Fatelle wasn't like other Star Children. True, her blood was pure, but her hair was the color of flames and her eyes were dark brown. Her skin was ruddy under the dirt. Her skin was soft, but her hair was not. It was tangled and shot in all directions like wires. She had seen five winters, but she wasn't dressed like any child in the new world.
Her skirt was ripped so that her entire knee was exposed. The bodice had no sleeves and one side was missing a strap. She had fake jewelry and bare feet even when traveling. Her nails were never cut. They were only shortened when they broke. Her teeth were crooked and yellow.
Fatelle banished Warrior and he was happy to go. He only knew Fatelle was performing another clandestine ceremony and wished to be as far from the smog-like incense as possible. Yuanshi and Camilia were to witness the union. Fatelle explained to Jonah that he must not repeat what he saw in the ceremony and, though she was much like a child, her words created terror in Jonah's wee head and he didn't dare repeat any of it.
This woman-child put her hand out and beckoned Lightening forward. Lightening gave his ceremonial robe to Yuanshi, as he would have to wear it for the wedding. Fatelle drew him into the teepee and sat opposite a fire. The incense was oppressive.
"Rasha, my brother," she said. "How are you enduring?"
Lightening remained quiet. He wasn't surprised she knew. Rather, he wasn't going to confess guilt until he knew the charges.
"The rashaman is fierce in your blood. Dagmar is my grandfather's sister. Shawna has the rashaman in her blood too, but she doesn't utilize it. You let it beat in your head. You're used to its rhythm. It helps you fight and it protects you. I'm linked with you always."
Lightening eyed Fatelle. Father had been similar, speaking to him as though they were old friends. But Father was manipulative. Lightening was careful to keep control.
"You didn't cry like normal babes. You were much older than the rest when you were born. You knew before Shawna explained that you were the only child of Constana the Great. You fight your blood, but you must stop."
Trouble played on his brow. The perfume of smoke filled his lungs. The fires had pleasing fragrances and the embers glowed fluorescent red. Flames snapped. Fatelle was burning cedar.
She smiled with her eyes, but her face was placid. "Even as I advise you, I know that you won't heed me. We're too dull for you. Stupid, I believe you say. Idiots." She gave him a small smile, but it was unsettling against those ancient eyes. "Don't worry of it. Your daughter will embrace you."
Lightening arched his eyebrow.
"But enough of the future," she said. "Enough time has lapsed to convince Rhysya that you have been initiated. Flex your hand so she might think your symbol new."
"Fatelle," he interrupted her.
She dropped the curtain.
"You've always known of me?"
"Always."
"Why haven't you told your people of me?"
"Thundonia is your home. It's predicted in the scrolls."
He knew that she knew that he had them. He'd read them thoroughly many times. "No, it's not."
Fatelle wrinkled her brow. "You've been reading with your eyes too long. Come," she said, "your wife awaits you. I trust you brought your robes."
Lightening made a point of flexing his left hand. Rhysya glowed as she knelt feet from him. Once Lightening was changed, he lowered himself next to Rhysya. She was biting the left side of her lower lip. Rhysya put out her right hand for Fatelle and Lightening gave his left. She had a knife that had been heating in the fire of the inner sanctum.
"Always the bloods must be joined with those who wish to be one. You have united to mate and have formed a new being, so in the eyes of the heavens, you are already of one blood. This is a formality. The heavens smile upon your fruitful mating and will continue to grant you bountiful unions."
Fatelle took the knife in her hand and cut Rhysya's palm open. A tear rolled down her cheek, but she didn't cry. "Rhysya, I split your hand so that your blood may run in valleys and crevices to give life when his cannot."
Fatelle then took the same knife and ran it over Lightening's fingers and palm. Only his fingers bled. Lightening was used to the plume-like sting. "Son of all, I split your hand so that your blood may run over mountains and plateaus when hers cannot."
Fatelle laid his hand on top of Rhysya's, their blood like an adhesive, bonding their hands together. Fatelle laid a white cloth over their hands and tied the ends together. "Always together you shall be, always there for the other's use. Always remember the other."
She shifted the hands so that Rhysya's hand was now on top and recited each verse again; Rhysya's blood now over the mountains and Lightening's now filling the valleys. Fatelle then put the hands up vertically.
"Each hand is now equal and shall forever remain thus. At times of imbalance, bring one another back to the center, back to this moment, and forgive for the imbalance. Your bloods are now one. You must show the heavens and all witnesses that you are one and have always been."
Rhysya nor Lightening had ever been to a wedding (they were highly private affairs), but they both knew what was next. Lightening now understood why it was recommended to mate several times before marriage.
He kissed Rhysya on the lips and drew her near, all the while their hands remained bound together. Both were dressed in the ceremonial garb, but neither wore the underdress. The folds were slipped back and Rhysya was pulled onto Lightening's lap. Her legs were wrapped around Lightening's waist, her feet locking them together.
Rhysya stifled the moan, rubbing her body against him, wondering what they had to look like to Camilia, Yuanshi and poor little Jonah. Fatelle stared in regular boredom. She was the Prime Rashaman and no one forced her toward marriage. She was glad.
Lightening and Rhysya were both red in the face from embarrassment, but they decided the coupling was satisfactory and parted.
"You're now husband and wife in every way. I will swear on my life that you're a good match and that the heavens approve of you."
YOU ARE READING
The Son of Thunder
Science FictionAn old war that will not ends haunts Lightening's life. Since the end of the first world, rashamen have predicted the birth of a savior. Lightening has no interest in the prophecy, but the prophecy doesn't care. He is being forced to choose between...