He is…masticating. Which is odd for a male Terra.
“My sprouts died, Datu. I was not able to provide like I had wanted.” His brand-new eyes are accusatory. “Many of us have returned. We did not pass on only for the future to go extinct.”
Shame wraps around me like a toxic swaddle. Lakan is one of the very few who hears me. He is Terra, but he has always feltdifferent. He holds wisdom much like someone who has existed for a millenia. It is as if his spirit has been in existence far longer than his body.
Like me, he has grown claws and sharp teeth.
“It is my fault that the sprouts did not survive.”
“You do not get to carry a burden that is not yours.” He snaps, and towers over me. Right now, his crown seems to have reached the sky. He is imposing, intimidating, even. “It ismyfailing my sprouts could not survive. The males have failed the species, but starting today, we will thrive anew. I have seen the future with my new eyes.” He shoves crops into my hands. “Feed yourself. You are gaunt.”
Sniffing the root crop, I grimace. He looks expectant.
“I have never eaten anything in this form.”
“Do not be so set in the ways of the past. We rose from the dead to knock some sense into you.” Lakan’s good-natured wisecracks is something I thought I would never hear again.
I run my teeth over the sharp tips again. Had this been the answer the whole time? Hesitantly, I bite into the crop and chew. There is no taste, just texture, and it is dry. It breaks in my mouth like sand.
“It should not taste good, but it is sustenance.”
Finishing the crop, it is strange to me how it stabilizes the churning in my gut. Xiaoyu had been correct. My Terra form had been forced to change. I eat more until I feel heavy and filled. An extreme juxtaposition of the void.
“How long does this last?”
“Not long. But I know what will fill me. Or who.” His gaze finds Sunshine again underneath the tree.
“You are not to eat her.”I snarl, protective of Xiaoyu’s friend.
He grins widely at me, and I see mischief in his eyes. “You do not tell me what to do. My hunger for her is different.”
It chills me to the bone how much I understand this. When I made certain he would not hurt the human female, I left him to stew in my own thoughts.
I miss Xiaoyu, but I had promised her a place to belong in. She wants a home, but I am not giving her that.
From the veins of my teeth, to the bones of my soul, I will pour every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears to build her an altar.
Xiaoyu
The next morning, there are gifts laid by the steps.
I don’t know who they’re from, but I have a feeling they are from the Void. Datu, I think his name is. There are weaves of silk, a wicker basket of fruits, flowers and an ivory bulb with a cuspid tip. There’s a beautiful gemstone on it that I can recall the name of. It’s a smooth rock with chromatic striations, splitting into veins of brilliant light.
The gem is boulder opal, my mind whispers.
But the actual object? I should know what this thing is! It doesn’t matter if I can’t put a word to what it is. I smile as I wrap twine around it and wear it as a necklace. It’s a weird pendant, but all gifts, I appreciate when given freely.
It rolls over my chest, glowing as it passes my skin. I love it already. Underneath the flowers, I see a satchel. It’s…mine. Excitedly, I pour out all its contents and see things I know! One is a pen, a blow torch, a canister, and a notebook. As I spread the notes open, I get the distinct feeling I’m violating someone’s privacy.
Lin Xiaoyu. My name! I skim through the notes, and I notice I've made this a diary. At first, it had been just clinical notation about the subject. Datu. Then, it goes downhill after day two. I’m now reading confessions of an attached girl who's been having weird dreams.
Chewing my lip, I appreciate how my notes break everything down into things I can easily understand. One thing rings clear, though. There’s a drought we need to fix, and Datu and my past self have had…relations.
I snap the notebook shut. Too detailed. I even sketched the thing I have basically sliced off him. I pick everything up and place them by the altar, still admiring my pendant.
In the woods, there’s a whistle. Already, I’m feeling chills. I descend from the stairs, standing on the last step. I swallow as my eyes peer around the darkness of the woods.
“Who is that?”
