Kalon

Chapter Ninety-Eight: Jumi

Galactic Quadrant: Darna Quadrant

Ruling Government: Talum Merchant Federation

Solar System: D-447

Planet: Ora

Location: Tarvashal, middle residential district, The Terrarium

Thoughts swirl from the back of my mind, bubbling up, wondering now why there is even less difference between Luna and the horned woman. Who is she really, why does she not let me speak of her existence?

"My hair does have streaks of black that I got from my father, the white I owe to my mother though."

Her mother? No, the horned woman looks identical to her, except the horns and color of their eyes.

"Your eyes, are they really purple?" I ask her, peering close to her face as she looks at me strangely. My hands pull her face close to me, pushing back the hair of her forehead, no horns, no sign of them. That doesn't mean much though, the horns grew larger on the horned woman, perhaps they haven't started to grow yet.

"Yes?" she begins, pulling back slightly, "Why, what's gotten into you?"

My eyes fall to the table, then the only difference between her and the horned woman is still the horns and the color of their eyes, and perhaps the streaks of black Luna spoke of. I don't understand. This might be an opportunity to speak about it though. The Etherius Prism Flower seems to block Krotha, even letting me say her name. Luna deserves to know. There must be a reason that the horned woman looks like Luna. A reason that she always appears when Luna needs her. Maybe Luna has answers.

"Luna," I say, turning my eyes from the table and finding her gaze, "Before we met, I dreamed of…"

My eyes bulge as my chest tightens like a hand grips my heart directly. Is this her doing? The phantom hand grasps firmer, my vision blurring for a moment. It must be. So, even with the flower, the horned woman's pull over me is not severed. I know what comes next if I try. Silence must follow. If I keep trying, it will only worry Luna like other times I've tried in vain. Making me look like I have gone mad.

"Kalon?" Luna asks, leaning forward more, her hand brushing my leg.

"I'm fine, we should eat," I say, avoiding her gaze.

Her eyes fill with disappointment, but she tries to hide it for my sake. She does not attack me for not telling her something, guilt crawls up my back and rests on my shoulders as I realize, I would not have done the same. If the situations were reversed, I would have been very cold to her. My jaw tenses, something strange welling up, needing to be said.

"Luna," I begin again, "I am sorry for being so quick to judge you… harshly as you said. You deserve better than that. Some things like you said, are difficult to share." I wish she knew how difficult, I have tried many times to tell her, yet the horned woman will not allow it. Perhaps I need to find a way to communicate with her, to find out her secrets. Why she is so attached to Luna.

Luna's eyes blink at me, my face feels flushed, my finger taps on my leg, Kuwathi rarely apologize in such a way. It is seen as weak. Especially given the context. She does not shame me by speaking on it further though, which I am glad for.

"Do you have a favorite food?" she asks me, changing the subject, a small smile on her lips, her hand pulling up a holo display, "This place has many wonderful chefs."

"Chefs?" I ask her, I heard the word from the Sage before, but when Arrum asked, he did not answer, it was after he described the sensation of something sweet to us.

"You don't know what a chef is?" she asks, confused.

"No," I admit.

"Um, well, it's a person who specializes in making food. Typically, in a place like this, they are well versed in a variety of ingredients to maximize flavor and enjoyment," she says, running her hand through the curl on her bangs, "I can pick if you like?"

There is much I do not know about the way others live.

"Please."

"Okay, well, perhaps we should have the chefs do a multicourse," she glances up from the holo, after seeing my confusion, "So you can try many different things in small portions."

I nod, even though I don't really understand her meaning, not truly. Why do they have people who specialize in making food? It seems strange. Yet, the smells I have witnessed, perhaps those were crafted by these chefs she speaks of.

"There, that should do it, and maybe something to drink," she says, a coy smile on her lip as she glances at me, "Have you ever drank before?"

"I would not have survived this long if I had not," I say, giving her the strange glance she deserves, she has seen me drink… oh, she means liquor.

"I…" she sighs, "Maybe not this time then, spend enough time around Kotina and I'm sure you will get sick of it anyways."

"I will try it, the liquor," I say, feeling embarrassed now, my eyes chance a glance, she is fighting back laughter. Somehow, seeing her happy like this makes me feel it too. A smile cresting my lips, seeing it, she lets some of it out in a small burst before composing herself again.

"It is nice to see you smile," she says, pulling her hair behind her pointed ears, it is strange how accustomed I have grown to them now.

"I was thinking the same, seeing yours."

We sit in silence for a moment, the gravity increasing the longer our eyes are together. A chime on her holopad pulls her attention, her face goes through a series of quick emotions. When she finishes reading the message, she is left with another coy smile.

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"What is it?"

"Kotina, she says to get a room for the night, apparently she hasn't been cleared yet because Fennec racked up a large amount of debt, and she's waiting for clearance from our House treasurer, whom hates her, very much," Luna says with a smile, pushing her hair back more.

"Then, what of the brothers?"

Luna's smile turns as she sees the seriousness on my face, guilt circling her brow.

"I will ask her for the contact so we can see them without her," Luna begins, my hand finds my temples as I worry after them, "I'm sorry, Kalon, we will get them, I promise."

"Do not make promises that might not be kept," I say reflexively, regretting it almost as I said it. I should not be so unkind to her, she wants to help me, despite my station and my lack of things that I can offer her, still, she seeks to help me. My jaw rolls for a moment, trying to find the path past the pride, "I am sorry, that was unfair of me, thank you for everything."

She blinks at me again, as though caught off guard, nodding slowly.

"Are you feeling okay?" she asks me, trying to fight off another smile, "It's a little strange for you to be so apologetic."

She reaches forward, feeling my forehead, trying to fight back another giggle. She is toying with me again, like when we first met. Except this time, I am not offended by it, I find myself rolling my eyes with a smile. Strange, this feeling welling in me when I'm with her. Happiness, I think. The walls begin to crumble at the sight of her beaming smile. It melts me, knowing that she finds happiness in my company too.

She is about to speak, but a chime sounds in the room. A hole appearing in the middle of the table, plates rising from the recess. Each plate has plants neatly cut and trimmed upon it. There is an oil of some kind drizzled across it.

"What is this called?"

"Salad," she says, pushing one in front of me, "That is a special sauce that you eat it with, this one is supposed to be savory."

"Interesting," I say, waiting for her to eat, still finding it strange that food has appeared from the table, all she did was ask on her wrist device and then it appears. Her way is much different than mine.

She sees my apprehension, picking up a silver tool, I have seen it before, the Sage called it a fork. The masters and the Arasha eat with them. So do some of the inner clans. Though I rarely saw them in my old city. I did see some in the abandoned city though. Watching how she holds it carefully, I mimic her.

The first piece of this salad I try without the sauce, my taste buds are struck with sensations they do not understand at first, but when they do, it's like a melody that I did not know my tongue could play strikes me. Complex tones of bitter and not bitter, it is… pleasant and new.

When I try it with the oily sauce, my eyes blink at it, salty and packed with… these are flavors. I roll it on my tongue, trying to understand the depth of it, like a book is being read to my senses. Before I realize it, the plate is empty and I am no closer to understanding the wonder that just crossed my lips. Luna watches me closely, her face has a strange look on it.

The plates disappear, she grabs my hand gently.

"What did you think?"

"Strange, yet pleasant."

"You'll like the next one better I think."

I don't know how I could, the last was like unraveling a mystery. Soon another two plates appear. My nose is greeted with a familiar smell, meat. I recognize the type by the way it looks. It is fish of some kind. I have only tried once, it was, painfully disgusting and as rotten as it smelled. All of the animals around our Kuwathi cities that survive the harshness of my world taste of the suffering they endure. The ones that do not, we are not permitted to hunt. Only the inner clans were allowed. Even then, they were made to sell three fourths to the Arasha.

"Strange," I say, moving closer to it.

"What about it?" she asks, looking at me closely as I examine it.

"Where is the rest of it?"

"They usually only serve the fillet, unless it's in a soup, or fried whole."

Words I do not understand.

"Something else is strange," I say, raising an eyebrow to her, "You've never answered so many questions in a day."

She blinks at me before closing her eyes and biting her lip, pulling back a smile to say, "I deserved that."

The fish steams, my fork easily breaking it apart, it is… not foul. It is actually, I take another bite, then another, eyes blinking at my now empty plate, it was good, really good. She smiles at me after catching me eyeing her plate, she squeezes some kind of acidic smelling thing over it with colorful skin before offering me a piece with her fork. To my shame, I indulge and bite down.

An explosion of interesting flavor rides and crests over my tongue, the acidity of whatever she put on it, paired with the fish elevates it to another place entirely. My mind is left scrambling to define what I tasted. Taking the thing she squeezed into my hand, I bite into it.

"I wouldn't," she begins, giving a small giggle as my mouth scrunches.

An almost overwhelming sensation flows across my tongue, "What is this taste?"

"Uh, sour," she says, pity flits across her eyes for a moment at my inability to recognize a taste. But I do not care in this moment.

Sour. The opposite of sweet according to the Sage, I turn to Luna, "Will there be something sweet?"

"Near the end, yes."

Sweetness. After all these years, after only hearing what it is like.

The next few courses are as exciting as the last, my tongue practically buzzing with excitement to try each thing, even the things she says are ornamental and not meant to be eaten. Even those are blissful. It feels like something has awakened in me. Like the symphonies the Sage let Arrum and me listen to, all the flavors are coming together beautifully, each one giving rise to new meaning.

I look over the object of the last plate, realizing it looks like fruit. My nose sniffs it, a smell that I can't identify. Is this what fruit smells like? I have seen them, but never been close enough to smell them. I study it intently, its skin is blue, the leaves upon it pinkish purple. I have only ever had the bitter food the masters gave us and the bounty that Luna just provided. Each time she helped me find the word I was looking for, getting better with each one at hiding her pity. I press the thoughts from my mind, focusing on what's in my hand.

"It's not going to eat itself," Luna says playfully, biting into hers.

"What is the flavor?" I ask.

She looks at me for a moment, "Sweet."

"Jumi," I whisper in the old tongue, our word for sweet, though I have seldom heard its usage from anyone except the Sage, and Riza. He used to describe his favorite fruit to me while he smoked on his pipe, always blowing concentric smoke rings. He said the tree it falls from blossoms white in the winter, the chill of the wind making the sweetness rise. Me and Arrum would always wonder what he meant by sweetness.

My stomach growls in protest at my hesitation, forcing the fond memories from me. I tilt my head sideways placing the fruit in my mouth, biting into its flesh, which is softer than I thought it would be. The juices hit my tongue, and I am overwhelmed by sensations, springing to life with fire and passion, burning inside me. I feel joy pulsing from my mouth as my tongue tastes sweetness for the first time since I have owned it.

In a word, it is beauty, but it is more than that. I recall the details that Riza wrote in her journal, how it gave her happiness against the cruelty of her reality. My brow furrows, I am swept away in the thoughts of my people, wishing they could try such a wonder with me. Why are the masters and the Gods so cruel when such beauty exists? Beauty which is so plentiful that it grows from the ground and falls from the skies. How can one have so much and not embody the beauties of existence, are people fated to be wicked, can we not be more...

"That's too bad, it's not in season," Luna says quietly, she turns toward me now, "I can ask them for another kind if you…"

I am so engrossed in the beauty and the thoughts that come from it, that the rest of the fruit falls from my hand towards the ground. Luna grabs it out of the air and puts it back in my hand gently, not looking away from me. I feel something strange run down my cheek and hit my shirt, I look down and see it is water, I stare at it, it is not snowing, we are indoors, where did it come from… the side of my hand feels my face. I am crying, but why am I crying? The Kuwathi do not cry, especially not an Ulima.

Luna wraps herself around me tightly, and the walls crumble completely under her warmth. Emotions begin to cascade out of me, I hold up my arm and begin to weep into it. At first, I do not fully understand why I am crying, but with each drop, I begin to realize and begin to mourn those who never got to experience the joy I have just felt. Each tear bids more to follow, a lifetime of repressed emotions spilling forth, creating waves in my soul, thoughts rise with them. Thoughts about my people, the hardships that they endure. The injustice of reality. I must become stronger… I must carve a new path.

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