Cutting the Thread Chapter 1

          “The mosquitoes have been bad this year my lady.” A young woman looked up from where she sat on the woven grass mats on the floor. She had been writing something on a small desk that sat in front of her.

            “Yuuka,” the corners of her mouth pulled up in an ironic smile. “Truly,” She rubbed her hands over her red spotted forearms loosely covered in large bell shaped sleeves, “much worse than I have any recollection of. Your mother’s cream does help with the itch.”

            The woman who had initiated the conversation smiled, careful not to show teeth, as that was not done among the upper classes. The priestess was not of an upper class, but she has the bearing of a princess. It was hard to believe that she could have been an orphan before dedicating herself to the temple. She was a tall young woman, with skin paler than that of anyone else in the city and hair the color of ripe wheat. Though the priestess was not ugly, neither was she a striking beauty; her strangeness made her beautiful in a city full of olive skinned, black haired women.

            There were whispers that she was not human at all, but a halfblooded loai. Yuuka knew better though; she had been the one to find the priestess washed up on the beach, half drowned, among the ship’s debris and dead sailors. The shipwrecked orphan girl who had been taken in by the High Priest of Maduve had grown into an impressive young woman.

            “I will tell Mother you are grateful, Priestess.” Yuuka presented the young priestess with a ceramic jar corked with wax.

            “I will always be grateful to you and your mother.” These seemed like simple words of thanks, but Yuuka heard the weight behind them.

            “It was years ago, Priestess, no need to go reminding everyone of it. Besides it is my mother’s job to save people’s lives. She says she has a duty to war with Lord Death.”

She stood and turned to leave, stopping just before reaching the door. “Is it too forward of me to ask if you’re still getting flowers?”

            The priestess frowned. “I do not mind you asking, you are my friend, Yuuka.” She sighed then answered, “My nighttime visitor prays on my mind.” While Yuuka was glad to be called a friend by the priestess, she wondered if the woman had any real friends, or only persons like herself who respected her but were too intimidated by her to claim a relationship.

            “It has been innocent until now has it not? You’ve been getting them since spring, so maybe it’s nothing to trouble yourself about. Has your father said anything?” She asked referring to the high priest of Maduve who adopted the priestess almost ten years ago.

            “He believes it to be one of the novices, perhaps a girl I was kind to. Only those on official business, novices, and priests are allowed in this part of the temple.”

            “The high priest is probably right. Don’t worry too much, you’ll make yourself sick and get wrinkles.” Yuuka bowed humbly to the priestess before leaving and slid the door closed behind her. Despite Yuuka’s words the priestess was concerned about her nighttime visitor. Even if the intent was innocent, what type of person would creep into a woman’s room under cover of darkness? She felt as if her privacy had been invaded, and surely if it was a grateful novice as her father had proposed, the flowers would have stopped appearing after a week or more, it was now high summer and the blossoms were still beside her pillow every morning.