Page 123 of Tharn's Hunt
Carvings. Thousands of them. Flowing across the stone like water. In the center of the chamber stands a raised dais with a single stone column, worn smooth by the passage of countless claws.
"This," Kol projects, his mental voice feeling like it reverberates through the chamber, "is the Hall of Knowing."
Jah-kee releases my claw, stepping forward with wonder etched on her face. "It's beautiful," she whispers, turning slowly to take in the panorama of images. "How old is it?"
"Older than memory," Kol answers. "Older than the clan."
I watch her closely as she approaches the nearest wall, her fingers hovering just above the surface. I know what she sees—what all see when they first enter this sacred space.
The beginning.
"These figures," she vocalizes, tracing the air above an elaborate carving before switching back to mindspeak. "They're... different. Not Drakav."
"TheDaughters of Ain," I project, moving to stand beside her. "The First Ones."
The carving shows tall, slender figures with flowing head-fur like Jah-kee’s that seems to move even in stone. Unlike the angular, muscular forms of Drakav, these beings appear soft, curved, almost luminous. Their eyes are large, their features delicate, and around them swirl what look like small particles.
"They look... almost human," Jus-teen comments, joining us. "But not quite."
"The Daughters of Ain," Kol projects. "Sacred. Divine."
I point to the next panel, where the figures stand with arms outstretched, the particles flowing from their fingertips toward what appear to be stone columns.
"The Giving Stones," I project, the sacred words flowing naturally despite their weight. "Where all Drakav emerge into the dust."
Jah-kee's brow furrows. "Emerge? You mean... You weren't born? You were created?"
Born. The word has no edges. No meaning. It is a sound without a shape in my mind.
"We emerge," I confirm. "The Daughters shaped us from the dust and the light. Then we wake in the stone."
Her eyes widen, darting between me and the carving. "That's... that's not how reproduction usually works."
Re-production…
The word floats through the mindspace. I tilt my head, trying to grasp the concept. Before I can ask, a flash of Jah-kee’s thoughts hits me. Vivid and hot and disorienting.
Me. Her. In my alcove. Her legs spread, my body pressing into hers, slow and deep.
Heat surges through me instantly, my member stiffening at the memory of claiming her. My loincloth tents and Kol notices immediately. His gaze drops to his unchanged pouch, before shifting to Rok’s loincloth, too.
But Kol’s confusion is easy to ignore because my own confusion follows just as quickly. I cannot imagine how sheathing myself in Jah-kee could create a new Drakav. The thought makes no sense. She is not a Giving Stone.
"I do not understand. You are not… stone."
Jah-kee goes still, her lips parting as her face floods with color. Her thoughts scatter wildly in the mindspace, making it impossible to follow a single thread.
Behind us, Jus-teen makes a strangled sound, somewhere between a gasp and a groan. I glance back at her in concern, but Rok is already at her side, his claws brushing her arm.
"Jus-teen," he rumbles softly, his golden eyes scanning her face. "You are unwell?"
"No," she squeaks, her vocalization even higher than usual. Her gaze darts to Jah-kee. "No, I’m fine. Totally fine."
Kol steps forward, his gaze shifting between them. "Reproduction," he repeats slowly, tasting the word like foreign prey. "What does this mean?"
"It’s not important," Jah-kee shakes her head. But even though she does not communicate it, her mental space does. Her voice is tight and strained.
"It is important," I counter, turning back to her. "You said it works differently. Jah-kee, please explain."
