It’s another Trixikka, which isn’t strange. There’s plenty of them, and they often stare at us women. But this guy -Zuul or Zole I think his name is- his staring feels different.
As the lesson progresses, Tyll manages to carve out two large chunks of glowing life-stone and is pretty pleased with himself. “Do you think I could give one of them as an offering to the Temple?” he asks Zyntarr.
I watch the big man snort and shake his head with affection, ruffling the little boy’s hair before saying, “I think you should keep them until you are of age, Tyll. With your natural stone carving skills, you will have a whole hoard of life-stones to offer.”
There’s some murmuring among the other Trixikka boys and I hear a few of the older ones gripe to each other about how life-stone carving isn’t as important as fighting skills. They’re just feeling sour because they managed to chip their stones with their chisels, shattering the glowing rocks into tiny pieces instead of the two impressively sized ones that Tyll managed to prize from the boulder.
I’m about to step in to try and redirect those sore attitudes to trying again, explaining that even though they all want to be thebig, strong Protectors when they grow up, the tribe won’t thrive without the Gatherers, Craftsmen, Hunters, Carers, Healers. Not all their lessons need to be on fighting techniques. But I’m stopped in my tracks when I witness Tyll squeal, dropping his hammer and chisel to run toward the Trixikka who had continued to stand there staring at me throughout the whole lesson. “Father! You are here!”
Father?
Zuul or Zole, or whatever it must be, is Tyll’s biological dad?
The male doesn’t crouch down to be at Tyll’s height when he scampers excitedly up to him. He doesn’t even smile in the boy’s direction. I shouldn’t be surprised to see that kind of indifference from a Protector, but I always am. Those guys are basically just sperm donors who get the honor of being called a father. I learnt that once the Temple graces these guys with an actual child, they have a choice; become a Carer to raise the boy themselves, or continue to be a Protector - the ones that spend a lot of time patrolling the jungle and the skies. And Tyll’s dad decided to remain as a Protector.
It’s not lost on me that the way my heart sinks for little Tyll and all the other boys whose fathers chose their prestigious standing in the tribe over parenting them is kind of hypocritical. I gave my daughter away after all. But… well, they offered up their ‘seed’ to the Temple, knowing what might come of it - hoping for it, actually. All for them to just ignore the child excitedly running up to them?
The male catches me watching him - in truth, he’s been staring at me the whole time, and I’ve only thrown him glances up until now. He smiles at me, a white toothed grin like he’d just won a prize now that he has my attention.
And then he just completely ignores his son in favor of swaggering over to me, his long tail swishing back and forth behind him. It’s then that I see the glints of gold - the ‘daughterbands’ that the Trixikka wear to honor the female children they supposedly have that are being kept safe inside the Temple. This guy has five.
Hereallywanted the status that comes with having fathered children.
I avert my eyes from his as he approaches, only to see little Tyll trying to keep up with his father’s long strides. “And then, I actually got my own life-stone out,all my by myself!” I hear the little boy say, desperate for his father’s acknowledgement.
“Bea,” the male grins down at me. “I am Zuul,” he says, holding out his hand with the palm facing upward.
I look at his hand. This is a fairly common occurrence with the Trixikka. Somewhere along the way one of the humans has told them about handshakes but they haven’t quite grasped how they’re really performed. They just know that hands touch and there’s shaking involved. I usually don’t bother to correct them, I just go along with it - they’re trying - and honestly, handshakes are stupid anyway. And with these Trixikka guys, as soon as they touch you, they’re instantly looking to check whether that little handshake was enough to ignite their heartstars.
But I don’t want to go along with this one. Something about this guy rubs me the wrong way. And it’s probably to do with how Tyll is still desperate for any kind of interaction with his dad.
So, instead of indulging him in an awkward handshake, I just look at his open palm until his smile fades and he retracts the greeting. “You’re Tyll’s father?” I ask, and it’s honestly the first time I see Zuul look down at the boy. Tyll’s little skin-stars start zooming all over the place with excitement under this new slither of attention.
“Yes,” he says, turning back to me again. “I am a most fertile male.”
My mind stutters to a stop because… what the hell do you say to that? Wow? Congratulations?
“I had not had the chance to introduce myself before now,” he continues, apparently unaware of my discomfort. “I am often on patrol, keeping you females safe,” he says, puffing up his chest and widening his wings a little. “And I had not approached you when I am at the village because I had hoped to ignite my heart-stars with of one of the other females.”
“O…kay?” Where is he going with this?
“But I see now, that it was a mistake to gift all my attention and seed offerings to the females who are more attractive. I should have noticed your skill with the younglings. You would care for the sons and daughters I sire with you very well, I am sure.”
My mouth hangs open.
Did he just-
“What did you just say?” The words are growled in such a low tone, I can almost feel them vibrate in my chest, like each syllable tickles my ribs. It sounds so unlike Zyntarr in a way, but somehow unmistakably him at the same time. I don’t need to look behind me to confirm it, I can feel his presence like a comforting blanket. Well, comfortingto me, at least.
Zuul’s eyes flick up to above my head, and suddenly that easy smile of his slides right off his face. “I-” he gulps as his gaze drops a little, and I know exactly what it is he’s looking for on Zyntarr.
He doesn’t find them.
And, just like that, Zuul seems to think an absence of heart-stars gives him license to just say whatever the hell he likes. “I am one of the most skilled with a spear, I am strong, and I have already sired many younglings,” he says, swishing his tail around to the front to show off his golden daughter bands. “So naturally, the Goddesses will be giving me a mate to sire moreon. I have tried to ignite my stars with the others, but I think it was a mistake to overlook this one-”
Zuuls words peter off into a strangled gurgle when there’s suddenly a large hand cuffed around his throat, lifting him off the ground. Zyntarr had gently stepped around me, though he’d done it so quickly, I’d hardly noticed the movement. “You donotsay these words to a female,” he snarls in the other male’s face. “Especially not my-”
“Father! Zyntarr! No!”
