling on his father.

Suddenly his father froze, raising a clenched fist to his chest, close to his heart before he opened his mouth as if to scream.

A boom of thunder, accompanied by a violent string of lightening filled the sky, drowning out the king's cries. Fumnaya's grip on Ife loosened and he released her, running forward just as his father fell to his knees, heavy rain pelting down on those still dancing, dousing out the fire.

The queen screamed as the king rolled to his back, gasping, his eyes growing dull, hitting at his chest for relief. She fell to her knees beside him, her golden bangles ringing as she reached for him, tears in her eyes. Fumnaya fell to his knees beside her, grabbing at his father, cradling him, screaming for him to react.

But the king found no relief and suddenly his gasping stopped, his eyes grew empty, his hand stopped moving. Queen Adae slapped at his bare chest, shouting his names, tears racing down her cheeks.

Fumnaya leaned forward, to shocked to shed tears, his grief too strong, resting his forehead on his fathers. The sound of screams, his sisters voices, cries and hurried prayer's ensued. Other fell to their knees at the loss of the king, others began a new dance, singing a mourning hymn, making music of a different tune. All the while the rain grew colder, the sky grew darker, the rainfall heavier, the wind cooler.

Ife sank to her knees weakly, her eyes wide. She had seen this, she had known that it was coming and yet the sight was still so much more frightening than any vision or dream. The heavy rainfall seemed to envelope the once joyous festivities, thunder crying it protest across the sky.

Despite the thick on pouring, she felt eyes on her, a familiar gaze that she returned. Fumnaya stared at her from where he knelled, despair in his eyes, anger...fear and betrayal.