Lacia D'Opidium

By Miguel Angel Ojera All Rights Reserved ©

Fantasy / Scifi

Chapter 7

I had come out of Llena’s hut the next day after making love to her when I was met with Lacia D’Opidium standing in front of the hut with a contingency of other Gris and Obscuros, her hands to her waist. She was again wearing a dress, this one was a midnight blue looking dress with a sparkling set of stones around her neck just like the last time I have seen.

Unlike the last time she had that mane of hers loose and it was long and flowing. It nearly stopped me in my tracks, but I was just too angry at her to care. She had dared to come and find me. I could not forgive her for that.

“So, you are here,” Lacia said sounding rather snarky.

“What in Bel’hatore are you doing here?” I asked her.

“Did you just mate with someone?” Lacia said waving her hand around her muzzle as if trying to clear the air.

“What does that matter to you?” I asked.

“I’m your betrothed…” she started but I snarled at her.

“I do not care for you,” I said.

Though seeing her again after all this time, and seeing her as a clearly developing female, did interest me this time around. I hated to admit it at that time however, she was attractive, even more attractive than Llena.

“What are you doing here Behemet are you simply rejecting your responsibility as your father thinks you are?” Lacia said.

“That does not matter to you,” I said.

“It does when you are my betrothed.” Lacia said

“Listen I don’t care about that, I do not care what my father’s plans were with you and I, I have carved my own path.” I said angrily at her. “So, if you know what is right, you need to get out of here before I decide to do something against you.”

Lacia seemed like she was thinking what I was saying for a long time.

“Your father is worried about you, if you decide to stay here, fine at least give word to him.” Lacia said and her and the contingency she bought with her left.

I thought that that was going to be the last interaction I had with Lacia or any members of the Gris or the Obscuros. A long time passed, before we started entering this bad drought.

This had occurred this past summer. Now this summer as you know we had a very hot dry summer. I had spent about a year or so with the Marrons, at this point. Llena and I were considered lovers and mates and many of the Marrons were waiting for us to have our first pups, though we were on the outer edges of being pups ourselves.

One day during the hottest days of that summer my father suddenly walked into the hut that Llena and I had. Llena was feeding grapes to me and we were talking about pups we would have and how we were going to change everything about the Bel’hatore Forest when I looked up and saw my father standing there.

“Your people need you and you are sitting here lounging?” my father said when he walked into the hut. I stood up and looked at him confused as to what he was doing here.

“What are you doing here father?” I asked.

“Are you blind to the drought that is happening?” my father asked.

“I’ve heard something about that,” I said.

“And you sit here and do nothing?” he asked.

“What you want me to do father? Pray to your Lord Brahma that fictional character who comes from the heavens?” I said snorting and Llena laughed.

“Even I did not think you would sink that low, Behemet.” He said.

“No father it is you who have sank low, perhaps if you pray to your Lord Brahma he will bring you rain.” I said in a very sarcastic manner.

“Do not blaspheme in my presence, Behemet.” He snarled.

“Okay, if you turn back around and go home I will blaspheme all I want when you’re gone.” I said sarcastically.

“Your mother is dying, Behemet.” my father said.

I stopped laughing the second he said that. I looked at him trying to read him, trying to see if he was joking about what he was saying or if he was telling the truth. His face was unreadable though. I couldn’t tell.

My father was always a prideful Beghrest, there was this old saying that one can show their emotions on their torso, my father however has not been one to follow that sort of description. However, as he stood there, I could tell there was something going on in his mind. He had never shown anything like that before.

“You’re being serious?” I asked.

“I would not kid about that,” my father said. “There is a lot of Gris and Obscuros dying now, Behemet thanks to this drought and I am sure even here you have been experiencing it.”

This was true I had been experiencing it, we had had some tough times especially the past few weeks. There was not that much food here and people started fighting each other for rations.

“So, the question is, are you going to take responsibility for helping the tribes that will soon be under you?” My father said. I was a bit bewildered by this, I looked at my father with this intense feeling of rage, he was now deciding to throw this responsibility in my face? I could not believe this. I realize that it was here that I had decided I was going to drain him into poverty. Yes that idea etched in my mind as I watched my father walk out of the shack.

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