Son of the Sun: An Inca Love Story

Before the Moon Rises

Isabella Veliane Pizarro

The next day is when I am finally introduced to a few significant people of this marvelous city and am introduced to the work that I'll have to do to contribute to their generosity for allowing me to stay in their sacred land. Kanan doesn't like the thought of me doing any work it seems, with his unpleasant sighs and eye rolls, but he's not a fool. He knows I have to earn his people's trust somehow and I can't do that while acting as if I'm better than them all.

For the rest of the day yesterday, Kanan taught me more of his language and showed me around the well-built village while gesturing to the few people he knew I would get along with at some point. The bread maker's a sweet old man with a bright, nearly toothless smile on his withered face, and a well-known farmer that grew up with Kanan had calloused hands and rich brown skin. He greeted me with a kiss to the cheek and lovingly commented on my beauty, according to Kanan who stood by my side proudly, and even offered to have me over for lunch sometime soon with him and his wife. I accepted the offer immediately, already in love with the idea.

The rest of his people, however, weren't as easy to please.

I gained more than a few angry glares from women being displeased with me for standing so close to Kanan and living in his home, but I have no choice. Wherever I go, Kanan's there to protect me, and I don't mind it, seeing as I don't trust anyone in this village. For now, I don't want a room. I just want to be near him.

There's still a lot for the both of us to talk about as soon as we get the opportunity to. I still want to know who Kanan is, why he is referred to as Sapa, where his family is, and if the man in my dream from the previous night has any significance to him. The sun god didn't visit my dreams last night, and for some odd reason, it upset me in the morning. I know he said he'd have to wait a bit to regain his energy, but I have so many questions . . . questions that I need answered from either of them.

"Ready?" Kanan asks, his language slowly becoming easier to understand the more he teaches it to me. He stretches his hand out towards me right before we descend the tall steps in front of his home.

"Ready," I agree, placing my hand in his.

Kanan smiles and tugs me along behind him, down the front steps. He leads me across the courtyard of early risers and over to a small stone hut with long twines of golden straw across the top as a roof. A small woman, perhaps ten and five years older than I, wrapped in a rainbow of colors across her shoulders, stands out front, sweeping her porch. Flowers sprout beautifully out of her window in a small box covered in rich soil and healthy green vines wrap themselves around the outside of her small hut in decoration.

The woman looks up at us the closer we grow, and she quickly places the wooden broom in the entryway of her home at the sight of us. When she turns back to us, her gaze falls on me right away, but she doesn't forget her place.

"Sapa Kanan," she says, bowing her head once.

"Nina," Kanan greets back, nodding at her. She straightens back up instantly. "I'd like you to meet Isabella. Isabella, this is Nina, the weaver friend I told you about."

I smile at her openly, hoping to cover my nervousness with a friendly expression. She tilts her head curiously but smiles back, offering me a bow as well. And of course, being the fool that I am, I think nothing of it when I bow back at her and bend my knee in a curtsy, unsure of what else to do. Do they curtsy here?

Both of them chuckle at my inexperience, their grins as wide as the forest encasing their land of prosperity. The heat rises in my flaming cheeks, and I hide part of my body behind Kanan's broad one, eliciting another delightful laugh as warm as the sun.