The Succling and Her Dues

Chapter Two: Act 3

[Persian District, 1730 (Continued…)]

The journey back to the safety of Anara’s secluded hut seemed longer than she had anticipated. Heat from the high sun pierced through the foliage, sweat conspiring to rain down on her flesh. The spotted, four-legged beast, having tired of being carried, jumped out of her arms and fainted from the impact of its hooves colliding with the ground.

Suppressing a laugh, Anara tugged on Syifus’ collar. He halted, glancing behind at the little creature on the ground. He lay down, allowing Anara to slip away and tend to the animal.

And while she sat beside the kid, Syifus stood up, transforming from an ox to a tall man in a fitted emerald tunic. His raven curls matched the coating of his animal hide, unlike his eyes, which lapped in pools of fiery gold.

“Are you thirsty?” he asked.

“Parched,” Anara replied, a subtle sigh escaping. She looked up, shocked to see a man standing before her. Shooting up from the ground, she looked around frantically for the ox. “What have you done with him?”

“Be not afraid, little flower.” He pulled out a pouch from underneath the folds of his garment and extended it out to her. “I am that very ox.”

She backed away, still unsure if what he said was true. But he sounded like him. She clutched onto her pendant, feeling at ease with his presence. If what she had witnessed before with the woman in the field—and two years prior with Death—was tangible, then surely the mysterious man was Syifus. She accepted the pouch, guzzling the contents of the bloated sack until every drop left its opening.

Embarrassed, she handed it back to him. “You are so kind to me. I thank you.” She glanced at the opening of his tunic.

A lengthy pale scar stretched across his honey-toned chest where his heart would be. She wondered what had caused it. Desired to know what had inflicted such a beautiful scar—one that resembled much of the white tufts of oxen hair that had been on his animal form.

“I should be thanking you.” A smile broadened on his face, his teeth so pristine and pearly.

Anara’s cheeks tinged a bright red. She looked away, realizing she had stared at him for far too long. “Whatever for?” Besides her encounter with Death, she had never before seen a man with such features. Truly, he was a god she read about in the Perochían scrolls.

“All will be revealed in due time. For now, we must get you back home. Your mother must be distressed by your absence.” He whistled, the herd of goats gathering around him.

“What are you?” Anara blurted out, having wished she could take it back. “Forgive me. I should not have—”

He chuckled. “I am much like the woman you saw, but I have lived among the gods longer than any incubus under the earth.”

“Then are you a god or a demon?”

“Both. Neither. Much like you.”

“Like me?”

He strolled toward her, his hands clasping together behind his back. “I cannot say who blessed you. All you must know, in this moment, is that you are…” Syifus stopped himself. His lips pursed. But his eyes widened, filled with more to say. “Forgive me. My lips have wandered away from me.”

Though she wanted him to finish, she did not press him further. She tipped her head forward and smiled. “I suppose time will tell.”

“Indeed.”

☽☀☾

The sunset’s glow loomed over a singular hut in the center of an open field. Foraging chickens clucked and pecked at worms and ants. Cattle leisurely grazed away at the stalks of grass within the confines of their gated enclosure.

Aggressively milking a chestnut cow, Nanektah muttered to herself in her Periochían tongue, wishing for Anara’s safe return. As if her prayers had been answered, she looked up, relieved. She dashed away from the gentle giant, accidentally kicking the bucket over and spilling her collection of secreted fluids.

Anara sprinted toward Nanektah, tears of joy spilling down her face. It was as though she was seeing her mother, again, after being apart for too long.

“Tê klaré!” Nanektah embraced her, letting gravity pull them to the ground. She showered Anara with forehead kisses before pulling back and studying Anara’s eyes. “It is not like you to return so late. Whatever happened?”

Before Anara could respond, Syifus approached them, a subtle smile on his face. “Do not concern yourself with the past. She is safe. It is all that matters.”

“It is you…” Nanektah’s lips curled into a brilliant grin, then helped Anara up from the ground.

Syifus bowed and chimed, “A secular witch who dwells under the thousands of stars—”

“Prays for Death’s blessings but seeks refuge among the living,” Nanektah finished. It rolled off her tongue, though it had been years since she recited that oath. “It has been far too long, Syifus.”

“Indeed it has.”

Anara glanced between them, puzzled. “You know of him, Mama?”

Nanektah nodded, grasping Anara’s hand. She squeezed it lovingly, an all-knowing sign that silently told Anara they had much to discuss that night.

Stars twinkled behind the rolling clouds, lightning striking from a reasonable distance away. Syifus pursed his lips, narrowing his gaze at the darkening of the cottony film. “Both of you should stay put,” he commanded in a hushed tone. “It seems his favors are amiss.”

“Who?” Anara asked.

“The gods may have all gone, but one still collects what is promised to him.”

Nanektah stiffened, clenching her jaw. “No storm will conquer my home,” she stated. “Join us. Provisions are waiting within the hut.”

“I am afraid that will not be possible.” He reluctantly placed a hand on Nanektah’s shoulder, lightly squeezing it. “If you did not heed before… He always collects.”

“Do not leave us!” Anara pleaded, tugging at the hem of his sleeve. “If what you say is true, we will be lost without you. Promise you will stay!”

He pulled her in for a tight hug. “I cannot. I made a promise.”

“To whom was that promise granted?”

“It matters not who. I cannot tell you.”

Anara briefly looked at Nanektah for help but noticed the distant gaze. Her mother was lost in thought. Remembering that Syifus could grant prayers, she asked, “What would it take for you to grant me a promise?”

Stunned by her request, Syifus pulled away. Her doe-like eyes and brewing tears set something ablaze in his heart. He could not explain it. It was a similar feeling he had earlier that day. He caved. “Ask of me, and it shall be granted.”

Anara touched her pendant, then bent down, plucking an iris flower. She took his hand and placed the flower on his palm, caging it with his fingers. “Promise that whatever danger befalls me, you will come to protect me.”

“I will grant—”

“And… that you will always be at my side when it matters most.” Her eyes pierced through his, begging for him to accept.

Syifus was lost for words. A tingling sensation crept up his spine and spread through his chest. Never in the thousands of years he had been alive had he ever felt warm. Humans worshiped him, but this experience… Can this be how mortals feel? He thought. Shrugging away the strange phenomenon, he smiled at her. “I promise.”

Distant barking sent the chickens into a frenzy. Their pronged feet and flapping wings added to their stress as they scurried about and hid among bushes surrounding boulders. The cattle mooed and the goats bleated. Some lay down, wiping their snouts on the stalks of wheat scattered around. Others stood near posts, leaning their bodies against the makeshift structure that corralled them.

“Farewell, little flower,” Syifus said, hugging Anara once more. He turned to Nanektah, bowing. Realizing she was unresponsive, he reached out and wiped a tear from her cheek, which brought her back to them.

She gasped, confused as to what was happening. “Is it time already?”

He sent her a curt nod. “Take care, Nanektah. May Death favor you tonight.” He trailed back to the woods, disappearing beyond thick trunks and foliage.

“Come,” Nanektah commanded. “There is much for us to discuss.”