The Last Families

By Carla Doria

"A timely fantasy about castaways fleeing their dying land to seek refuge on a cryptic island, The Last Families by Carla Doria is an epic tale about first contact with brutal worlds and rivalrous clans..." SPR

 

"An entertaining, thoughtful, and hauntingly thrilling dystopian fantasy read, author Carla Doria's "The Last Families" is a must-read fantasy novel of 2021." Anthony Avina

 

Escaping their land's destruction, four remaining families reach the island of Gambir. In spite of each family having talents like mind-reading, extraordinary force, heating objects with their hands, and flying, they are not sure if they will find refuge in this place. 

 

Will Yarisha, the only mind-reader in the Verbaren family, be able to control her feelings for Malakay, the most arrogant sibling in the Ninfire family? The young man's mother and matriarch of the Ninfires, Mandely, will never consent to this relationship since she considers the girl's family inferior to them. At the same time, the Gambirian leader, Ian, has also set eyes on Yarisha and plans to take wives by force in possible exchange for refuge. 

 

None of the members of the families expect to find a land full of secrets and traps where those with the darkest-looking skin seem to have better chances to survive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carla Doria
• Release date: Nov 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201001285

Book preview

To my Mom and Aunt Nancy

Acknowledgements

My fantastic friend Chrissie Pollock who invested her time to help me review this story.

A picture containing text, businesscard Description automatically generated

Yarisha – The red cliffs

Blood climbed at least half a mile towards the sky. That was Yarisha’s first impression when she saw the crimson hue that covered the tallest cliffs she’d ever seen. The immense island above them resembled a piece of land floating on the water’s surface. Judging by the marks on the red cliffs, the water could have been higher once. Whatever mineral drenched the rocks, it painted them a deep red. This wasn’t the dreamiest place one would expect, but the families didn’t have anywhere else to go. Their own land had been destroyed.

The families had been sailing for more than four months, sailing through storms. They had used handcrafted filtering systems to desalinate their drinking water. They had fed themselves with fish and some stored provisions, but they hadn’t fished in a while, and their food wouldn’t last much longer. To add to their troubles, their boats weren’t the steel-hardened structures they’d once been—storms, sea creatures, and salt had deteriorated them.

From the five boats that had departed, only four had arrived. The fifth boat belonged to the Bagarish; they had been swallowed by the Verbolg—a monster of the sea, a mixture of whale and reptile and the most dreaded life form in these waters. The Ninfire, the Kaptarish, the Drontas, and the Verbaren families were the only ones that had survived.

Looking up the red cliffs, Yarisha could see beams of light coming from the top and beyond. That light brought her a sense of peace. She had high expectations for this mystical place. She wanted to find a place to settle down. A new place to begin her life again. While she tried to assess more of the light—mostly blocked by the rocky barrier in front of her—she heard a familiar voice. She hadn’t realized that her cousin, Ismalish Verbaren, had stepped closer to her.

Why don’t the Ninfires fly above? Ismalish asked her. Short ginger hair surrounded his head, while small blue eyes loomed beneath his thin eyebrows. A wide nose loomed over his swollen lips. He wore a black cloak that waved with the wind.

There were no traditions in Yarisha’s Verbaren family of naming leaders, yet they had unofficially chosen her. She didn’t know how to feel about that. She wished they hadn’t. It was too much responsibility, and she hadn’t asked for it. But now all her cousins addressed her as a leader, as did the other families. If she had chosen the ideal leader, she would have named Ismalish instead. After all, he was the strongest one, physically. But Yarisha knew they had chosen her for a single reason: she seemed to be the only one who could read minds. Nobody else had inherited the family gift.

Thinking about Ismalish’s question, she glanced towards the Ninfires’ boat and recognized the family’s lilac hair glowing as all of them grouped in a circle on the deck. She knew her cousin was correct.

The third family’s boat, the Drontas, stood in between Yarisha’s boat and that of the Ninfires. Marquesh Drontas, the patriarch, stepped in front of her field of vision. His silver-white hair contrasted with his black skin. A vest of white fur covered his big, muscled body. The Drontas’ talent was their physical strength. They were so strong that they could lift the heaviest of all objects. In addition, the family always had twin children, always coming to life in pairs. There had never been a single childbirth for as long as they remembered. But the bond between each twin was so tight that when one got sick or died, the other twin could suffer the same fate. This is exactly what had happened to Marquesh’s youngest daughters. His daughter Alice had gotten sick and had later died. Her twin, Megan, had suffered the same fate a couple of days later. Only six people had arrived in this boat: Marquesh, his two sons, his oldest daughters, and his wife.

As if sensing Yarisha’s eyes on him, the muscled black man turned around and looked in her direction. His dark eyes found hers. He was having the same thought as Yarisha. It was time to ask the Ninfires to fly to the top of the cliffs.

Silently begging that Marquesh would be the one to ask the Ninfires, Yarisha felt a wave of heat reaching her back. The Kaptarish, the fourth family, were probably looking her way. Called the green people, mostly thanks to their green hair, their bodies radiated heat. Their hands’ temperature ran so high that they could burn whatever they touched. Yarisha turned around and saw the heads of at least ten Kaptarish. At first glance, it was hard to tell the difference between the women and the men. Their short hair was all cut identically since they considered long hair a nuisance and a barrier to daily tasks. Their big green eyes, framed with thick black eyebrows, matched their hair color. It was said they once descended from the fairies. They all wore the same attire: black pants, black vests, and a half-skirt tied around their waists.

Yarisha discerned Palista among them. The oldest woman and matriarch had the greenest eyes of the family, and it wasn’t a coincidence. The Kaptarish chose their leader based on the eyes’ brightness. It was said that the green color gave them the power to heat things up. Palista was the oldest person in the family and the oldest of all survivors reaching Gambir. Even though she was a grandmother of ten, she was still strong enough to lead her family. 

Yarisha wished she could read the thoughts of the Kaptarish. Did they also want the Ninfires to fly? But she hadn’t read minds in a long time. The last time had been when she was younger, almost a child. She had read the minds of only some Kaptarish and a Drontas man. Even so, this one incident had been enough to spread the word about her skill. Since then, she hadn’t read any more minds, and she often wondered if she had lost the gift.

Many people had escaped their perishing land. As far as they knew, however, only four families had reached Gambir. Before their land was destroyed, the Verbaren, Yarisha’s family, had numbered at least eight hundred or more. Other families had been in the hundreds as well. The Drontas had hit the highest population once—almost two thousand since they reproduced in pairs. But even though this family gave birth to twins, they also doubled the number of deaths when they died. It was hard to believe that only six had survived.

More than fifteen families had lived in their world, all with different characteristics and talents, all keeping their lines pure and not mixing with other families. Today, maintaining purity would no longer be possible. The Verbaren on the boat were first cousins. They could still marry among themselves, but would they? Yarisha couldn’t conceive of it. Her cousins were like brothers and sisters to her. What would the Drontas, the Ninfire, and the Kaptarish families do? Unlike the Verbaren, they were siblings. They would all need to mingle at some point to ensure their survival.

Suddenly Mandely Ninfire blew the horn, an instrument they’d used for communication among the boats. The Ninfires had reached a decision.

I will fly above with my husband, Mandely shouted from her boat’s deck. Her husband, Nartop, stepped beside her. The man was shorter than his wife, with lilac hair already turning grey. He displayed a beard that brought a stately presence to his early sixties.

Mandely, meanwhile, was probably in her late forties. She was mother to seven Ninfire children, and all had survived this trip. Most were already young adults, but she still had a couple of young children, Elisea and Freyden. Both were below the age of ten, the girl the youngest. They were the youngest of all the survivors in these boats. However, Mandely could still conceive more children. Ninfire women’s cycles never stopped, and babies born to eighty- to ninety-year-old mothers were common. Yet it was said Mandely had chosen a much older husband on purpose to ensure she wouldn’t procreate later in life. Only eight people had arrived in her boat.

Mandely’s curly lilac hair differentiated her from her children. Her eyes were as big as two full moons. The purple in her eyes shone, making them look even bigger. Her apple-shaped face emphasized her cheeks. Yarisha thought Mandely must have been beautiful when she was younger. She still was, but her younger daughters drew the attention now. The four girls she’d conceived, including young Elisea, were beautiful creatures. Long straight lilac hair reached their waists. Thick eyelashes highlighted their purple eyes. All of them had perfect small noses, and their milk-white skin shone under the moonlight.

The three Ninfire boys, however, were completely unique. Yarisha couldn’t take her eyes from the oldest one, Malakay Ninfire. He was the tallest in the family, with shoulder-length hair, partially pulled back into a bun. He had little resemblance to his father; he had clearly inherited most of his mother’s traits. Malakay’s eyes were darker than usual. In some light, they even seemed black. Having acquired a certain tanned color, his skin wasn’t as white as the rest of his family.

Mandely and Nartop held hands. They both exhaled deeply before silently gliding into the air. Their heads looked upwards, their gaze on the top of the red cliffs. Without needing to move their arms, they rose straight up into the atmosphere, effortlessly, as if they had always belonged there. Yarisha knew they had summoned their own deity, the moon, and glided into the air.

THE SHORES OF THE ISLAND were no wider than a couple of feet. Whatever life existed on this land, it had to live on the top of the cliffs. The ocean’s water bashed stronger than usual, yet Yarisha noticed that it didn’t hit the shores. Right before the waves could break on the narrow beaches, the water was pulled back and sucked downwards. An invisible barrier kept the water from hitting the land, creating a falling abyss in the depths of the ocean.

Yarisha wondered why her mother, Terhesa, hadn’t described the water abyss. During the last month of the trip and before she died, Yarisha’s mother had shared with them as much about Gambir as possible. The woman hadn’t gone there herself, but she had known the explorers who’d once been on the island. She had been the last of the adults, the last parent, to die among the Verbaren cousins. Yarisha still wished that her mother could have stayed with them a little bit longer to reach the land she had heard so much about—this land that would give them a new opportunity.

Turning her eyes towards the Ninfires’ ship again, Yarisha noticed Malakay looking in her direction with a severe expression, his brow furrowed. Feeling the tingling sensation beneath her skin, her own blushing cheeks, she averted her eyes and started to assess the people in her boat, wanting to distract herself from the young Ninfire man.

While they followed the Ninfire couple’s ascent, Mandely and Nartop, they noticed it was getting colder than usual. A feeble breeze traversed Yarisha’s body. Her mother had warned them about the dangers they could face when arriving to Gambir. One of them, the weather. Her mother had mentioned temperatures changing fast, going from below freezing to hot enough to burn your skin off.

Even so, Yarisha recalled that stories from explorers contradicted themselves. Some said there were no seasons in Gambir. Each day would be a gamble in regard to the temperature, so they would need to be prepared. Others said the island was eternally as cold as ice, a perennial winter. Some explorers had found settlements inhabited by generous people, while others had had to escape and run for their lives.

While rubbing her hands around her arms to warm herself, Yarisha felt a hand on her shoulder. Her cousin Ismalish leaned forward, asking her, It’s going to be freezing soon. Do you remember what we were told?

Yarisha nodded and turned to the Kaptarish’s boat. She approached her boat’s railing and shouted as loudly as possible, Any chance you can help us keep warm?

The Kaptarish group also followed the Ninfire couple rising upwards. Their matriarch, Palista, lowered her eyes and stepped towards the rail of her boat. Wrinkles filled the woman’s rounded face, but her green eyes still shone stronger than ever. Her short hair was a bit longer than the rest of her family. Maybe at her age, she didn’t see the point in keeping it that short anymore.

Don’t worry. We’ll help as much as possible, the old woman said with a faint smile on her lips.

Yarisha sighed in relief. To her, Palista was like a grandmother. After the death of her own mother, she saw Marquesh Drontas and Palista Kaptarish as her own personal leaders and mentors. On the other hand, she didn’t trust Mandely Ninfire.

The Kaptarish could keep the families warm. Their body temperatures were like human fires, so the green family split themselves up among the different boats. Ropes were thrown among boats to zipline people between them.

Palista and her eldest grandson, Commeter, a boy of only eleven years old, remained in the family’s boat. Yarisha wished Commeter would also join them because they needed more heat. The six Kaptarish who had had boarded her boat were not enough to warm the sixteen in her own family. Even so, Palista had to have her reasons for keeping the youngest grandson by her side.

YARISHA’S FAMILY, THE Verbarens, was the largest. Sixteen people had arrived. They were all cousins. Verbaren couples could never conceive more than one child in their lifespan. Women hadn’t been able to conceive a second child for as long as they could tell. Their physiology was different and hard to explain. Once they reached their fifties, their heart and other organs began to fail. The declining stage lasted for about two years before they died. As a consequence, all Verbarens in the boat had arrived without parents. They were young, most of them in their teen years or early twenties.

Since Verbaren lives were so short, they spent their time wisely, waiting to have their single child until they were at least in their early thirties. Red hair characterized the Verbaren. Their blue eyes contrasted with the palest skin of all the families—a faint white that shone brightly during full moon nights. Like the Ninfires, they claimed to be descendants from the Moon men. But different from other families, their talent was not clearly visible. Mind-reading seemed to be a lost talent, and Yarisha was the exception.

The Kaptarish used their hands to warm everybody on deck. They kept one hand on the neck of each person long enough to warm the entire body. While the Verbaren took turns so that everybody could receive heat, Yarisha looked up. She couldn’t see the Ninfire couple anymore. They had reached the top.

Mandely- The infinite dunes

Up above, Mandely felt the strong wind striking her face when she reached the top of the cliffs. Gasping, she rested her feet on the ground. The ground was soft, and her feet sunk in the sand. She couldn’t see much. Her eyes barely opened due to the tough wind. She disentangled her hand from Nartop’s and brought it to her face to block the warm wind. The air hitting them was so hot, it felt like they were standing in front of a scorching stove.

Nartop searched for her hand again, We need to move, or our feet will keep sinking. His voice was raspy and feeble.

Mandely couldn’t see much more than an endless field of sand, lurking beyond them. Sand dunes dotted the horizon. The sky was different, though. Squinting in the strong wind, she noticed beams of light crossing through clouds- all amidst a purple sky.

Can you see anything at all? she asked Nartop as he held her hand tighter. Not able to see what lay in front of her, she needed to rely on him this time. Otherwise, she wouldn’t allow herself to be so dependent on her husband.

Not really.  The wind is throwing sand into my eyes, Nartop replied.

Mandely wiped off the sand that rested on her face, eyes, and nose, ducking her head to avoid facing the wind. She could only see her feet covered in sand and feel the heat warming around her leather shoes. 

They should have walked at least ten minutes more, looking at their own feet, before the wind’s strength diminished. That’s when the light in the sky cleared the landscape for them, but they only saw more sand dunes in the landscape ahead of them.

Above them, a violet sky revealed two twin moons. A cloud had partially hidden one of the moons but had now allowed its appearance, smaller than its sister, but as bright as the bigger one. The moons’ yellow light cast beams into multiple colors, mainly purple, which shone onto the ground, glowing on them. The presence of these two moons was a sign for Mandely. After all, the Ninfires descended from the moon people. This had to be their land. Mandely looked towards Nartop, who swished his head side-to-side, absorbing into the landscape.  

Why two moons? the wind muffled his raspy voice.

I’m not sure, Mandely answered. She didn’t even know if they were still on the same planet. Had they reached a different planet somehow? They’d traveled through the center of their own world to reach Gambir. They were supposed to reach lands untouched by the catastrophes of their own one, a place that hadn’t sunk under the sea. Many explorers had said that what went beyond the core of their planet could only be associated with a distant place in the universe.

That’s when Mandely saw them. They were not alone.

People came with horses on the horizon- a group of ten or twelve at least. Mandely couldn’t distinguish their features from a distance. Feeling warm reaching her cheeks, she recognized that situations like this one made her despise the fact that they were the only family that could fly. It was a gift, but sometimes it felt like an excuse for the other families to avoid danger and to push Ninfires into risk.

The Drontas lifted heavy weights, and Kaptarish heated things up with their hands, but these gifts were of no use in these situations. As for the Verbaren, they were the lesser of all families, according to Mandely. Their supposed mind-reading talent had died with previous generations, and today they had no gift at all.

Are we in danger? Nartop interrupted her thoughts. Her husband rubbed the back of his neck.

Mandely exhaled and closed her eyes. She grabbed Nartop’s hand tighter and prayed, Moon God, take care of our children. If they survived this, she would ensure her family wouldn’t be the one to risk it all.  She felt her heartbeat racing.

As the horses got closer, people’s faces could be distinguished. All of them looked different. Oddly, they looked like they were people from all different kinds of families. Most of them had dark skin, smooth brown or white with a deep shade of tan. Some had dirty blond locks, and others had dark black hair which rode down their backs. They rode their horses solemnly towards them, with- their heads held high. 

Mandely looked around and noticed there was nowhere to run or hide- no way to protect themselves. They could fly and escape, but if these strange people had weapons of some sort, they could still harm them. Would they speak the same language?

Atbar! a dark-haired man shouted raising his right hand up, as if saluting them.

They might speak another language, Nartop whispered under his breath.

Nartop tended to speak the obvious, and Mandely didn’t have much patience for this. I have the map of our journey after our land got destroyed. We can show them and maybe they’ll understand the geography, even if they speak a different language, she whispered back, sighing heavily.

The map she had sketched the pathway and lands they’d passed before getting into the eye of the sea and passing through the center of their planet. Perhaps if Mandely showed this map to them, they would understand where they came from, diminishing the language barrier. She felt rushing blood in her body and a strange tingling sensation under her skin.

The dark-haired man started to speak to his group in an inaudible language. That’s when he dropped his saluting hand. The horses were now pacing forward, warily. The men and women exchanged some words between them, directing their glances at Mandely and Nartop, until their horses reached a stop, only a few feet away from them.

Mandely’s heart beat faster, but she held her head straight up, not even looking at her husband. She didn’t want him to realize that her hands were sweaty from nervousness. She wanted to maintain her fearless image before the others and her own husband.

Only the dark-haired man stepped down from his horse. His short black hair was cut into a square outline around his face. Brown eyes, tanned skin, long nose, and almost purple lips distinguished his face. He was tall and muscular. A long brown fur vest stretched down to his calves. Completing his outfit, he wore a black inner vest and dark fabric pants.

He is the leader. Mandely knew. And even if he wasn’t, he exerted authority among the other people, remaining one step in front of the others. She quickly assessed the group. They all had sharp features and scars on their faces, especially men, with cheeks, and noses dotted with thick, jagged scars. Were those combat scars? Mandely looked towards the blonde girl. She was an extraordinary beauty, with a long-sided braid reaching her waist, making a contrast to her tanned skin. Accentuating her dark eyes, she wore orange lace around her head.

An olive-skinned woman made an impact on Mandely too. She was an exotic beauty with dark, silky hair, and pouty reddish lips. However, something made her ugly at the same time. The woman had been looking at her and Nartop with furrowed brows and almost flaring nostrils. 

Three dark-blond haired men seemed to be related. They all wore brown vests over their bared tanned chests.

On the right side, Mandely saw three more black men, but they were nothing like the Drontas. These men had hair as dark as their skin, anxious eyes, and they looked rather thin and small.

I believe you came from beyond the center core, the leader said in a sharp tone. His accent was strong but understandable.

Yes, we did, Mandely replied, relieved they spoke their language. Our place has been destroyed.

Destroyed by whom? The man asked back.

Mandely remained silent, looking for the right answer. That’s when she heard the voice of her husband, sooner than expected.

By us, Nartop said out loud, quickly dropping his gaze. He was fidgeting with his pants’ pockets. We destroyed our own planet.

I see, the leader replied – with no expression on his face. That was meant to happen sometime. And I now suppose you come here for refuge?

Yes, Nartop continued. 

How many of you are there?

We are four families, around forty, Mandely spoke faster, wanting to take control of the conversation.

The leader nodded and added, You can’t just simply stay here. He stepped forward. His shoulders drew backward, not losing eye contact, his head standing high. You’ve destroyed your land. You do not deserve to be here, his small eyes penetrated Mandely’s. This is our world, and people that live here won’t accept people like you. The man half-turned towards his people, who nodded slightly. People that don’t know how to take care of their own world, he switched his look towards Nartop, scanning him from head to feet. His jaw remained clenched.

You should go, one of the dark blond men said, raising his voice from behind. A couple of whispered, Yeses followed his words.

Mandely felt a tightening in her chest as she felt her heartbeat racing. If they couldn’t stay here, where would they go? Supplies would only last for a couple of weeks more. There was nowhere else to go, according to the maps. Mandely looked toward the leader, who remained silent. His furrowed brows framed his small eyes, now looking downwards, considering thoughtfully. She prayed he would give them an opportunity.

And as if sensing the leader’s inner dispute, one of the black men added, But we can’t do that. They came for refuge. We can’t just tell them to go. 

We’ve learned our lesson, and we won’t ever think of doing something to harm your home, Mandely quickly added. However, she saw a brief snarky smile displaying on the Gambir man that had voiced his support.  The man shared a suspicious look with his neighbor, his lip twisting while his right eyebrow accompanied an ironic smirk. Mandely now doubted their intentions. 

You don’t even know how this place works, the olive-skinned girl shouted. Her voice was loud and masculine as she glared at them.

The leader lifted his hand to silence everybody, Stop, we won’t decide now. We will receive you until we decide if you can stay or not. He held his chin high as he rested his hands loosely behind him.

Thanks, Nartop hurried up to answer, a nervous smile escaping his lips.

Mandely nodded, but she wasn’t ready to smile. This wasn’t necessarily good news, and they could have a hidden intention in the offer. But they had to take it, given they had nowhere else to go. 

This is no guarantee you will remain, the dark-olive skin woman said aloud, again. She hadn’t changed the intensity of hatred in her eyes. You know nothing about our land, so you might regret coming here after all, she arched her eyebrows.

We understand, Mandely said as firmly as possible, not wanting to sound weak. Can we go back to our ships to let the others know?

No, the leader replied, catching her by surprise. Only one will go back. The other will stay. That is our rule.

Mandely felt a massive lump going down her chest, feeling overheated, not expecting this demand.

I’ll stay, Nartop whispered.

She didn’t turn to look at him but felt his eyes searching for hers. 

No, you will not.  She will stay, the leader pointed with his head towards Mandely.

Mandely exhaled loudly. Her heart pounded as she thought about the sacrifices she had to make for other families. This would be the last time. She told herself.

Malakay- The mixing of families

Malakay Ninfire and her sister Wendire took turns waiting in the line for the Kaptarish to touch them, receiving heat to keep them warm. The night was colder than expected, and if it hadn’t been for the Kaptarish’s hands, they would’ve frozen to death.

I don’t understand why she keeps looking at you like that, Wendire murmured, as they waited in the back.

I don’t either, Malakay answered as he rubbed his own arms to battle the cold winds while he waited for his turn.

I think she is after you, Wendire imitated his brother’s movements by grazing her own arms.

Well, then she’s wasting her time. I would never place an eye on one of those Verbaren girls.

Why not? Some of them are pretty. Yarisha is. And besides, she is the leader, so she is a good candidate... A broad smile spread across his sister’s face.

Verbaren are only a burden to me. What good can they do when we face problems? They’re not strong like the Drontas, they can’t keep us warm like the Kaptarish, or fly like us. Our mother and father are risking their lives right now. When will the Verbaren risk theirs? Without realizing, Malakay’s voice had gone louder. He felt his skin warm and tingling. He looked towards the Verbaren boat, but Yarisha was no longer on sight.

You have to be more open-minded now, Wendire scorned as she stuck her tongue out. If we are going to survive, we will need to mix. You can’t expect any of us to marry you, that would be disgusting.

I know that, stupid. I won’t ever look at my sisters that way, Malakay replied while he walked toward the Kaptarish boy to receive heat- a boy of thirteen, who was scrawny and small.

Wendire pouted as she walked to the Kaptarish girl that waited for her. His sister was young, fifteen-years-old, but she often behaved like a small child. 

You people are the worst, Balatar interrupted, chuckling. He was the oldest of the Kaptarish brothers. While providing heat to another sister of Malakay, he displayed a wide smirk.

You are talking nonsense, Malakay grinned. I might like you, but you sometimes sound dumb. Balatar was probably the only person he considered a friend in the Kaptarish family. He was the only one Malakay could handle these rude comments from without snapping back. After all, everything was a joke when it came from Balatar.

Why are we the worst? Wendire asked, stepping closer to the two young men. She’d dragged the Kaptarish girl who was warming her closer to them so that she could hear the conversation.

Because you are still arguing about mixing up. We all know that is a fact.  And let’s face it, there is not much else to select from. Balatar lowered his voice, looking around for people overhearing him. His green eyes shone deeper, emphasizing his snarky comment. If you don’t like Yarisha, then better for me, he winked. She is gorgeous. Her blue eyes are the most amazing ones I’d ever seen. So out of my way. You, weird purple guy, he burst out in laughter.

Malakay rolled his eyes. Balatar always talked nonsense. He didn’t have a filter for what he thought, but that was probably the reason why he liked him. Malakay never established closer relationships with other families, but he considered the Kaptarish boy a friend.

When people talked about mixing up with other families, Malakay felt extra pressure on his shoulders. He didn’t like the idea at all. For him, all families were lesser than the Ninfires and not enough for him. He kept hoping that they would find another Ninfire family in the future. After all, many ships had once departed with them. He’d seen many of them perishing in the sea- to the Verbolg, the sea monster. But some of them had also vanished mysteriously. Perhaps they’d already found their own way to Gambir and waited for them there. Perhaps they would reach this land soon. Until then, he would remain loyal to his blood lineage. 

Malakay didn’t care if their father had already talked to them about the mixing need. His mother didn’t like the idea, and he cared mostly what she thought. He didn’t want to father a child from a lesser family, a son with mixed features between his and another What would happen if their child couldn’t fly? What type of Ninfire would that be? Malakay couldn’t find a valid reason to mix with others if they could lose their gifts in the end. It was better to die as a true Ninfire than to deteriorate with time.

Look, your father is coming down, Balatar pointed upwards.

Where is our mother? Wendire whispered.

Where is she? Elisea joined them, stepping forward. She was the youngest of the Ninfire girls.

I’m pretty sure that our mother has chosen to remain up there, Malakay answered, feeling a sinking sensation in his stomach. He pressed his lips. It wasn’t fair. If something had happened to their mother, the other families would be the responsible ones. Yet up above him, the only one floating down was their father.

Malakay, A loud voice came from the boat next to them. It was Marquesh Drontas.  Nartop would give his life to protect your mother, so I’m pretty sure she’s well, he added.

Malakay nodded. What do you know of that? He thought to himself. His father was a coward, after all.

Tristen- The circle

F ather, do you think something happened to Mandely? asked Tristen Drontas, one of the twin sons of the Drontas family. Up above, he watched Nartop descending from the cliffs. Different from his brother Aman, Tristen was taller and slimmer. The white hair that surrounded his head had been trimmed on both sides, and various etchings and drawings embroidered the shaved parts. Two diamond earrings pierced both of his ears.

Nothing happened to her, Marquesh replied, That old man would die to protect Mandely, Marquesh Drontas winked at him.

Maybe he couldn’t, somehow, Tristen swallowed hard. He placed his hands on his waist, feeling the white fur coat that covered his chest open in the middle. The wind touched his bare skin.

That I don’t know, son. Let’s hope that this is not the case, or else it would be a bad start for all of us, his father crossed his arms as he rocked in place. 

Tristen Drontas respected his father. For him, his brave father symbolized wisdom and leadership. The Drontas were known for their brute force, but they were much more than that, and Marquesh Drontas had made it a personal goal to make his family wise and sensitive. We are not a bunch of brute muscles, he’d repeated to them several times. Watch, my children, observe. People do things for a reason. There are more layers underneath what they show. You would be amazed at how different people are from what they say they are. Tristen remembered his father’s words.

As Nartop closed the distance from the boats, Tristen heard the Ninfires asking about their mother. Malakay, with the strongest voice, asked out loud, Where is our mother?

She is okay, Nartop said with a hoarse, almost sunken-in voice, as he descended towards them.

Tristen observed Malakay from a distance. He’d never liked the oldest Ninfire sibling. Malakay was cocky and arrogant. His ideas of family purity were extreme, and he’d said the worst comments against the Verbaren. Having many good Verbaren friends and believing each family had their value, Tristen stayed away from the Ninfires’ oldest son.

Tristen’s father had already talked to them about the need to mix with other families in the future. Find a wise girl. It doesn’t matter which family she belongs too, Marquesh had told him. But Tristen worried more about their future. It didn’t matter if he found a good girl or not; they had to survive first. The death of his younger sisters had struck him at his core, feeling a deep ache in his heart each time he remembered the girls. And even though his older surviving sisters, Gabrielle and Anabelle, were probably stronger than him, he’d made it his task to watch after them. 

When Tristen and his brother, Aman, had turned twenty years old, his father had given each one a necklace with a blue stone- the Drontas oracles. They would later pass the stones to their respective sons at the time when they turned twenty. Since they would have twin sons each, Tristen and Aman each had to find and forge a blue opal for the second son. Tristen’s oracle was different from Aman’s. Tristen had received the one forged by his father, and Aman had inherited the one from their family. The forged