Harvest of Travel - Chapter 4 - A'mara Books

4

(Fenjaday, cont.)

Hailu, X’lea – Buccaneer Casino

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Across the way, but on the opposite side of the casino, Celna Dellan sat on a stool on her balcony, gazing towards the city of Hailu, only a stone’s throw away from the Buccaneer.

She ate a light snack, more out of need than of actual hunger. She was rarely hungry after dancing, but she knew she needed to eat some protein if she was to avoid feeling nauseously hungry by morning.

Sometimes, especially when something unpleasant had happened, like with Tilo this evening, Celna mused about how she got into dancing in the first place.

Celna and Seri had defied their mothers and snuck in to watch their first casino dancer performance. Both of them had instantly fallen in love with all the sequins, glitter and feathers. From then on, they snuck in whenever they could manage it, mesmerized by the beautiful ladies.

Innocent as Celna was at the time, she hadn’t even noticed how scantily clad the ladies were, didn’t care about the occasional “costume malfunction” that allowed more to be seen than was normally allowed during the early hours. All she knew was that she wanted to dance.

Soon, their mothers worked out where they kept sneaking off to which started the begging phase. She and Seri had begged their mothers for weeks thereafter to be allowed to learn to dance.

“Well, if I can’t dance, I want to be an A’mara like Julleon!” Selna had finally said, putting into words the alternate dream she had tried to suppress, knowing her mother wasn’t willing to send another child to Irola.

“You can’t be A’mara in X’lea,” her mother reminded Celna and with a quick chat to her sister, Aunt Selna, they agreed that the girls could take up ballet. Celna laughed at the memory. Her mother and aunt had hoped they would grow up to wear tutus instead of sequin-and-feather-adorned underwear on a glittering stage.

“You can hardly be surprised,” her father had said. “The Casino is all she’s ever known.”

“That’s what saddens me,” her mother had replied.

Celna had more of an idea why it saddened her mother now, but it didn’t sadden her at all. She didn’t feel cheapened or sexualized. She felt empowered, beautiful and graceful. She loved dancing.

She watched a large ship pulling out of the Port of Hailu. She loved this view. It almost made up for having so many people around her all the time.

She sighed, especially thinking about how one stupid man could lessen her enjoyment of the evening – after the fact. She had heard that Tilo’s father was a rapist, killed in his final horrible act, and that Tilo himself wasn’t much better, despite the attempts of his step-father to train him to a better path.

Celna had gone on a few dates with Tilo. Then he had become demanding, trying to bully her into his bed. When she refused, he’d joked that she’d one day wake up in his bed anyway. That’s when she knew she had to keep her distance. And that was when Tilo became obsessed.

♥

Irola – A’mara Complex

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Julleon Dellan walked through the lantern-illumined atrium. He looked at the iridescent fish shimmering in the dim glow, but he didn’t really see them.

He thought about his family. There were his many siblings and cousins in X’lea. Although he had just visited them for the Solstice, talking with Peri Harmon today had brought the memory crashing back to him. Sometimes he regretted the decision made long ago to go with his aunt and uncle to Irola for his A’mara training. He had been too young, but so excited.

After numerous attacks on Aunt Melia and Uncle Yuri, they had finally left Irola, preferring the relative solitude of the Sisters of Vasana in Avicen. He wasn’t sure if either of them trained their leya skills anymore. He didn’t even know if any of his cousins there trained.

Julleon was grateful that he had trained as A’mara, but sometimes it felt that his heart was divided into three parts: the part that belonged in Irola, where he’d lived for over twenty years now, the part that belonged with most of his family in X’lea, and the part that belonged with his aunt and uncle in Avicen.

PC Peri Harmon reminded him of his roots, the ones that had run deep in Hailu’s history. She knew his family, though she had to be at least three years older than him to even qualify for her office.

Julleon realized instinctively that Peri was someone he could imagine getting along with very well. But at the same time, if he were to become anything more than an acquaintance, it could lead her to being recalled – simply for what he was. No matter what, he couldn’t do that to her.

He looked at the illumined chrono on the wall. It was later than he’d realized. He needed to get to bed if he had any chance of getting up in time to meet Peri.

♥

Hailu, X’lea – Buccaneer Casino

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Approaching midnight, Yurit Dellan still waited by the Buccaneer’s holding cell. Built for those occasions when a client was too drunk or violent to handle him or herself in the casino, tonight, it was occupied by Tilo Winters Martinis, the man that had threatened his sister again.

Anger burned hot in him as he waited for the man’s step-father to come and pay the fine for release. He feared there may come a day when a holding cell wouldn’t be enough for Tilo. If the man ever actually harmed his sister, Tilo would leave on a stretcher, but he couldn’t guarantee the man would still be breathing.

A hoverbil finally pulled up. Iyan Martinis stepped out and approached. He handed Yurit some money.

“The fine has doubled,” Yurit informed.

Iyan handed him more money.

“I’m sorry my step-son caused problems again tonight,” the man apologized.

“Next time, Mr. Martinis, I will hand him over to the police,” Yurit threatened. “Tilo was banned from the Buccaneer months ago. Yet, he continues to trespass, continues to threaten my sister.”

“I’m sorry,” Iyan repeated.

“It’s Tilo who needs to be sorry,” Yurit growled, opening the cell and escorting the pair to the waiting hoverbil.

“Thank you,” Iyan said as Yurit helped force Tilo into the back seat.

“I will be frank with you, Mr. Martinis,” Yurit said. “You need to stop doting on him – he needs to learn that his actions have real consequences if he is to avoid the fate of his father.”

Iyan nodded. “I know this, but his mother won’t let me be what I need to be for him. She has never recovered from the loss of his father, the scoundrel he was. I am but a poor second – as much as I love her.”

“I’m sorry,” Yurit said, feeling the hopelessness of inevitability. “Then prepare yourself for dealing with her heartbreak. If this young man does not reform, the very best we can hope for is a long life behind bars.”

Iyan nodded again, then drove off.

Yurit wondered whether his gift of foresight was rearing its ugly head again.