The Mayaware's reign has to end.
In a world of demonic beings with a hunger for human flesh, and thirst for blood, Hesi Renen knows it well. When her siblings are taken to the harvesting farms, she must do everything she can to get them out, even if...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Sweat dripped from Hesi's hairline to her chin, her fingers twitching and turning rigid. Her heartbeat thrummed in her temples as she hunkered down on the square frame. She grabbed the twine and focused on lacing the thick twine around the frame's legs before weaving it between the spaces made by the fine threads of the canvas. It was the same thing as tying up a tent flap against a branch. It should be a breeze.
The trial took place inside one of the wider rooms in the royal palace—the farthest most brides reached since the trading square—and for some strange reason, the corridor Hesi remembered to lead to the prince's quarters where Mensa was found was blocked by a huge stone. How would the prince go out there from now on? And why would the Mayaware take such huge risk in bringing the brides here, when one of them literally has a plan to infiltrate and commit murder?
It told Hesi one thing—the Mayaware had no idea.
Darpeh, even Kharta was able to fly by unnoticed and he's the one with a more acidic method.
At the thought of the steward, she flicked her gaze from her project to the spot where he sat along with the other bald Mayaware whom she could only assume to be important. Festophis, the head of the Steel Fortress, sat cross-legged over a velvet cushion, a displeased frown plastered on his face as if he couldn't bothered to be here. Beside him sat a female Mayaware adorned from bald head to toe with gold and colorful gemstones. Must be Nephdaphis, the only female general in the army.
The others seated beside them could only be Heruphis, Khetaphis, and Iserphis. Each were powerful and wealthy by their own right. Each had the patience of a fly and would not hesitate to kill Hesi off if she showed any sign of wavering. Then again, like how Mayaware saw humans, she really couldn't care less to identify the generals apart from the ones she already knew.
Kharta refused to meet her eyes and instead focused his shrouded gaze towards Uzare who was already halfway through her pottery project. Hesi figured as much. They shouldn't broadcast to everyone whatever connection they shared. Why was she disappointed though?
She focused back to her canvas which was propped int he middle of the frame like a man about to be flayed. She rummaged around the wicker basket containing the colored spools and picked the only shade she had been using for practice. The thread unwound with ease. The needle joined Hesi's hand not long after. Slowly, with her tongue sticking out between her lips in concentration, she pushed the thread into the needle's eye as Barteset has taught her. Then, she started embroidering.
Her shoulders jumped every time the needle resurfaced from the other side of the canvas and plunged into her thumb. Rehema's voice rang in her head as an advice—Stop putting your thumb in places you expect the needle to go through. Hesi stuck a lip out. How could she know when to pull the needle through then?
Two weeks wasn't enough for her to master more than one shape. Barteset had given up teaching her any more than the stitches she needed to make the flower shape Uzare had showed her. That meant Hesi was on her own when it came to the grass. And the sky. And the river.
