THE JEALOUSY OF JALICE

The drums of the valley pounded in rhythm with Jalice’s heart. She wrestled against badgering streaks of insecurity as she walked up the hill. Behind her, the noise of the Star Alignment Feast faded despite the ongoing celebration. The natural silence of the forest attempted to drown it out but settled for a faint roar of joyous hollers and music that disturbed the deep slumber of the trees.

The Star Alignment Feast remained one of Jalice’s favorite tribal gatherings. It always took place mid-Thrive, and each year, a different tribe hosted the festivities. This year, the honor fell to Ikaul. Thousands of people crowded the Astriloquus Valley, partaking in a variety of customs, sports, and dances. Spices traveled on the wind, while the pleasant aromas of perfumes permeated the air.

This year’s Feast held particular significance for her though. After a thorough search of the crowd, she’d spotted Hydrim wandering into the forest that banked the valley’s slope. A sputtering bout of courage swept her toward the boy, and she envisioned how he would react to her direct and intended courtship.

She rummaged in her dress pocket. The night had required numerous feather exchanges with Ikaul tribespeople, for whom the Vekuuv respected the tradition, but she’d saved one feather just for this occasion.

Beyond rare, it came from a stardust night owl. The speckles on the upper barbs created a bluish bioluminescent effect at night. She’d found the lone feather two seasons ago while in the Orphan Mountains during the annual Apotelesma Challenge. Had her affection been towards a member of any other tribe, she’d have probably abandoned it. Yet she’d seen it as a good omen and comfort at the time—a rare feather to someday gift to her fated lover from Ikaul, the tribe that favored the feather custom.

As she moved amongst the trees, careful not to trip, she worked her fingers across her hair to catch any loose strands. Hydrim wouldn’t have any trouble reading her weave. She’d had Delilee etch some basic designs of Vekuuv and Ikaul origin into the shaved side of her head, proclaiming a clear theme of unity. With the weave beckoning courtship, he’d have to be a fool not to catch the implications of the feather. As an extra flair in the case the boy was daft, she’d decorated her hair with crystal stones that dangled at the end of leather strings to ensure his attention.

Her white cardigan fluttered in the air and caught on a branch. She halted, intent on not ruining her chosen attire. Gentling the cloth loose, she inspected the diamond patterns of turquoise and amber thread. After smoothing out a few wrinkles, she resumed her walk. The several necklaces around her neck clinked together with her gait.

Her thoughts turned back to Hydrim as she tried to convince herself that the Ikaul boy would be pleased to see her. They hadn’t seen each other since his last visit to her tribe earlier in the season. For a moment, her mind returned to the discovery of the Black House—an event that had happened almost a month ago, on that last visit. She quickly dismissed the memory. She and the others had agreed to keep it a secret; it’d have made little sense to stir up commotion over a fallen piece of expanse debris.

Jalice had applied the same logic to her own secret. She’d told no one of her exploration into the House or what she’d encountered inside. Whatever it’d been, there was no way for it to get out. After all, the creature had even admitted it was trapped. It wasn’t causing any harm in there.

Nearby rustling caused her to pause mid-stride. She furrowed her eyebrows. Perhaps it’d been a mistake to enter the forest alone after dark. Though there were few animals in the land that hadn’t been tamed to interact properly with humans, there was always the chance a stray beast might be roaming.

Low murmurs brushed her ears. She crept forward, wondering what could have brought Hydrim into the forest and away from others. A flash of jealousy gripped her, but she pressed it down. Hydrim was probably just playing a game with some boys from the visiting tribes. Perhaps she would even join them after speaking with him.

Jalice spotted two lone silhouettes in the darkness. The shorter individual stood pressed against a tree. This unknown person stared up at a burly figure that Jalice instantly recognized as Hydrim despite the dark of night.

She held her breath. Something about this seemed personal, and her first instinct was to turn back. She would give the feather to Hydrim when he finished this exchange.

Yet a part of her couldn’t turn away. Alarm bells sounded in her head. Hydrim stood incredibly close to his companion, and their hushed tones evoked a sense of intimacy. When Hydrim lifted his hand to the stranger’s chin in a delicate fashion, Jalice’s decision to leave evaporated. She quietly darted forward to crouch behind a tree within earshot.

“The Storytelling is starting soon,” said a familiar voice. “We should go back.”

Jalice’s ears tickled. That voice. It was certainly male, but young. No foreign dialect; the boy was Vekuuv. Perhaps that was why he sounded so familiar.

“They’ll sound the horn when it’s time,” Hydrim countered soothingly in his Ikaul accent. “I can run fast enough to get there before the third blast. Are you saying you’re too slow to make it from here to there in time?”

Jalice bristled at the banter in Hydrim’s voice. She pictured his sure smile as he poked fun. The need to identify the strange boy with him seared Jalice. This was her time to be with Hydrim. She twirled the feather in her hands as she observed the shadowy figures. Hydrim moved his hand from the boy’s chin and rested it casually against the tree. Jalice gritted her teeth in frustration, still unable to make out the other boy’s face as Hydrim leaned over his companion.

“We both know I could outrun you by fifty strides,” said the other boy.

“Not if I trip you,” cooed Hydrim. He leaned in closer. Their faces hovered inches apart.

Jalice’s heart raced. She crept around the tree that concealed her as their voices dropped to whispers.

“The stars shine bright tonight,” said Hydrim. “Tell me, what do they say?”

Jalice swallowed. It was time to leave. She wasn’t meant to be here. Hydrim intended this moment a private affair. Her legs burned, protesting the uncomfortable crouch. She didn’t move.

“The stars sing as they have for hundreds of years now,” said the other boy. “Melodies and harmonies, coalescing like souls locked in a kiss.”

“What do they sing, then?” asked Hydrim.

“A tale of love. A coalesce between the valley and the mountain, the river and the ocean, the sky and the expanse. Separate and yet one. Bound, but not lost inside the other. The ocean waits for the river, and the river gives to the ocean. The valley trusts the mountain, and the mountain perseveres for the valley. The sky listens to the expanse, and the expanse teaches the sky.”

Jalice’s chest tightened at the poetic response. Kerothan. She mentally kicked herself for not recognizing his pretentious tone sooner.

“So, what am I to you?” asked Hydrim smugly. “Valley or mountain? River or ocean? Sky or expanse?”

“We are each,” said Kerothan. “At times we are the valley and other times the mountain. There is a season for everything. To wait and to act. To give and to take. To listen and teach.”

Quiet filled the space around them. Jalice anxiously squinted through the darkness to determine if the discussion had ended.

“I will be what you need me to be,” said Hydrim, lifting the silence. His tone had shifted from playful to genuine, with a warmth that caressed his words. “Wind or storm, sun or dark, while we breathe until we don’t, and our souls pass into the other Realms.”

Hydrim lowered his head, and before Jalice could scream in violent protest, the two boys kissed. While their lips locked in a passionate clasp, Jalice’s throat tightened in a choked cry that never pierced the air.

She wanted to scream. A prick of pain stole her attention, and she looked down at her hands. The feather she’d intended to give Hydrim now twisted in her palm, crushed with matted barbs.

Her hands began to shake as she slowly looked back up, a decision she instantly regretted. Hydrim and Kerothan held fast in their embrace.

Jalice staggered to her feet and ran, casting the feather behind. She didn’t care if they heard her retreat.

Hatred towards Kerothan surged inside her.

She didn’t get far before sobs overtook her. Tears blurred her vision as she sank to her knees and buried her face into shaking hands. In the distance, a horn sounded—the signal for the Storytelling. Jalice wiped her arm across her nose and eyes.

A voice echoed from a deep crevice of buried memories, working its way past disorientating thoughts.

“What do you most desire, bonebag?”

The words settled the chaos in her mind. Her sobs quieted and she stared into the forest. The creature in the Black House had promised it could give her what she most desired. Perhaps it had been a trick to get her to stay at the time. Perhaps not.

By the time the third horn blast sounded, Jalice was too far to hear it. To dying stars with the Storytelling—she didn’t need to hear another retelling of hope and peace. It wouldn’t give her the love she needed. She intended to take it back herself.