Silent Freedom- CH1

Chapter 1.

Golden strands of silky hair whipped in Tacita’s face as she sat astride Zareh, her nearmhor mate; a giant, feline species.  Tacita was of the Diomhair peoples, each village member had a nearmhor mate; Tacita’s was Zareh.  She’d found her nearmhor mate when she was a mere year old, and Zareh was a kitten.  Now, at seventeen, the two shared an unbreakable bond.
Zareh let out a whoof of suggestion as the dark clouds that had been looming on the horizon picked up pace, and headed towards the duo.  Tacita pursed her lips and glared at the sky; a storm was coming.  The electrical buzz in the air, the fierce wind, and a deep rumble in the distance proved her theory correct.  Tacita tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear and silently told Zareh to return home.  Tacita didn’t need to tell Zareh what to do; he just knew.  For years they’d spent every waking moment together; most of the time they could almost read each other’s minds.
The giant golden cat picked up speed, sprinting away from the cliff’s edge they’d been standing on only moments before.  The nearmhor’s monstrous paws thudded the ground, causing the earth to shake, and leaves to skitter away with force, “Like the wind.” Tacita’s emerald green eyes shone with fleeting freedom, and Zareh’s own sparked with pleasure and willingly, he jolted into a gallop.  His mate leaning low over his shoulders, Zareh thundered through the trees, dodging fat raindrops as the curtain of storm washed over them.
Tacita’s eyes closed for a brief moment as she savored the liberating sensation.  It was like flying.  Thunder cracked, and through her lids the world was lit for a second as lightening sliced through the dark sky.  Her eyes fluttered open, her glowing green eyes swirling with determination.  As soon as she returned home, her freedom would once again be suppressed, and she’d be forced back into the daily routine as a Diomhair woman.
Slowly but surely the Diomhair village came into view, to any wanderer it may look just like a mountain surrounded by trees, but Tacita knew otherwise.  Zareh slowed slightly and began swerving as the trees thickened, and the forest grew more and more dense.  Tacita’s long, slender legs clung tightly to her feline’s sides as they sprinted through the brush.  Suddenly, out of nowhere, they were in the city.  Small huts made of wood and leaves lined a dirt road which wound up to a magnificent palace.  The Diohmair people had lived here for centuries, perhaps longer.  To the outsiders, Diomhair was a myth, nothing more than a legend kept alive by elderly storytellers who claimed to have gone into battle against the mythical ‘Nearmhor Riders’.
The Diomhair peoples prided themselves on keeping their home and lives a secret. Sheltered from the warring outside world, they were safe to live as they always had.  An ancient culture, with many customs and regulations, the people were a society built strongly on tradition.
“Have a good ride?” a mirchant asked from beside her.  Tacita nodded, “Good, good.” he smiled, “Storms coming isn’t it?” Tacita nodded again; she wasn’t one for words, “Right. Well you have a nice day, Tacita.” she smiled tightly at the mirchant and his own nearmhor mate- an elderly feline with scraggly brown fur and yellowing teeth.  Zareh continued down the road, as he walked, Tacita slid from his back, landing in the dirt ground.  She managed to duck under an overhang of a nearby store as the rain caught up to them.  Zareh let out a moan of displeasure as he dropped his rear into the mud.  His soulful eyes begged her to take him with her, out of the rain; but Tacita only offered a sympathetic smile before ducking into the tiny shop.
An elderly woman sat in the far corner of the dark, dusky store.   Her back was hunched, her tiny frame frail with age.  Long, white hair laid gently across her shoulders; a matching shade to her shocking white eyes.  Tacita didn’t pause as she entered, the woman glanced up; though seeing nothing through her blinded eyes she smiled, “Tacita dear.”
“Ghama.” Tacita brushed a kiss on her grandmother’s forehead before turning and straightening a long shelf full of knickknacks.
“I trust your ride was well?”
“Yes it was.”
“Wonderful, your Grahpa would be so pleased of how you and Zareh have bonded.” Ghama stopped for a moment, dropping her scraggy hands to her lap, a wave of sadness swept over her features, and Tacita glanced at the ground.  Her grandfather had been dead for seven years now.  He’d run the very shop they now stood in before he’d passed.  It had closed when he’d died for quite some time, until Ghama had decided to reopen it.  Her eye sight had slowly dissipated over the following year, till it was completely gone.  The store and it’s business had quickly gone down hill after that.  Tacita tensed her jaw as she turned back to the shelves and dusted them off.  This place had once been so full of life, love and light.  Now the shelves were covered with a thick layer of grime, and dust. The windows were shut and boarded up.  Ghama’s only talent was weaving intricate wall hangings from leaves, feathers, twigs and vines.  They were beautiful- but they just weren’t enough.
Tacita’s family had been supporting Ghama for the last few years, it was only a mater of time before Ghama went to join her long lost husband.  Tacita frowned at the thought, then quickly shrugged it off.  Ghama was one of the few people she actually spoke to.  Tacita had always been quiet, not just shy, but silent-like.  Rare did one hear her speak a word if it wasn’t directed at her grandmother, Zareh, her father or second eldest brother.  That was unless she had to.
“I have to go now, mother is expecting me.” Tacita brushed an affectionate hand over her grandmother’s shoulder before embracing her gently and striding quickly out the door.  Zareh looked pitiful, sitting slumped in a mud puddle while rain pelted his golden coat.  He harrumfed at Tacita with such aggravation that it made her laugh out loud, “Home then.” she said softly as she leapt onto his back.

“About time. You’ll catch your death of a cold out there, and you have chores to do.” Ezmah leapt to her feet as Zareh and Tacita neared their home.  They lived in the east wing of the palace, while Chief Naresh lived in the main section of the grand building.  Tacita rolled her eyes at her mother and thought something she probably shouldn’t have in the back of her mind.  The people were milling about the courtyard; running to and fro, holding baskets and blankets over their head as the rain poured down - nearmhor mates trotting along after their Diomhair counterparts, carrying their loads, or pulling carts.  Zareh wove in and out of the people and cats with ease.  The palace proved for little assistance in sheltering it’s people from the rain; but it was a sight to behold none the less.  With spiraling towers of ivory and marble, vines slowly crept up their sides, and banners and flags fluttered in the wind.  As Zareh finally made it under the protective roof, Tacita slid from his back and padded over the cool, marble floor with her bare feet.  Ezmah tapped her foot irritatedly; it was bad enough her daughter insisted on disappearing for hours a a time with her nearmhor, but today she looked a wreck; her silky golden hair tussled and tangled from the wind and rain, her face streaked with mud and clothing dirty.
“Honestly. You’d think I had three sons.  You’ll never find a husband if you continue to act that way.” she glowered at her eldest daughter.  Tacita shrugged and slipped past her mother, towards the entrance to their home.  “Tacita! Zareh!” a toddler with the same burning green eyes, and silky blonde hair streaked from the inside of their suite.  The tiny girl was Tacita’s youngest sister; Paola.  The youngling girl paused only momentarily to touch her elder sibling’s arm with affection before racing over to the giant cat.  For all Zareh’s ferocious protectiveness of his mistress, his monstrous size, and giant fangs, he was a sweetheart.  His purr echoed down the marble halls as the tiny girl clung to his muzzle; her tiny arms not even reaching all the way around.  Zareh’s tail wound quickly around her, providing a tight hug as she sat back and began to babble about her day.  Tacita smiled and shook her head in awe.  Her smallest sister had not yet been given a mate.  It was custom for the Diomhair peoples to choose their mate randomly at age three, when bonding is most effective.  Tacita had been lucky, and gotten a head start-- her uncle had worked in the Nearmhor Oasis, where the majority of the felines were born.  Tacita had been visiting with her parents when she’d disappeared for an hour, sending her mother into a frightening tizzy.  Finally they’d found her curled up with a tiny, four week old golden cub.  Tacita’s hair, and Zareh’s fur had been the same color at that age, and the two had looked simply angelic sleeping in a pile of hay in one of the many nests- or so her father told her.
“Dinner is ready soon.” Tacita’s next younger sister, Alida called from the table. Tacita nodded as she walked into the house, and pulled a fruit off the counter before jogging into her room to change out of her wet clothing.  She dawned a clean silk shirt, and traditional Diomhair skirt.  The women of the village had always worn these sorts of garments, the skirts loose and flowing, allowing the women to go about their daily work with ease.  The shirts were made of the same silk-like material; ties crisscrossed the back pulling them tight and keeping them out of the way.  Tacita hated the clothes, she wanted to wear the thin, comfortable cotton suit her father and two brothers donned daily.  Another aspect that for the life of her, Tacita could not control in her life, I wish I could choose what I wear. she thought as she tied up the annoying string back of her shirt.
“Zareh smells!” Ezmah complained, drifting into the suite with her youngest propped on a hip, “Brush him down, Tacita. Then you need to strip the fruit for tomorrows meal, and sweep out the foyer.” Tacita nodded and ducked past her mother. Truth be told she was glad to be out of the house with her mother, at least outside; behind the house, she could be alone with her thoughts, and with Zareh- her best friend.