Page 59
Story: Stars in Mist
Riv stared at his son. ‘How?’
The young man pointed to his temple. ‘My hawkstone. It represents the third eye of intuition and intellect. Its purpose is to enhance my inner sight. This allows me to view the world and interpret things in truth and without bias while forsaking all of my ego and ridding myself of any falsehood. It lets me access the unseen, the hereafter, the spiritual, and the divine. It is the essence ofu’Kweli, the truth.’
Riv jolted. ‘First I’ve heard of it.’It’s not the first I’ve seen of it, though.
‘It is what our people believe,’ Élisa said.
‘Who are your people?’ As he spoke, Riv clenched his jaw to keep himself in check. The anticipation of hearing what had led to her disappearance was too much to handle.
Élisa gave her son a piercing glance, and the pair launched into a telepathic conversation, which intrigued Riv even further.
Killen’s expression was set. ‘Mother. The hawkstone insists on our guest knowing our truth.’
He faced off with his mother until she closed her single eye and turned her face away with a stiff nod, consenting to what was a difficult disclosure.
He turned to face Riv. ‘My people,’ he paused, indicating Élisa, ‘our people are the Katáne. As a collective, we are The Ka?'m??r? of Katáne.’
Riv’s eyes narrowed.Fokk. The obscure apocalyptic conquest-drunk race?
‘Have you heard of them?’ Killen asked.
Again, Riv felt the young man’s electric pulse probe his soul, a gentle nudge deep in his heart.
This was new. This power differed from Zane’s psionic abilities, which worked on the mind.
His son’s abilities had the power to sift through emotion and go to the core of all meaning.
It was astounding. It was potent.It was scary as all fokk.
‘I have,’ Riv admitted. ‘Though I know little of them. What of your father?’
He cast an eye on Élisa as he spoke, as she trembled and closed her single eye tight.
He glanced back at Killen, whose unseeing eyes were set in his direction as if cutting straight to his soul. ‘My father is someone I would love to meet.’
Riv’s breath hitched. ‘Where is he?’
Élisa lifted a hand to sweep away the question. ‘Nowhere close. Now, Ribau, eat.’
Killen spread his hand over the generous platters as Riv tore his eyes away, his soul tumultuous. ‘Please. Knowing you were coming, I crafted a small feast for you.’
Riv slid onto a chair and stared with empty eyes at the table, not quite registering the meal.
Élisa glanced at him and then, standing to her feet, fixed a plate for him.
The young man had prepared butter beans in a smoked oil, a rustic corn-based dough wrapped around an oozing soft cheese filling.
Delectable pickles and toppings, wild blossom pickled onions, a tangy salsa, pungent chili oil, and a zesty vegetable salad were also on offer.
Riv picked at the food before him as they ate in silence, punctuated only by murmurs to pass down a platter or pour a glass of water.
While he pretended to eat, Riv seethed under the veneer of Ribau’s calmer countenance.
He was beyond bewildered: the Élisa he’d loved had never shied away from truth and caring for someone’s heart.
What had happened to wrench her away from her heartfelt promises to love him for eternity? Why had she kept her son from him?
However, after a few minutes of pretense and almost choking on his food, Riv couldn’t take it and snarled. ‘Where am I to take you both?’
The young man pointed to his temple. ‘My hawkstone. It represents the third eye of intuition and intellect. Its purpose is to enhance my inner sight. This allows me to view the world and interpret things in truth and without bias while forsaking all of my ego and ridding myself of any falsehood. It lets me access the unseen, the hereafter, the spiritual, and the divine. It is the essence ofu’Kweli, the truth.’
Riv jolted. ‘First I’ve heard of it.’It’s not the first I’ve seen of it, though.
‘It is what our people believe,’ Élisa said.
‘Who are your people?’ As he spoke, Riv clenched his jaw to keep himself in check. The anticipation of hearing what had led to her disappearance was too much to handle.
Élisa gave her son a piercing glance, and the pair launched into a telepathic conversation, which intrigued Riv even further.
Killen’s expression was set. ‘Mother. The hawkstone insists on our guest knowing our truth.’
He faced off with his mother until she closed her single eye and turned her face away with a stiff nod, consenting to what was a difficult disclosure.
He turned to face Riv. ‘My people,’ he paused, indicating Élisa, ‘our people are the Katáne. As a collective, we are The Ka?'m??r? of Katáne.’
Riv’s eyes narrowed.Fokk. The obscure apocalyptic conquest-drunk race?
‘Have you heard of them?’ Killen asked.
Again, Riv felt the young man’s electric pulse probe his soul, a gentle nudge deep in his heart.
This was new. This power differed from Zane’s psionic abilities, which worked on the mind.
His son’s abilities had the power to sift through emotion and go to the core of all meaning.
It was astounding. It was potent.It was scary as all fokk.
‘I have,’ Riv admitted. ‘Though I know little of them. What of your father?’
He cast an eye on Élisa as he spoke, as she trembled and closed her single eye tight.
He glanced back at Killen, whose unseeing eyes were set in his direction as if cutting straight to his soul. ‘My father is someone I would love to meet.’
Riv’s breath hitched. ‘Where is he?’
Élisa lifted a hand to sweep away the question. ‘Nowhere close. Now, Ribau, eat.’
Killen spread his hand over the generous platters as Riv tore his eyes away, his soul tumultuous. ‘Please. Knowing you were coming, I crafted a small feast for you.’
Riv slid onto a chair and stared with empty eyes at the table, not quite registering the meal.
Élisa glanced at him and then, standing to her feet, fixed a plate for him.
The young man had prepared butter beans in a smoked oil, a rustic corn-based dough wrapped around an oozing soft cheese filling.
Delectable pickles and toppings, wild blossom pickled onions, a tangy salsa, pungent chili oil, and a zesty vegetable salad were also on offer.
Riv picked at the food before him as they ate in silence, punctuated only by murmurs to pass down a platter or pour a glass of water.
While he pretended to eat, Riv seethed under the veneer of Ribau’s calmer countenance.
He was beyond bewildered: the Élisa he’d loved had never shied away from truth and caring for someone’s heart.
What had happened to wrench her away from her heartfelt promises to love him for eternity? Why had she kept her son from him?
However, after a few minutes of pretense and almost choking on his food, Riv couldn’t take it and snarled. ‘Where am I to take you both?’
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