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Planet Curaz

Theon

 

“Come on! Is that all you have?” Theon circles his opponent, Odias, a wild grin spreading across his fierce face.

Both males are dressed in loose-fitting white trousers, bare-chested, with sweat dripping from their brows.

“Fine, you asked for it,” Odias replies with a glint sparkling in his eye.

Odias races toward Theon, arms wide, and when he is only a few steps away, he leaps into the air and tackles Theon. The two of them crash hard against the ground. They roll wildly, each taking their turn on top until Theon pins Odias’ shoulders to the ground.

“Nice try, friend.” Theon leaps to his feet and reaches down and offers his friend a hand.

They clasp hands as Theon helps Odias to a standing position. “One day…” Odias grins and shakes his head as the two of them walk shoulder to shoulder over to the edge of the training field.

“Keep dreaming,” Theon jests as he cups his hands and dips water from the barrel, drinking a few handfuls before whipping his long hair away from his face.

Odias lets out a hearty laugh and smacks Theon on the shoulder.

Both turn and, with their arms folded across their chests, they watch the six others pair off to train.

“Who is the newcomer?” Odias asks as he watches the impressive male throw a punch.

“That’s Kiad, he’s from the Kii Clan. I invited him here to test his skills.”

The Kii Clan, one of the four clans of the South, resides along the eastern border. The Moark Clan resides against the western border, leaving the Cava and the Lusta Clans to border the north and south edges of the Southern Clan boundaries.

“He shows great promise.” Odias sounds impressed, which doesn’t happen often.

“Yes, he does. I knew he would be an asset the first time I laid eyes on him.” Theon watches for a little longer then claps his friend on the back. “I need to ready the supplies for our patrol. See you at the stables.”

Theon hasn’t made it but a few steps before he hears someone calling his name. Turning, he spots Tarra heading his direction with a wide smile.

He sighs silently; he doesn’t want to talk to her. There is just something about her that repels him, but he can’t explain what. All he knows is that if there is trouble with the females, Tarra is always involved…somehow.

Her eyes seductively roam his sweaty torso before meeting his eyes. “Your fighting skills are still as impressive as ever.”

He folds his arms across his chest and tries to sound respectful. “Thank you.”

Tarra, dressed in a long black gown that dips low in the front, flutters around, giving him a look at her ample breasts. “Would you like to share a meal with me tonight?”

Theon inclines his head and politely refuses. “I am leaving for patrol and will not be here.”

Her smile slips for a mere second. “Some other time then,” and he watches as she strolls away with a smile on her face.

~~~~

When Theon arrives at the stables, Odias is already there, packing his own supplies and readying the gamel.

Theon walks up to Coliea, his gamel, and pats the side of her wide, short face. “Hi there, Coliea,” he says in a soft voice, giving her some tender care.

Coliea, hand-raised by Theon since birth, has a true friendship with him built on trust and respect. Black in color with a blue stripe running down her back, she is as wild as Theon and just as daring.

Theon grabs some supplies, knowing it will be a moon cycle or two before he returns, and loads his panniers before mounting Coliea.

“Ready?” he asks Odias, who has already mounted his own gamel.

“Yes.” Taking the reins, the two of them head away from the stable, setting out on border patrol.

They never patrol the entire border; it’s done in sections.

They ride most of the day, the gamels going over rock and mushy grassland until they reach the camping grounds. It is routine, and each patrol has stopping points where they camp before continuing at first light.

The last rays of the sun start to fade when Theon grabs his long hunting knife. Just as he heads away from the camp, he throws a quick “I’ll be back!” over his shoulder.

Not knowing if Theon can even hear him, Odias still calls out, “I’ll gather the wood and get the fire roaring.”

Treading up a rocky mountain, the one that separates the two major clans, Theon spots a garr. Hunched down low, he waits as the beast walks with its head down in his direction. They are slow creatures but fierce and deadly, with their large size, claws, and sharp teeth.

Just as it passes Theon’s hiding spot, he leaps to his feet and rushes the animal, letting out a battle cry. Jumping on the garr’s back, he stabs his knife deep into the creature’s neck.

Not giving up easily, the garr stands at least nine feet tall on its two back legs and thrashes wildly, trying to throw Theon off.

With his arms circling the creature’s neck, he locks his knees over its sides. Grabbing the hilt of the knife that protrudes from the neck, he stabs the creature two more times. Blood gushes out, pouring onto the ground. Theon feels the garr slow as he holds on for dear life. Timing it just right, he jumps from the creature’s back before it tumbles lifeless to the ground.

Breathing heavily, he stands victorious over his prey. The pelt will make an excellent liner for his pallet, and the meat will feed them for days to come.

Kneeling at the garr’s side, Theon grabs one front leg and one back leg, lifting the creature over his shoulders. He strains with the effort but still manages to get to his feet.

Theon’s steps are heavy when he enters camp, and he drops the garr on the ground near Odias’ feet, causing a loud thump.

Odias’ face splits wide as he pokes at the raging fire. Glancing at Theon, he shakes his head. “I knew you would go after a garr.”

Theon wipes the sweat from his brow. “You know me well, my friend.” As he walks past Odias, he claps him on the shoulder. “We will eat well tonight.”

After cutting up the meat, they roast some over the open fire while packing the rest in sarka, a natural preservative that will cure the meat and keep it from spoiling.

They sit on flat rocks that surround the fire pit, eating the cooked meat. The sound of crackling embers as the fire dies down and the occasional roar of an animal keep them company as they continue to eat. Odias finishes his food, licks his fingers, then asks, “Do you think Toran will have any luck finding a compatible race?”

Theon never really thinks about Toran and the great beyond. Not that he is happy living a life of solitude. Nights grow lonely, and at times he wishes he had someone to share his pallet. But there is no reason to talk about things you cannot change.

For unknown reasons, the female population is dwindling. Some speculate that the Northern Clan is to blame, claiming that one day they will take over the entire planet. But in truth, scientists cannot find a logical reason.

The ratio now is one female for every hundred males, and most have given up hope of finding someone. Especially Theon.

Born to the ruling clan, he is an anomaly. His hair and eyes clearly mark him as different. Theon’s hair shines brighter, his eyes lighter, his strength unmatched by anyone in the Southern Clan. Rumors have spread far and wide that he is cursed; others claim he is the Chosen. His family keeps him at arm’s length, not sure what to make of the difference.

Odias, the son of the maid’s lady who raised Theon, is his one and only true friend. Growing up, they had their own scuffles, but they never lasted. Odias is more of a brother to Theon than Jeat will ever be.

“I’m not sure.” Theon gnaws on his meat before looking at his friend with a smile plastered on his face. “Could you imagine taking an alien female as a mate?”

Odias laughs. “We could get lucky, and she would have three breasts.”

“Knowing my luck, she would have two heads and three eyes.”

When the laughter dies down, Odias’ face turns more serious. “Would you consider one of the females from the Commons?”

Theon thinks about it. That question has popped into his mind several thousand times, especially when his nights have grown lonely. Many females try to gain his attention, but in all honesty, none of them has really drawn his attention for longer than a night of bed sport.

Growing up different made him a stronger person on the inside, and except for his best friend, Odias, he depends only on himself.

Every time a female approaches him, which is often, he holds himself back and offers only polite conversation and appropriate smiles. Only every now and then when the need grows strong does Theon take a female to her bed, not his.

“No, not really. None of them really interests me. How about you? Are you hoping to gain someone’s attention?” Odias grins, and with his head down, he lifts his eyes. Theon’s face splits wide. “Ah, I see. Who is she?”

“I have been talking to Shena.”

Theon furrows his brow, thinking. “She’s the quiet one who sits apart from the other females.”

“That’s her. She’s different. At least I think she’s different.”

“How so?”

“She doesn’t believe in jumping from one male to the next.”

“She told you this?”

“She did. She doesn’t like living in the Commons. She would rather be topside.”

Theon’s eyes shot to his friend, holding his stare, and then offering a genuine smile. “That sounds promising.”

“Yes, it does. But the other females are giving her a hard time because of it.”

“Let me guess, Tarra is one of them.”

Odias nods.

Of course she is. The females know they hold power over the males, knowing they can give them offspring. Tarra, the obvious leader of the Commons, has been after Theon for a long time, but he can’t shake the bad feeling that springs forth every time she nears. He feels like a pawn in some sort of unknown game.

“I can’t explain why, but I feel like that female is bad news.”

“I agree.”

Odias grabs his pack and unrolls a blanket, stretching it across the grassy area. Theon stands and stretches his arms above his head before grabbing his own blanket.

With one arm behind his head, Theon lies down, staring at the stars. “See you in the morn,” he hears Odias say, followed by the rustle of clothing as he turns onto his side.

“G’night, friend.”

The first streaks of light race across the sky, waking Theon. Odias is already awake, his blanket rolled and packed on the gamel.

“You should have woken me.” Theon sits up and rubs his eyes before leaping to his feet.

Odias throws him a smile over his shoulder. “I knew you would wake soon.” Walking over to the last embers of the smoking fire, he kicks dirt over the top, effectively putting out the fire.

Theon packs the extra meat into his pannier, then pats the side of Coliea’s face before mounting the animal in one swift move. “Ready to head out?”

Odias mounts his own. “Yes, let’s go.”

The two ride the border, looking for trespassers or other unusual signs that someone has been in their territory. Nothing out of the ordinary catches their attention as they guide the gamels over the rough terrain. Two moon cycles pass before they arrive back at the stables.

Just as they are unpacking the stored meat, Yori comes rushing in.

“What’s wrong?” a startled Theon asks the young male.

“Did you hear the news?” He’s panting, and he leans over and places his hands on his knees.

Odias’ fingers work the pannier straps as he looks over his shoulder with curious eyes. “What news?”

“Toran arrived home today! And he brought someone with him!”

“Whom did he bring?” Theon asks as he lifts the pannier of stored meat and slings it over his shoulder.

“A female with dark hair, at least that is what I heard.”

“You have not yet seen her?”

“No, but I will head to the female Commons soon. Maybe I will catch a glimpse of her.” The look of pure delight shines on Yori’s face as he trots off.

“Do you think… Is it possible that Toran has found a compatible race?”

Theon thinks about it and then shrugs. “Why else would he bring home a female from another planet?”

If Toran has found a compatible species, hope will rise throughout the Southern Clan. For a brief second, Theon ponders the female. Where does she come from? What does she look like? Instead of heading to the female Commons, Theon heads in the other direction with a smile on his face. He’s happy for the others, but he has work to do. The meat must be stored.