Foretold

Chapter 9

Vasiliki stood in the clearing with Alex. He held her in his arms as the sun shone down on her inky black hair, illuminating the vast green depths of her eyes. He brushed his thumb along her cheek, admiring the tanned sleekness of her form. She smiled at him.

He breathed deeply taking in the scent of the large blossoms, which grew from the vines twined about the trees of the clearing. His attention was drawn away from the azure sky above and the feral beauty of the clearing.

Vasiliki was putting her arms around his neck and resting her head against his shoulder. “Alex?”

He felt giddy with her scent so close to him. She was an intoxicating mixture of the outdoor smells and flowers. Something he hadn’t expected her to smell like. After all, she lived in a tribe of women who disdained all notions of lady-like behavior. Thinking about it, he was surprised they even wore dresses instead of some of the skimpy clothing he associated with the Amazons – a tribe that was the closest thing to the Praelia that he could conceive of.

“Alex!” Vasiliki was pressed up against him tightly now, and she was giving him a concerned look.

He gazed at her dazedly a moment. “Yes? What?”

“You had such a distant look in your eyes just now… You worried me.” She whispered tracing his high cheekbones with a delicate, deft finger.

His lips curved into a smile. “I was just thinking.”

She smiled back, a sweet, delicate smile. “About what?”

“About you. About us.” He blushed. “You don’t exactly fit the mold.”

“Mold?” She frowned, looking into his deep, dark eyes.

“Yes. You see, we had legends about a tribe of women who believed very similarly to you. They shunned and hated men and their society was much like yours, if myth is to be believed. Only… Whenever our culture represents them…” He cleared his throat, face flushed. He looked down, not meeting her gaze.

“What?” She coaxed the answer from him.

“Well, they’re hardly wearing anything.” He blurted, face crimson. “And… You don’t really fit that depiction… I mean… You’re not even wearing a man’s clothes. You’re wearing a… A dress…” He stammered.

Vasiliki blushed. “Your culture would dare to show a woman wearing so little?”

He moved away from her then. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he scuffed a bare foot along the jungle’s damp, leaf-strewn floor. “Yeah… Unfortunately. And worse, sometimes.”

“And you would look at these… monstrosities?” Her voice quivered as she asked the question.

“No!” He raised his hands. “No! I avoid the impropriety of my culture…” He stopped, looking down. “It makes me sad to know how depraved Earth’s culture is.”