His father had been a Vorakkar, a great Vorakkar in his time, roaming Dakkar, living freely on the wild lands until he decided to end his rule and settle permanently. It never occurred to me to walk away…because where would I go?Īnd this Dakkari boy who I fell in love with? I just stood there, waiting for it to be over, waiting for them to get bored and leave me be. They would tease and taunt me, jeering at the human girl who didn’t look like them, until they made me cry, until fat, clear tears dripped down my face, which delighted them. I didn’t speak until I was eight years old.
Frightening and dangerous but wonderful, all at the same time. That was what it felt like, falling in love. Fast like plunging off the tall diving cliffs next to the Okkili outpost, dropping into the chilled sea, the wind slapping at flesh and carrying excited screams and laughter away.
Fast like the brown nekkisau darting for their dark burrows when strange beings strayed too close. It hit me fast, like the quick purple lightning that sometimes flashed over Drukkar’s Sea in the warm season. When I was eight years old, I fell in love with a Dakkari boy.
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