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Thekherham's Worlds

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Thekherham's Worlds - TWENTY

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thekherham on Wed Mar 10, 2010 9:42 am

Before I get back to the discussion of the relationship between Tereskàdians and whistling dragons I will bring you up to date on family matters. Khe’ăr has settled into his new duties at the Department of Immigration quite comfortably, and has accepted the fact that a field job is no longer a viable option. He is now classified as an administrator, which means more pay. The first time he received his pay for his new job he called Sen ‘Hărlen to see if there hadn’t been a mistake. No mistake, Sen ‘Hărlen told him. That’s the amount of your salary. Khe’ăr wasn’t about to argue with those numbers.

Lheana has sold about half a dozen of the Tereskàdian fur sweaters. The usual complaint she receives from potential customers is that the sweaters are going to be itchy. When I am there, they look at me, apparently to see if I am going to scratch myself. But I do not scratch myself because it is not necessary. Still, Lheana’s sales could be better if it weren’t for the ignorant customers.

T’heril spends most of his time pouting. For three days after that incident I wrote about on the 17th he didn’t speak to anyone. He would spend hours in his room, listening to music, singing along, sometimes a bit too loud, because Khe’ăr would go to his room and tell him turn it down, or else. So the music would be turned down, and the singing would stop, and a short time after that the music would also stop. During meals he kept his eyes on his plate, and ate his food quickly so he could leave the table, and go back to his room. Lheana wanted to speak to him, but Khe’ăr laid a hand on her arm, and shook his head, in effect telling her that it would be useless to talk to the boy the way things are now.

Nykha hasn’t spoken to her brother since the incident. I think she is carrying things a little too far, but that is only the opinion of one Tereskàdian. But being a teenager, she lives in her own world, which includes close friends and venues that she likes to frequent. During the vacation month she has been out more than she has been at home which Khe’ăr and Lheana don’t mind because Nykha is very responsible. She has not been in any trouble, and she comes home at the time her parents request.

The younger twins, Arhen and Fhenha, spend all day playing, either outside, or inside, if the weather is too cold, or it is raining. Lately, it has been outside, because the weather has been mostly sunny, and there has been no precipitation, either in the form of rain, or snow, to speak of over the last couple of weeks. I have noticed that Arhen is the one who leads, the one who makes up the games, and Fhenha is the one who follows, obeying her brother’s directions and commands. On the rare occasion when Fhenha wants to play a game, her brother’s usual response is, That’s a dumb game. I know a better game. And Fhenha will drop any idea for a game she had, and follow her brother.

Rhalhea has received a job offer from Thyros Mharen at the university, which I find rather surprising since I didn’t know she was looking for a job. She said she was looking for something part-time, and Sen Mharen told her there was a position available as a part-time teacher’s helper. She would be in Jhorhea’s class three times a week, in the mornings. We are trying to find a place of our own, she said defensively, as if I would be upset. Of course I wasn’t upset; her goal of becoming independent was also my goal.

Jhorhea has spent most of the vacation month reading, and the operative word is ‘voraciously.’ She has gone to a small local library just two blocks away, sometimes by herself, sometimes with her friends, taking out mostly adventure books geared for females. Sometimes she takes out more technical books, and I wonder if she really reads them. When she is not reading, she is on the videophone, talking with her friends, sometimes too long because Rhalhea comes over, and says, You’re done now, and she had to stop her conversation, or Rhalhea will shut off the phone.

Rheža spends most of her time outside, with S’horžăm, watching him fly, and drinking from him. It is very often that I find the two of them lying on the living room floor, with S’horžăm on the bottom, and Rheža lying on his belly, sucking with her eyes closed, oblivious to everyone and everything around her. Since it is inadvisable to disturb a whistling dragon when his Tereskàdian is drinking, Alharhanians and Tereskàdians find a way around the two of them.

Jhalhemha has been in my chamber for two days now, and she spends most of her time sleeping and nursing. It is hard to believe that it will be ten more months before she makes her first appearace, but for now, I am enjoying this, because it means no going in and out of the chamber, nursing from the chamber teat, nursing from the chest teats. I know it is something all Tereskàdian parents have to get used to; Rhalhea and I have gone through this twice before, so one more time won’t make that much difference.

Thekherham is spending most of this vacation month walking along the bay, sometimes just with Kykherhenha, sometimes with Rhalhea and Keridhar. Rhalhea and I talk about a lot of theings, mostly saving money so we can live by ourselves. I don’t want to get an apartment, like Tez’hărhej, because I feel I was not meant to live in a building with Alharhanians. I want a house, maybe even one right here on Brežendra Road, by the water, with a big back yard so the cubs can play and swim.

I have started the first draft of my first column, and left it face down on a counter. I don’t want to look at it for a few days, and then I will see if I can improve it. I don’t expect to win any literary prizes with my writing, but I hope to improve as time goes on.

As for the sequel to my autobiography, let’s just say I have put aside my notes, because I am concentrating too much on the here and now. Kykherhenha tells me I should have continued my autobiography until the present time, but I convinced that ending it where I did was the only possible option.

One of the first questions a Tereskàdian usually gets is, Do you and your whistling dragon have sex? This is usually asked of a male Tereskàdian, because those who ask feel it would be impossible for a female Tereskàdian to engage in sexual intercourse with her whistling dragon because of the size of his organ. But male Tereskàdians and female whistling dragons? Oh, that is another matter. If they are that close, if he can drink from teats that are rather close to the genital region, why couldn’t they mate? What you perceive in your Alharhanian minds are things that make you jump to the wrong conclusions.

The simple fact is that Tereskàdians do not engage in sexual intercourse with their whistling dragons. I do not know how to put it more simply than that, but there are always Alharhanians who say, Oh, come on, you are not going to tell me that you can look at her genitals while your’re sucking, and not think of piercing her.

Ah, but that is where you, the Alharhanian, and I, the Tereskàdian, differ. Neither a female Tereskàdian or a female whistling dragon will respond sexually unless she is in heat, so if anyone thinks that a Tereskàdian is interested in anything sexual when he is any age but fifteen, twenty, and twenty-five, he is blatantly mistaken. I could not have six with a whistling dragon, or a female Tereskàdian, if I wanted to, so I don’t know why these moronic Alharhanians insist that just because I am a male and Kykherhenha is a female there has to be a sexual act.

Aha, they say, but what about mutual grooming? And I say, What does that have to do with anything? Sure, there is mutual grooming, but mutual grooming does not equal sex. Rhalhea and I groom each other, and by grooming I mean everything, but it does not lead to sex, unless, of course, it is mutually agreed upon. Kykherhenha and I groom each other, and like I have just stated, the grooming procedure involves everything, including the genitals, which, after all, are a part of us, and not some separate entity. It is easy to be confused by the appearance of a whistling dragon licking the penis of her Tereskàdian. You think, Oh, look at that, it is a prelude to sexual intercourse, and you watch and wait, and when nothing happens, you are so disappointed. Well, serves you right, I say. You be disappointed, and we just watch you leave, because you have such a wrong impression about Tereskàdians, and the relationship they have with their whistling dragons.

Then you get the other question, Do you masturbate? Yes, I masturbate, and I can safely say that all Tereskàdians masturbate. When I groom myself, occasionally I will take my penis into my mouth, and one thing leads to another... Of course there is that question of Tereskàdian-Whistling Dragon empathy. When I engage in solitary sex, does Kykherhenha feel what I do? Yes, she does. Just as I feel it when she engages in solitary sex. Unless you are a Tereskàdian it is rather hard to describe the feeling, the sensuality that flows through your body when your whistling dragon licks her genitalia, and reaches orgasm.

So what is it like when Tereskàdians and their whistling dragons mate at the same time? Like nothing else. That is perhaps not a very scientific way of describing it, but I remember using that term during a series of Mharen’s classes about Tereskàdian sexuality. The students wanted to know if I could feel Keridhar’s penis inside Kykherhenha, and I told them the word should be ‘sense.’ I sense her genitalia and she senses mine, so in a way, even though we are not engaged in sexual intercourse, in a certain way we are, by being sexually locked to our mates. And you would never directly have sexual intercourse with your whistling dragon? I could never do that, I tell them.

Does all this make sense? If you are a solitary being, like the Alharhanians, it may not. You have to be living with another being that is part of you, a part of your consious and subconscious before you can even know the meaning of my words.

Right now, as I close this entry, Jhalhemha is sucking vigorously on my chamber teat. My sheath has made an appearance, and moments later, my penis emerges. Kykherhenha comes over, and looks at it. I know what she wants to do and I tell her to go ahead.

The Dhoren family is sitting on the living room couch, watching the wallscreen. They glance over at me just as Kykherhenha’s tongue is gliding up my shaft, and I can see Lheana’s disapproving looks. Even after all this time she still does not realize it is something that Kykherhenha was meant to do. This procedure is universal among all male Tereskàdians and female whistling dragons.

Lheana asks me if I would like to make another trip to the Shopping Center, and I tell her I would love to go. Via our whistling dragons Rhalhea says she is rather surprised that I would agree so readily. There is so much more to see, I tell her.

This entry has taken me all evening to write, so I will stop now. There will always be more to write, because each day brings something new. If I write in my journal after T’heril’s court date I will report on that. If it is before I will bring other news.

T’hor. 20.98/Day 274
Never mind a signature.

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Thekherham
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Thekherham's Worlds - TWENTY-ONE

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thekherham on Mon Mar 15, 2010 7:55 am

Today is the 24th of T’horhachyzh, the second last day of the month. There are five more days to go before school starts again, but my cubs and the Dhoren children do not want to be reminded of that.

We are well past the halfway mark of fall, and yet the last few days have seemed more like summer. We Tereskàdians were hoping it would turn colder, or at least remain cold, but the weather has suddenly decided to take a turn for the warmer, and it looks like it will remain like this well into Benrhachyzh.

Rhalhea has taken over care of Jhalhemha for the next five days. My mate is looking forward to the start of school; she hopes she will be called in often as a part-time teacher’s helper. I told her I would help her get familiar with the school’s surroundings, because the University of Treskebhar is such a huge place, even a seasoned veteran can get lost there.

Khe’ăr has had a long talk with T’heril, and the teenager is behaving himself a little better now. He still spends quite a bit of time in his room, and I suspect he is practicing his telekinesis, something he is not supposed to do in front of his sister. There is so much jealousy in Nykha that I’m afraid if T’heril were to show off his gift in front of her, a major fight would erupt.

I have edited my column three times already, and it still doesn’t feel right. I don’t know what it is, maybe it’s the fact that I am a Tereskàdian, and Tereskàdians are not meant to be writers. But I have been trying to be. I have, after all, written my autobiography which, if you really want my opinion, is not going to win any literary awards, but which tells my story in a straightforward manner. I have also written short articles for popular magazines devoted to Tereskàdians, and the study of Tereskàdians.

I do have until the 3rd of Benrhachyzh to finalize my essay, and get it into the newspaper. The editor Fefrha dhar Thumher, was very understanding when I told her I was having trouble focusing. Once you get going, she said, it will come easily. ‘Life through my Eyes’ is just what we’re looking for. The eyes of a Tereskàdian.

The eyes of a Tereskàdian. My eyes, watching, recording,, learning, writing. In order to do that Kykherhenha and I have to be able to travel to different parts of the city, even different parts of the country. We have to be able to talk to Alharhanians and Tereskàdians, get their opinions on different subjects. We have to talk to those who like us, those who hate us, and those who don’t care.

I am sitting in the sand on the shores of Te’hănys Bay, my tail curled around me. Kykherhenha is sitting beside me, and she is thinking of fish. To my left is the penis-like peninsula, jutting out into the bay, to my right the shore sweeps gradually to the left, and then disappears to the right. Despite the warm weather, and almost no wind, the water is dark and choppy. I am vaguely thinking of swimming, and Kykherhenha wants to do why I would want to do that. And then I start to think of the time when I was twelve years old, and I was in the ocean on Tereskàdhar, having been forced in the water from a jetliner... There was this cheperhaun, a fearsome predator of the deep, and the kilirid, with its jelly-like body, and its myriad of tentacles ready to suck the blood of any victim that came to close... And there I was, without the poison in my claws, not ready to die, because there were so many years ahead of me. And I learned that even though you are still a cub, you must seize the opportunities, and you must do what you have to do in order to survive.

Ah, but I ramble, and I think I am because I miss Tereskàdhar, I miss ‘Hănharys, and the village. Or do I really miss the village? I remember the dead bodies, and I still have nightmares about Mama’s rape. Those nightmares will haunt me for the rest of my life.

As I drink from Kykherhenha I begin to cry, and my whistling dragon knows it, because there are no secrets between a Tereskàdian and a whistling dragon. She doesn’t have to ask me why I am crying, because she has seen deep into my subconscious, and she has seen the answers.

One more thing before I sign off for today: the Thalen family will be coming over on the 1st which means another evening of pent’hăr. I am going to see if Rhalhea and I can join in the game... if the Dhorens and the Thalens agree.

T’hor. 24.98/Day 278

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Thekherham
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Re: Thekherham's Worlds - TWENTY-TWO

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thekherham on Mon Mar 22, 2010 11:24 am

Where do I begin? So much has happened in the last week it is hard to decide. Let’s begin with the weather. Benrhachyzh is the last full month of autumn before winter enters on the 7th of Jhelhachyzh. On the 25th of T’horhachyzh it rained... and rained, and rained. It finally stopped on the 2nd of the month, and for the last couple of days Orovha has ventured from its hiding place somewhere in the sky, and the temperature has risen again. But as I write this journal entry on the afternoon of the 5th, clouds are once again threatening to bring rain. Of course, being a Tereskàdian, I would appreciate it if the weather would turn colder, and we would be blessed with snow and cold for the next five or six months.

The Thalen family visited us on the 1st, and after the usual chit-chat, we settled down to a game of pent’hăr. I asked if Rhalhea and I could watch so we could learn how to play the game, and Khe’ăr and Lheana said they didn’t mind, but S’horel had his doubts, saying that Kykherhenha and Keridhar might look at the opponent’s cards, and give the information to their Tereskàdians. I almost got into an argument with S’horel, telling him that was ridiculous, Tereskàdians would never do that. So after much discussion of Tereskàdian honesty, it was decided that yes, we could watch the Dhorens and the Thalens play pent’hăr.

We didn’t watch too long because Oren felt a bit left out. He just sat in his wheelchair and watched from a distance, his hands folded in his lap. A little later, S’hril, the s’hărkha, showed up, making one of his rare appearances, and jumped up into Oren’s lap, and fell asleep there. I haven’t mentioned S’hril because he spends most of his time outside, roaming around the peninsula, looking for small animals. He is basically a wild animal, but the Dhorens adopted him when Khe’ăr found him, wounded and half-dead, just outside the back door. Now it is a question of who adopted whom.

Rheža showed Oren how well S’horžăm can fly now, but the young Alharhanian didn’t seem to be interested. He used his voice to command his chair to leave via the back door. We followed him down to the beach where he looked out across the water. Rheža was standing beside me, holding my paw. Both Kykherhenha and S’horžăm had taken to the air, and were now doing lazy spirals above the bay. A rather generous wind ruffled our fur.

Do you have Jhalhemha? Oren suddenly asked, and I told him no, I did not, but I would get her back on the 4th. So his next question was one that I should have anticipated, because it is a common question to ask of a Tereskàdian, especially a male. What does it feel like to have this tiny being in your chamber, sucking on a teat? I don’t know how many Alharhanians have asked that question, and I still don’t really know how to answer that. I don’t think about it; I am a Tereskàdian, I am a father, I have a daughter who is less than one year old, and she occupies an empty space in my abdominal region called a chamber, and she drinks milk from the single teat. It doesn’t feel like anything, it just... is, a part of our existence, a part of our being. That is the way the Creator made us, and it is something that we cannot change.

On the 2nd my contribution appeared in the Treskebhar Daily News. I am hopeful that my column, ‘Life through my Eyes,’ will be read by Alharhanians and Tereskàdians. The first column wasn’t much really, just 750 words. I told the editor it was an introductory column, and I would write closer to the 2,000 words she wanted next time. Next day there were letters from both pro- and anti-Tereskàdian Alharhanians, some stating that it was about time a Tereskàdian contributed something to literature, that non- Tereskàdians had no business writing about something that only Tereskàdians knew intimately. And those that still hold a deep hatred toward us? Let’s just say that their language was as strong as a blizzard on Tereskàdhar. Who in the dark regions of nightmare did I think I was, writing for the biggest newspaper on Alharhan? And of course the ever-popular ‘Go back where you came from.’ One Alharhanian went so far as to say he would take a trip up to Brežendra Road and kill every Tereskàdian and every whistling dragon in Khe’ăr’s home. That one frightened me, and I showed Khe’ăr the letter. He told me that no letter is published unless the writer’s name, address, and videophone number is known. This is pure arrogance, he said. This writer knows the law, he knows that you are a universally protected species, and yet he thinks he can accomplish something that is utterly impossible. How is it impossible, I wanted to know. He could still come here and kill me, and Rhalhea, and the cubs.

Kykherhenha said she would keep her eyes and ears open. I wasn’t so sure that would help, but if she was willing... I began to fearshiver, and I tried my best not to, but there was no way to hide my emotion. I knew sometime, somewhere I would have to face this Alharhanian, and ask him why he harbors this hatred toward us. If he was willing to kill us, he was also willing to spend the rest of his life on Jhanhekhar, with no hope of ever leaving that planet.

When I showed Rhalhea the letter, she wanted to know why it was published in the first place. The editor should have contacted the authorities the minute it came into her hands, she said. Her ears were laid back, and the tip of her tail flicked back and forth as she read the words of hatred and loathing and malevolence directed at the Tereskàdians, especially me.

Who hates me? There are many I have killed, both on Alharhan and Tereskàdhar, but they died because they were stupid enough to attack me. Friends and relatives of the victims acknowledged the fact that Tereskàdians only defend themselves, and the only way we do that is by using our claws.

But they never learn, do they? You tell them and you keep telling them, and they think that because they are more intelligent, given the fact they received an education, it gives them the right to try their luck by attacking adult Tereskàdians, when they know all about the light-red substance in our claws.

On the 4th the doors to all the educational institutions opened again, and thousands of Alharhanian children and Tereskàdian cubs went back to school. I reported to Sen Mharen’s office at the university, and asked him to explain what my duties were as Assistant Tereskàdianology Instructor, and he told me I could go home, and I would be called if one of the professors of Tereskàdianology could not make it to his class. Since I was a Tereskàdian it would be easy for me to come in cold and teach whatever the students were learning at the moment.

I told Sen Mharen I didn’t know if I could do that because I didn’t fee; comfortable in front of a crowd. If I showed fear, they would know it, because I could not hide it. He assured me that these were older students, in their late teens and early twenties, whose behavior was professional, and they would understand. I said I would try my best.

On the afternoon of the 4th T’heril made an appearance at the North Treskebhar Court House to defend himself against the charge of willfully aiding in the assault against a Tereskàdian family. He would speak in front of three judges who would each draw up a proposal that could range from a complete discharge to exile on Jhanhekhar for up to ten years. The exile on Jhanhekhar seemed to me a little too harsh; I didn’t think he warranted that penalty, but, considering that it involved Tereskàdians, you never knew what went through a judge’s mind.

Khe’ăr had T’heril take a bath, and told him to dress himself in the best clothes he could find. It was obvious that Khe’ăr wanted T’heril to make a good impression in front of the judges, who had a tendency to judge an Alharhanian’s character by his appearance. That was something I could not understand. If a person was sloppily dressed, did that automatically mean he was guilty?

The Tereskàdian family that was attacked was in attendance, as were Khe’ăr, Lheana, Nykha, (the younger twins, and Jhorhea and Rheža, were staying with Lheana’s parents), Rhalhea, myself, and Jhalhemha, who was in my chamber. Our whistling dragons were sitting on their haunches; Beshalhen was in Kykherhenha's chamber.

When T’heril presented his case before the judges he spoke in a clear, precise voice that carried through the courtroom. He stated truthfully that he was with friends on that fateful day, and he had no idea what they were planning. He said when they began to throw rocks at the Tereskàdian family he did not participate, and he was disgusted by what was happening.

The three judges then began to question him, and the first fusion was, Why didn’t you help the Tereskàdians? T’heril couldn’t really answer that, other than to say that he didn’t want to lose his friends.

Would you really want friends like that? the judge in the middle asked.

They’ve been my friends for almost ten years, he said.

Do you know the law regarding the Tereskàdians? the judge on the right asked, but before T’heril could reply he added, We are guilty of the atrocities against the Tereskàdians, and five years ago it was decided to pass a law protecting all Tereskàdians, both on this planet, and Tereskàdhar. If you cannot obey the law, then you must suffer the consequences.

Of course T’heril knew the law. The Tereskàdian Act was a subject studied at the University of Treskebhar, and other educational institutions in the fifty-five countries of Alharhan. Every student was expected to know what the rights and privileges of every Tereskàdian on both planets was. Ignorance of this document would never be tolerated.

The judge in the middle announced that they would draw up three proposals which would be set before the citizens of Alharhan. Why Alharhan? Because the entire planet – fifty-five countries – had agreed to the Tereskàdian Act. When the Tereskàdians were attacked, the entire planet was a witness. The judges ended the procedure by stating that the three proposals would be ready by the 12th of the month.

I have a feeling that Sherill's punishment will not be too harsh. Although he was with the Alharhanian youths when the Tereskàdian family was attacked he did not participate. He will be sentenced, of that I am sure, but I would not even want to guess what his punishment will be.

As we leave the courtroom, I can feel Jhalhemha pulling on my chamber teat. She is pulling rather hard, but right now I don’t mind. My mind is on other things, especially one question: Why would T’heril even associate with “friends” like that?

Benrhachyzh 6.98/Day 285

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Thekherham
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Re: Thekherham's Worlds - TWENTY-THREE

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thekherham on Wed Mar 31, 2010 8:26 am

Even though winter is still twenty-two days away, it keeps trying to make an early appearance. On the eleventh, snow flurries fluttered around all day, and a thin coating of snow covered the ground. Khe’ăr said the snow would disappear soon, and it did. The following day it was gone, and everything looked green again. Well, not green, like in spring and summer, but the absence of white gave the landscape at least some color.

Let me get to the main point of this entry: T’heril Dhoren. On the 12th the three judges set forth three proposals regarding the charge against the teenager.

Proposal 1: T’heril Dhoren is to spend five years on the planet Jhanhekhar. The travel time to that planet does not count toward the length of the sentence.

Proposal 2: T’heril Dhoren will personally apologize to the Tereskàdian family. He will pay a fine of 5,000 L’hŏr, and perform seventy-five hours of community service; forty of these hours must be spent with Tereskàdians.

Proposal 3: T’heril Dhoren is to be cleared of all charges against him, and any record of his arrest and court appearance will be filed in the archives at the North Treskebhar Court House.

Since the fifty-five countries on Alharhan will be participating in the voting, the judges have given the citizens of this planet thirty days to decide.

So far I have written three columns for the Treskebhar Daily News. “Life through my Eyes’ has, according to a recent survey, a minimal readership, but the editor told me that was to be expected for a new column. Just keep writing like you have been, she told me, and your readership will grow. I asked her why that anti-Tereskàdian letter was published, and she told me it must have slipped through. She was lying, but I didn’t pursue the subject further.

The University of Treskebhar has not called me yet, but a received a call from Sen Mharen saying that one of the teachers would be retiring at the end of the month, and there was a good chance that I would be called to come in on an interim basis. He wouldn’t say how long this ‘interim basis’ was, but I presume it will last until a new teacher is hired. Now that I think about it, I don’t know if I want to face twenty-five or thirty students, all staring at me, staring at Kykherhenha. But I will travel that path later.

Khe’ăr is bringing home a lot more money since he was promoted to an administrative position in the Department of Immigration. Since the Dhoren family has four children, and they have to pay a yearly penalty, the extra money he has been making will come in handy.

On the one paw, I have to agree with the governments of this planet that in order to prevent overpopulation, the number of children born to one couple must be controlled, but on the other paw, I find such a restriction could have adverse effects. Unlike Tereskàdians who can have only three cubs, Alharhanian females can bear children from the time they are fourteen or fifteen until they are in their late thirties or early forties. Since the gestation period for an Alharhanian is about ten months it isn’t hard to figure out the number of children a female could bear.

Lheana’s business has been growing so much that Alharhanians have literally been knocking on the front door, asking about the sweaters. When they see me, or Rhalhea, or the cubs, they ask us it it hurts to have our fur taken from us. I just have to shake my head when somebody asks questions like that. No, I tell them, it doesn’t hurt at all. When Lheana shows them the sweaters they gush over them like a mother admiring her newborn baby. I remember one Alharhanian female who bought six of them. She asked about different colors, but Lheana told her that right now, auburn was the only color available.

T’heril is worried that the citizens of Alharhan will choose the first option of the proposal, and he will have to spend five years on Jhanhekhar. Ever since the proposals were broadcast on the wallscreen he has been spending a lot of time researching Jhanhekhar. A couple of days ago I knocked on his door, and when he invited me in I saw him lying on his bed, looking at a book. My sharp vision noticed immediately that he was looking at an article in The Encyclopedia Orovha about Jhanhekhar. Are your worried? I asked. Of course, he said. Wouldn’t you be? When I didn’t answer, he said, Did you know that Jhanhekhar takes 965 days to orbit Orovha? I’ll be an old man before I get back. He was exaggerating but I didn’t tell him that.

Nykha is on speaking terms again with her brother. Well, considering they are twins, I knew it would not be long before they spoke again. Nykha has said she will stand by her brother no matter what happens. I was standing not far away when she said that to her parents, and I knew she was telling the truth.

Arhen and Fhenha have settled back in the school routine, although for the first few days they complained that they didn’t like school. They have made a number of new friends, both Alharhanian and Tereskàdian, and a day doesn’t go by when they don’t bring somebody, ‘just to play till supper.’ But invariably the visitors stay, and then the parents come, wondering where they are, because the youngsters do not inform them where they are going after school. So Lheana made a rule that whenever Arhen and Fhenha bring friends home, the friends must call their parents, telling them where they are. As I write this journal entry the young twins have brought home three friends, a girl and two boys. They are in the twins’ room, and I can hear them talking and laughing.

Rhalhea and Keridhar are working at the university. She tells that she is enjoying her position as teacher’s helper. The teacher’s name is Senha Chombhal, and she has twenty-seven ten-year-olds to contend with, including Jhorhea. Rhalhea told me there are five other Tereskàdian cubs, in addition to Jhorhea, which means that there are six whistling dragons. The twenty-one Alharhanians have accepted the Tereskàdians and whistling dragons, and it is nice to know that Alharhanian children have no problems with Tereskàdians. I would like to see the adults accept us as readily, but old habits are hard to break.

Even though Jhorhea has returned to school, she is still reading a lot. She also has a lot of homework, and sometimes it seems that she has more than other members of the family. When I asked her why she has so much homework she told me that she wants to do it because she wants to be somebody important someday. For a ten-year-old, she has ambitious dreams, and ambition is what keeps you going, what keeps you heading toward the goal you have set for yourself.

Rheža is a little disappointed that school has started again, and for the last ten days she has been complaining to me and Rhalhea that she and S’horžăm have to stay in the classroom, and it’s so boring because her whistling dragon can’t fly, and show her what things look like from ‘way up there.’ She wants to know why she has to go to school, and I tell her I have already told her the reason, and if she can’t remember she should think ten, fifteen, twenty years ahead. Today, however, school is forgotten because this is the second day of the weekend, and she and S’horžăm are outside, at the edge of the bay, watching the birds. He is a mere speck in the sky, and I have no doubt that she is seeing what he is showing her. The panoramic view he is presenting to her is breathtaking, something I can attest to because Kykherhenha has flown that high, and she has shown me.

Jhalhemha is in my chamber again, and will be for three more days. The other day an Alharhanian asked me if I wasn’t getting bored with a cub in my chamber. You’re not a Tereskàdian, I said. He told me I had a point there, that he wouldn’t want to be a Tereskàdian, because he could not see himself nursing a cub. I told him he was an Alharhanian, therefore he thought like an Alharhanian. If you were a Tereskàdian, I said, you would accept all things Tereskàdian. He wanted to know what Jhalhemha was doing now, and I told him she was sleeping. He looked at my chest teats, advertising that I had a cub, and asked me when Jhalhemha would be coming out of the chamber. A little less than ten months, I said. It would drive me crazy, he said, and left. Of course it would, Kykherhenha sent. Sometimes I think that Alharhanians, if they had to care for children in the same manner that a Tereskàdian cares for his cubs, would have absolutely no patience at all.

I have noticed that there will be another echosing concert at the beginning of next month. There have been a few since the last concert, but they have not really interested me because they have been staged at smaller venues, stadiums holding ten thousand, fifteen thousand citizens. The concert next month will be at the Treskebhar Stadium, but as of now, no details have been released.’

I am sitting in my room, writing this journal entry. I am taking an awful long time, because I am looking out the window at the bay. There is only me and Kykherhenha here, and my whistling dragon is paying special attention to my organ which is out and very erect. She wants to know what I’m looking at, and I tell her I’m just daydreaming. She wants to know why, and I don’t have an answer.

When she is done, she walks to the middle of the room and lies on the floor, on her back, tail swishing lazily. Her teats are very prominent, so I know she wants me to drink. I tell her I will be over there shortly, if she doesn’t mind waiting. Of course she doesn’t mind waiting because she knows her Tereskàdian is busy with his journal. After all, the milk will always be there.

Alharhanians have asked me if I’m not bored just being able to drink whistling dragon milk. It is so restrictive, they tell me. We can drink water and tezuelhan milk, and wine, and juices... So what? Why tell me? Does the fact that I can eat only meat, and drink only the milk of my whistling dragon have to equal boredom? What a stupid question. Hello, Alharhanians, I am not you. When are you going to realize that I am a completely different species, with different thought processes, and different metabolism? Maybe I should ask you why you don’t have fur, or why you don’t have claws, or a tail, or why your senses are so much weaker than a Tereskàdian’s, or why you don’t have a chamber in your abdominal region, or why males don’t nurse their young. But I don’t because I know you are different.

Maybe one day I will write a book, and I’ll call it The Differences between Alharhanians and Tereskàdians and How to Recognize them, and maybe I’ll subtitle it Please don’t ask a Tereskàdian any more Stupid Questions.

But don’t hold your breath waiting for it.

Ben. 15.98/Day 294

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Re: Thekherham's Worlds - TWENTY-FOUR

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thekherham on Tue Apr 06, 2010 10:23 pm

Yesterday I looked at my notes to the sequel to my autobiography, even though I have stated I would not do anything until this journal is complete. Sometimes, though, something comes over me, and I have to look at what I have written so far, and make a few more notes. Then I put it aside again, and tell myself I will not touch it – no, not one digit of my paw will handle it, but I know I will change my mind.

Later today, I will be continuing my column. It seems that whenever I look at the paper I don't know what I should write, but the words are either inspired by something I see on the wallscreen or an item I read in the Treskebhar Daily News. It doesn’t necessarily have to be something on the front page; it could be some obscure little item near the back, something that interests me, and that might also interest the readers.

For example, here is one about an Alharhanian who claims to be a direct descendant of Krysa Rhona. In a short article at the back of the paper he states that he has the ability to foretell the future, but that he will do it for a price. Hmmm. Even though I have not met this individual my sharp senses tell me there is something putrid in paradise. Reading the article I can tell that even the interviewer seems to have second thoughts about this Alharhanians because he wrote the article with tongue firmly glued to his cheek.

Well, let’s see what I can do about that article.

It is early morning, and everybody is still asleep. They won’t be for long, though, because today is a school day. Everybody will be galloping into the kitchen, demanding breakfast, getting their school books and homework, and lunches together... So I think I better type a bit more before the parade starts.

Jhalhemha has been in Rhalhea’s chamber for the last three days, and my chamber teat thanks me. She has been pulling really hard while she was in my chamber, and the five days she will be in Rhalhea’s chamber will give my teat a well-deserved rest.

I had a call from Rheža teacher a couple of days ago, and she told me that my daughter is staying out longer than she is supposed to at recess, just so she can see through S’horžăm’s eyes when he is flying. Other children crowd around her while she reports on what her whistling dragon is seeing. When my daughter came home I had a long talk with her, telling her that school comes first, and she has to be back in her classroom when the bell rings.

I was just looking back at previous chapters and I noticed that about three months ago I wrote about a proposal to build a new bridge across the Treskebhar River. Here is a quote from that chapter:

When the final votes were tallied, 68% of the voting population of Te’hănys voted for Proposal 3 – to leave the present bridge as a pedestrian only bridge, and to build a new bridge somewhere in the vicinity. Proposal 1 received 28% of the vote, and Proposal 2 – the one I picked – received a mere 4%. It looks like the country of Te’hănys will spend about 4¾ million L’hŏr to implement the third proposal.

So far the city has not implemented that proposal, and the bridge is still standing. Now that it is late fall, and winter is only a couple of weeks away, it looks like it will be spring before they get started on the bridge.

Kykherhenha is sitting on her haunches, looking out the living room window at Brežendra Road. She is thinking about ‘Hănharys, and jrhameldhan, and I know she would rather be there, hunting. Sometimes I have those thoughts, too, but there is nothing we can do about it. We live on Alharhan now, in a huge city that seems to have absorbed us until we are now like the citizens that live here, just like one of the masses. Every so often I look in the mirror, touch my fur, my tail, open my snout to look at my sharp, white teeth, run a digit along my chest teats, bring out my genitals, just to make sure that somehow, magically, I have not changed and become... one of them. But I know that is impossible.

I tell my whistling dragon that next summer my family and I will go to Tereskàdhar. I know it is about eight months away, but right now I wish we could go tomorrow.

The trouble is, I haven’t even told Rhalhea about this. I wonder what she and the cubs think about this. I hope my mate has not become too deeply ingrained in this world and its culture, because maybe someday I hope to return to Tereskàdhar permanently.

If I do that, Rhalhea and the cubs will have to stay as well. Jhalhemha needs my milk as well as Rhalhea’s.

Ben. 21.98/Day 300

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Re: Thekherham's Worlds

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Comrade Vacilli on Tue Apr 06, 2010 10:28 pm

You right very long chapters I must note.... sorry I had nothing better to do then right an essay for school, so I looked at this.
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There should be two, no more, no less. One to embody power, one to crave it. "
- Darth Bane
" I? I am peace, I am salvation."
- Grave mind

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Re: Thekherham's Worlds

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thekherham on Wed Apr 07, 2010 11:02 am

I also tend to write long books, Comrade Vacilli. One book I wrote was about 1,200 and another one about 760+ pages. And I'm thinking of expanding that second book!

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Re: Thekherham's Worlds - TWENTY-FIVE

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thekherham on Thu Apr 08, 2010 3:50 am

Early this morning Fhenha woke up with a terrible cold so Lheana called the school to tell them that Fhenha won’t be there today. I have noticed that the Dhoren family is generally pretty healthy, but every once in a while one of them will catch a cold, and that cold will usually last two or three days.

At least we Tereskàdians don’t have to worry about that because we don’t get sick. Sometimes I wish my parents and all the other Tereskàdians who were killed had been immune to the weapons of Alharhanians, but wishing for something after the fact doesn’t make much sense. Wishing for anything doesn’t make sense.

Lheana has gone to the pharmacy to get Fhenha some medicine. I asked her if it will do any good, and she said that scientists are working on a cure for the cure that will probably come into affect in a year or two. In the meantime, the medicine that is now available, will have to do.

Arhen is, of course, concerned about his sister, but he can’t get close to her because she could ‘send her cold.’ ‘Send [the] cold’ is the expression Alharhanians use to convey the fact that somebody with a cold may infect another Alharhanian. Lheana told me that hundreds of years ago, before the age of modern medicine, one or two Alharhanians could infect an entire village, and from there it could spread to other villages.

Six more days until winter arrives officially, but the snow fell again overnight. It was a heavy, fluffy sort of snow that you know was going to stick around for a while. The first thing Kykherhenha and I did this morning was to go outside and romp in the snow. My whistling dragon told me it wasn’t anything like ‘Hănharys, but it would have to do. We were joined a short time later by Rhalhea, Rheža, and their whistling dragons. I am glad we were at the back of the house because if anyone had seen us they would have assumed that a family of Tereskàdians had been infected with some new kind of drug that made them do crazy things like dancing in the snow, and singing at the top of their lungs. Even Khe’ăr came out to see what the matter was, and we told him that this snow would stay until the spring. Of course you’d be happy, he muttered, and went back into the house.

You would think that living in the northern part of the country would give these Alharhanians some appreciation of the different seasons, but they only seem to like hot weather. I don’t see how they can stand it, sweating like a tezuelhan that had been ridden hard through the city, but that is what they prefer. As for us Tereskàdians we tend to take each season as it comes. Of course we prefer winter, the colder the better, but we will not complain much about the not weather because we know there is nothing we can do about it.
Many, many years ago, when Alharhanians first transported Tereskàdians back to Alharhan, they found that many of the Tereskàdians could not cope with the extreme change in temperature so they died. When I checked the history books of that event I found that the weather on Tereskàdhar was extremely cold, and the season in the country of Te’hănys was the middle of summer. I realized that all this happened way back in the first days of space exploration and planetary discoveries, but were the Alharhanians of that era really that stupid?

Before I close the journal for today I am going to write down Alharhan’s Universal Calendar; that is, the name of the months, and the number of the days in each month.

Alharhan’s orbit around Orovha is 420 days, and the Alharhanian who designed the present-day calendar many years ago divided the year into fifteen months. These months are as follows (with the number of days in parenthesis): T’hălhachyzh (28), Adzărhachyzh (25), Alharhachyzh (30), K’hărhachyzh (28), F’hărnhachyzh (30), Bhe’ăchyzh (25), Mharhachyzh (30), N’hŏŵrhachyzh (28), Trelhachyzh (30), T’horhachyzh (25), Benrhachyzh (30), Jhelhachyzh (28), Brhe’ălhachyzh (30), Armhachyzh (25), and N’herhachyzh (28).

Rheža says she wants to watch a program on the wallscreen, and it is going to begin shortly. Right now she is taking nourishment from S’horžăm while I finish this chapter. Next time I will continue with the names of the six days of the week, and other pertinent information.

Ben. 22.98/Day 301

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Re: Thekherham's Worlds - TWENTY-SIX

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thekherham on Wed May 05, 2010 8:58 am

I realize it has been twenty-six days since I last wrote something in this journal. I have no excuse, really, other than the fact that I was editing the previous twenty-six entries (a pronunciation guide plus twenty-five entries), and I realized there were a lot of mistakes and silly grammatical errors which I found when reading aloud.

Where do I begin? It is obvious that when we are talking about such a great time span, a lot of things happened during that time. We are past the half-way mark in the month of Jhelhachyzh, and the one significant event so far this month was the arrival of winter. And wrap your furry tails about you, folks (if you have a tail, that is) because there was no doubt that winter had arrived. It had started to snow the afternoon before, and it didn’t let up until late night on the seventh, the first day of winter. When it was all over, there was whiteness everywhere. Lheana remarked that there was a great chance the snow would stay until T’hălhachyzh, which is the first month of the new year, and the first day of that month is also the first day of spring.

All this snow makes Rhalhea and the cubs and me very happy. It is extremely cold, which we do not mind in the least. Unlike Tereskàdhar, the winter season here is only a hundred and five days, but right now I don’t care how long it lasts. It’s winter! Snow... cold... lots of days to spend outside.

Let’s begin with T’heril. If you remember, he got into a lot of troubles simply by associating with a group of teenagers who harassed a family of Tereskàdians. As everyone knows, that is against the law, and the penalties are extremely severe. Last month the three judges that heard T’heril’s case drew up three proposals, and gave the citizens of Alharhan thirty days to vote. That vote was tallied on the twelfth of this month.

Before I give you the results of that vote, here again are the three proposals:

Proposal 1: T’heril Dhoren is to spend five years on the planet Jhanhekhar. The travel time to that planet does not count toward the length of the sentence.

Proposal 2: T’heril Dhoren will personally apologize to the Tereskàdian family. He will pay a fine of 5,000 L’hŏr, and perform seventy-five hours of community service; forty of these hours must be spent with Tereskàdians.

Proposal 3: T’heril Dhoren is to be cleared of all charges against him, and any record of his arrest and court appearance will be filed in the archives at the North Treskebhar Court House.

Of course I don’t have to mention that Khe’ăr and Lheana hoped their son would not be sent to Jhanhekhar. I could hear them discussing the options, and Lheana kept convincing herself that the third proposal would the one the citizens of Alharhan would vote for. He’s really a good boy, she told Khe’ăr. He hasn’t been in trouble before. It was just a prank. Just a prank? I questioned her reasoning. Even if he didn’t throw those rocks himself, he was there, and that made him an accessory, and he was as guilty as if he had picked up a rock himself and thrown it.

The family sat in the living room, watching the wallscreen. The announcer gave a background story regarding T’heril’s charges, and stated that the results of the vote had been cast, and were now final. Seventeen percent of the population had voted for the third proposal. When I heard that, I was little worried; it meant that eighty-three percent of the people voted for the first two proposals, and one of those proposals involved an unplanned trip to Jhanhekhar.

The announcer read the first proposal, and stated that thirty-two percent of the citizens of Alharhan had voted for this proposal. I realized immediately, and I’m sure Khe’ăr and Lheana did as well, that the total of those two votes totaled forty-nine percent. That meant Proposal #2 was the one that affected T’heril, and it also meant that Jhanhekhar was out of the picture.

T’heril said he would personally visit the Tereskàdian family and offer a formal apology. I should mention here that he did give an apology soon after the incident, but it was of a rather cursory nature. He would also do the seventy-five hours of community service, although he wasn’t sure what that would involve. As for the fine, well, that was another story. Khe’ăr said he wasn’t going to pay it because, as he put it, money isn’t found behind every bush. Lheana didn’t like that too much, and they spent most of the evening of the twelfth arguing about it.

When I mentioned the predicament T’heril was in to Jackson Markham Tyler, he said he would give T’heril the money to pay the fine. He is a good student, he said, even though homework doesn’t appeal to him. It would be a shame to see him sent off to Jhanhekhar because of his inability to pay the fine. I asked him if T’heril would be sent to Jhanhekhar if he couldn’t pay the fine, and he replied that would, in all likelihood, happen.

T’heril had ten days to pay the fine, and he paid it two days after the votes were counted. That was yesterday. He told us he would visit with the Tereskàdian family this coming weekend, and he wanted to do the apology in private. Khe’ăr wouldn’t agree to that, and the two argued about it. T’heril finally relented, saying he would make the apology private. Of course you will, Khe’ăr said. That way, if anybody else has any ideas about harassing and hurting Tereskàdians, they will know what to expect.

I am sitting on the floor of my room, my back against the wall, trying to remember what has happened these last four weeks. Kykherhenha is sitting on her haunches beside me, watching me. She had given me milk before I started this journal entry, but it seemed as if she was ready to give me more. I noticed her teats were rather prominent. I won’t be able to put all the events down in this one entry, I told her, and she was glad to hear me say that.

Now that I have related T’heril’s story, I should mention the other members of the both families, but I will do that another day. (No, I will not wait four weeks to do.) Before I conclude today’s journal entry I will take center stage, and tell a bit about what’s been happening to me. I spent seven straight days at the University of Treskebhar,from the 29th of Benrhachyzh to the 5th of Jhelhachyzh, teaching older students Tereskàdianology. Some of these students were only a few years younger than me, and most of them were very well-behaved. It was only a few that made fools of themselves, uttering crude remarks about Tereskàdian sexuality, and the fact that we take milk from the teats of our whistling dragons. I found all this rather disconcerting, because the subject we were studying was the discovery and early history of the Tereskàdians.

My newspaper column has garnered a remarkable amount of feedback. The one I wrote for the last weekend of the previous month tore into the stupidity of those Alharhanians who still believe they can defeat a Tereskàdian by attacking him,or who thin that just because a whistling dragon’s milk is good for her Tereskàdian, it must be good for an Alharhanian. You tell these Alharhanians the rules, and they think that somehow they are immune to them.

Let me give you just one incident: This happened on the last day on Benrhachyzh, when I was leaving the university. One of the students (he wasn’t in my class) made his way toward me and Kykherhenha. I thought his approach was rather deliberate because he seemed to be on his way to the parking lot when he saw me.

He wanted to know why Tereskàdians suck on the teats of their whistling dragons, and I asked him what he had learned in Tereskàdianology class. He said he wanted to hear the answer from me, so I told him that was the only liquid we can drink. Somehow the conversation veered into the subject of taste, and he asked me if he could have a little bit of Kykherhenha's milk. Is it as good as tezuelhan milk? Of course I couldn’t answer that since I had never tasted tezuelhan milk. He pulled this small bottle out of his pocket, and said he would like me to milk Kykherhenha. I told him he was crazy, that I would never do such a thing, because a Tereskàdian does not milk his whistling dragon.

Well, one thing led to another, and before you could wag your tail, he was shouting at me, calling me animal, and threatening me with bodily harm. Yeah, yeah, sure, I thought. As long as he shouted, and did not actually attack me, he was quite safe from my deadly claws. We were nose to snout, and he kept staring at me, which I did not like at all, so I looked past him at a distant throng of students who were looking in our direction.

Suddenly, he stopped talking, and walked away, and I thought he had given up and was going to go to the parking lot. Instead he walked over to Kykherhenha who was standing not far away from me. You better watch yourself, I told my whistling dragon. She told me she had her eyes on him. Why don’t you let him suck? she asked. I can’t shut off my sense of smell, I said.

He ran up to Kykherhenha and hit her as hard as he could with his fist, ramming it into her side. She let out a breathy ‘Oof’, and at the same time I felt the pain which she felt. How do you like that? the students asked as he danced around my whistling dragon. I know all about you. I didn’t know if he was speaking to me or Kykherhenha, and I didn’t really care. If he thought that by attacking her he was immune to our claws he was sadly mistaken. I wasn’t going to handle the problem; that was up to my whistling dragon.

When he danced behind Kykherhenha she lashed out with her tail, knocking him down. When he tried to get up, she was on him so fast that he didn’t even have a chance to move. She tore open his chest, and he died instantly... and stupidly. When I told the authorities what had happened, all they could do was shake their heads, and wonder why anyone who attended the university and should know all about Tereskàdians should do something like this.

Well, it seems that I am rolling along here, and I don’t want to stop, but Kykherhenha is giving me a not so subtle hint to stop for today by lying on the floor, and giving me a good view of her teats. Oh, speaking of teats, this is the last day that Jhalhemha is in my chamber, and right now, she is drinking. A little more than eight month, and she will make her appearance.

I lie down beside my whistling dragon, and take her left teat in my mouth, and the liquid which is meant only for this Tereskàdian, flows down my throat. I close my eyes and try to clear my thoughts, but our thoughts, her and mine, mix and mingle like fine sand drifting through water. And soon she falls asleep and dreams of flight, and I am carried along, soaring high above the city, high above the bay, and Phambrech Island, which lies in the middle of the bay. I forget the teat in my mouth, and the milk rushing down my throat, because I have wings, and I can fly, and Kykherhenha’s eyes are my eyes, and her heart is my heart, and her hunger is my hunger, and her thoughts are my thoughts. In her dreams she catches a plump bird that does not have a chance of escaping, and she plucks the feathers, and tears the naked bird apart. Each bite she takes satisfies her hunger, and when she is done, she drops the bones from the sky. I follow their path to the ground, but the scene melts and fades as Kykherhenha wakes up. I guess you really are thirsty, she says.

Jhelhachyzh 18.98/Day 327

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Re: Thekherham's Worlds - TWENTY-SEVEN

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thekherham on Fri May 07, 2010 3:52 am

I am going to continue this journal with the news that the mayor of Treskebhar, Remhan Olhardezh, resigned from his office yesterday because of a scandal at City Hall. It seems that Sen Olhardezh was skimming money from the public purse, and also giving high-paying jobs to family members and friends who were not at all quealified to be in charge of those positions.

I won’t go into any details becaue politics isn’t really of much interest to a Tereskàdian. I just happened to be looking at the headline in the Treskebhar Daily News, and I couldn’t very well miss it. Sen Olhardezh had been mayor for only two years, so he had served only a half of his term.

Khe’ăr has been looking for a part-time job in addition to his position at the Department of Immigration. It seems that the job at the Department has become a part-time job; he is going in only five out of the nine days of the two week period. He goes in early in the morning, and he is home for lunch. We all suspect that he is being phased out, and the reason is his heart.

Lheana and Khe’ăr had a long talk about that in the privacy of their bedroom. I had my hearing turned up when I walked by, and I could not help overhearing. Lheana said that maybe it would be better if we left, considering the amount of money that would be coming in. We can’t support our family, and the Tereskàdians, and the whistling dragons, she said. Khe’ăr would have none of it, of course, saying that the Tereskàdians and the whistling dragons would stay, and there would be no arguments about it.

T’heril did something on the first of the month that drove his sister to attack him, and she did this in front of their younger siblings. T’heril was in the living room, and in full view of his sister, and the younger twins, levitated a bowl of sliced up g’hălhar fruit. It danced in front of Nykha who was looking down at a magazine on the table. She brushed at it absently with her hand, but T’heril kept bothering her by maneuvering it so that she had no choice but to see it. When she did, she exploded, and hit the bowl right back at T’heril, and the fruit spilled... on the table, on the floor, splattering everywhere, including on the younger twins, who jumped and ran out of the room. Nykha launched herself at her brother, and was pummeling him with her fists, screaming at him, demanding to know why he would torture her with his gift. Lheana rushed into the room, and it took a concerted effort on her part to pry Nykha away from her brother.

Needless to say, T’heril was sent to his room after being told he was not to use his gift for a month, and he was not to use it in front of Nykha or the younger twins.

This journal is taking shape late at night. Earlier today Rhalhea and I had opened our chambers in order that Jhalhemha could transfer to Rhalhea’s chamber. When you do a transference, there is sort of an empty feeling... Yeah, yeah, you say, of course there would be an empty feeling when the cub leaves the chamber, but that’s not what I meant. I mean an empty feeling in other senses... emotionally, psychologically... I guess that is why most Tereskàdians use the five-day period when it comes to tranferring their cubs back and forth.

At the same time I transferred Jhalhemha to Rhalhea, Kykherhenha transferred Beshalhen to Keridhar. Kykherhenha tells me that sometimes five days seems to long to wait for the return of the cub, but whistling dragons are known for their patience, and patience was the one commodity she was glad she possesses.

Rheža has come over, her tail uncharacteristically trailing behind her. She climbs up on my lap, and tells me she loves me, and what am I doing? My journal, I tell her. She looks at S’horžăm, and tells him she will drink shortly. She wants to know what a journal, and I tell her. She listens for only a moment before she goes down and takes a drink from her whistling dragon.

I will continue this journal another day.

Jhel. 19.98/Day 328

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Re: Thekherham's Worlds - TWENTY-EIGHT

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thekherham on Sun May 16, 2010 10:50 pm

Today is the last day of Jhelhachyzh, and also the last day that I have Jhalhemha in my chamber. Rhalhea will have her for the next five days, so that will my chamber teat a bit of a rest.

Winter is now about three weeks old, and already there have been three snowstorms that have all but shut down the city. There was hardly any traffic on the streets, as Alharhanians kept their hovercars at home, and the schools have been closed for two days each during these storms. That made the younger twins, and Rheža and S’horžăm very happy, but Nykha and Jhorhea both said they missed school, and grumbled about the snowstorms, and why couldn’t we live somewhere else, like Chendhar.

Rhalhea and I, and the cubs, and our whistling dragons, went to the Albrhaj-Thoŵazh Shopping Center on the 22nd of this month. We took a special bus to the Center, which dropped us off at the main entrance. Both Rhalhea and I had been here before, but Jhorhea and Rheža had never been here, mainly because both my mate and I thought it might be too overwhelming.

Both Khedrhokhazh and S’horžăm took to the air, and showed my daughters the parking lot which was filled with hovercars, and other assorted vehicles. I looked at Rheža standing between Rhalhea and me, and she was fear-shivering. I know she tried to keep her tail in the usual along-the-back position, but of course it dipped down between her legs. I asked her if she watned to go home, but he just twetched her whiskers, indicating that she couldn’t make up her mind.

When she finally did agree to go inside, I warned my cubs to stay with Rhalhea and me at all times. Even though the Tereskàdian Act was passed into law five years ago, there are still those who would do us harm, and they would not think about hurting a cub, because they know that cubs do not have the poison in their claws yet. It would only take a couple of seconds for someone to snatch Rheža or Jhorhea out of our sight, so in order to play it safe, Jhorhea took my paw in hers, and Rheža did the same with Rhalhea. At least we did not have to worry about Jhalhemha and Beshalhen. Our cub was in Rhalhea’s chamber, and the young whistling dragons was in Keridhar’s chamber.

The first thing we noticed once we walked through the main doors was the Alharhanians staring at us. I don’t know why they would do that, because I am sure oather Tereskàdians and whistling dragons must have been in here. But for some reason there is still that fascination that comes with seeing an intelligent furred speciws, accompanied by a whistling dragon. I don’t mind, really, as long as they don't do anything stupid.

I told the cubs that 13,750 stores were under one roof, and Jhorhea wanted to know if that was a lot, and I said of course that’s a lot. I told them it was bigger than the University of Treskebhar, and they understood that, because they attended the university, and they know the size of it.

We walked. I had turned down my hearing the moment we walked in here, but I could hear the rumbling and murmuring of the Alharhanians who walked beside us, in front of us, behind us, walking, walking, looking, exploring, touching, buying, walking. I wondered why each of them was in here. I was sure some of them came here with a specific purpose in mind, while others were here just to look. I counted myself and my family among the latter group.

The first place we went in was Abrhadel and Sons Finest Meats. Last time I was here I spoke to one of the sons, but this time the father was in the shop. He greeted us warmly, but I felt a certain sense of trepidation, as if he were afraid four Tereskàdians and four whistling dragons would be too many for his small shop. I told him we wouldn’t stay too long, and you could almost hear the audible sigh of relief. When I told him we would like an ochăbveŵech roast I realized just how expensive this place was, but this time I wasn’t going to walk out of here because I had thre hundred L’hŏr with me, which was Rhalhea’s and my money from teaching at the University, and writing my column for the Treskebhar Daily News.

Sen Abrhadel processed my order, and told me it would be delivered this afternoon to 5657 Brežendra Road. That order set me back a hundred and five L’hŏr, but I figured it was worth it. We are, after all, carnivores, and meat is the only thing we can eat, and besides, the amoung that I ordered should last us for quite some time.

The cubs were mostly interested in the toy stores. I told them they could pick out one toy each, and I immediately regretted having said that because they couldn’t make up their minds. Rheža showed her choices to S’horžăm, and each time she put it back. I asked Kykherhenha what was going on, and she told me that S’horžăm didn’t like any of the toys his Tereskàdian had picked. Tell him to make up his mind quick, I sent, and Kykherhenha said she would talk with her son. Jhorhea had picked out a puzzle. One thousand small pieces, cut into various shapes that fitted together. Of course the first thing I thought of was that the pieces would get lost. Rheža finally decided on a heavily furred little s’hărkha which, when you pulled a string, made a rather weak purry sound. It wasn’t much to speak of, but it didn’t cost much, and Rheža was happy with it. I bought a deck of playing cards which I was going to give to Khe’ăr and Lheana because the one they were using pent’hăr was getting a little ragged. I asked Rhalhea if she wanted anything, and she said no, she wasn’t interested in anything here.

The clothing stores fascinated us. Through our whistling dragons, Rhalhea and I silently held a conversation, trying to decide what would look good on Khe’ăr or Lheana. Being a Tereskàdian, and having fur, has its advantages and disadvantages. One major advantage is that we do not have to buy clothes because fur is permanent. But that is also its disadvatage. Whereas Alharhanians can remove their clothes and go nude in the summer, Tereskàdians have to either suffer during the hot months of the year, or move somewhere else, like the northern area of Te’hănys.

We had entered the Shopping Center in the morning, and we left it in the afternoon. Before we walked out of there we treated ourselves and our cubs to a lunch at the huge Food Court that had everything from a full coure meal to small tidbits just to tide you over until you went home and ate a proper meal. We stopped in front of a place that served meat, and we were pleased to see the sign

Tereskàdians Welcome. We Cater To You.

So we ordered chunks of raw brokhavel meat for ourselves and the whistling dragons. That cost seventy-five L’hŏr and fifty-five jhen which didn’t leae me with much money. I didn’t mind, though, because the cubs and I had a great time.

That was then, and this is now. Day 337 of the year, which means that there are only eighty-three more days to go until the new year. 5699. It’s hard to believe that we are almost touching the 58th century.

I don’t know what I’m going to write about next time. I should write about the members of the Dhoren family, and my family, and what each is doing. But right now, as I watch Rhalhea take milk from Keridhar, I look back at today’s entry, and realize I’ve written about something that happened about three weeks ago, and I haven’t really written anything current.

Kykherhenha wants me to write something more about my life on Tereskàdhar. I tell her I’ll get to it one of these days, and she wants to know which day.

Jhel. 28.98/Day 337

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Re: Thekherham's Worlds - TWENTY-NINE

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thekherham on Fri May 21, 2010 10:09 pm

A new month arrived four days ago, bringing with it more snow. This does not sit well with the younger twins, and Rheža and S’horžăm because they were hoping to play outside on the first full day of the remaining days of the weekend. Even yesterday, when the Dhoren children and my cubs came home from school early they were hopingto play outside, but the weather was not very co-operative. And it sure doesn’t look too promising for the next few days.

Rhalhea and I slept in this morning, not because we were tired, but because we have this habit of rising early during school days, so we decided to stay in our room, and we would open our eyes when we felt like it. The first thing I saw when I did open my eyes was Kykherhenha’s snout. When I looked into her eyes, they were a serene sky blue. I knew what she wanted me to do, and she knew I was thirsty. I took a quick glance at Rhalhea and Keridhar, and saw they were still asleep. Kykherhenha lay down on the floor, showing her prominent teats. I took the left one in my mouth, and let the milk flow down my throat.

Winter in Te’hănys may be severe, but it can’t stand alongside the long and harsh winters of ‘Hănharys where I spent the first fifteen years of my life. I experienced my first snowstorm when I was three years old. Papa and Khedharhij had been out hunting, and had come home with a medium-sized mammal that would hardly be a meal for the three of us. But the potential meal was pushed to the background when Papa told Mama and me and our whistling dragons that a huge snowstorm was coming, and we would probably would have to remain indoors for the enxt few days. The small animal that Papa had brought home seemed to grow much smaller. I was still nursing on Mama’s and Papa’s teats, but I was also editing solid food, and the sight of Papa’s small prey did not stir my confidence that we would have enough to eat.

Dŵeshades... the White Death. A very appropriate name. If anyone is caught outside when dŵeshades strikes, the chances of escaping the fury of the storm are very slim. So Kykherhenha and I stood by the window and waited for the storm. As far as you could see there was nothing but white. I wished Kykherhenha could fly so she could show me my world from her viewpoint, but she was still learning how to fly properly.

I decided to sit by the window to see the arrival of the storm. Mama was busy skinning the prey as she prepared our meager meal. She did not seem to be at all interested in the impending storm, but I guessed that she was probably familiar with dŵeshades.

There was no warning of the storm’s arrival. One moment Kykherhenha and I were looking at the whiteness outside the window, and we could see the woods and the beginning of the path that led to the lake where I was born, and the next all we saw was the savage swirling of snow, as if the Creator were blowing it in a fit of uncontrollable fury. The woods had disappeared in a curtain of white that threatened to engulf everything in its path. Instinctively I began to fearshiver, and my tail slunk between my legs. We’re safe here, Kykherhenha said, but that did not make me feel any safer.

I had turned down my hearing when the storm arrived, but now I restored it to its normal range, and the howling of the wind was like a lonely khobharet seeking a mate. I hugged Kykherhenha close to me, and shivered uncontrollably.

Mama came over and took me in her arms, and I sought her right teat and drank. I closed my eyes and shut off my hearing completely, and for those brief moments I was blind and I was deaf, and only the thoughts of my whistling dragon told me there was a world of sight and sound out there, and the color of white and the sound of fury dominated everything in the village.

When I opened my eyes I saw Papa at the table, tearing apart the prey, dividing it into portions. I was hungry, and I wanted a piece of meat, but I knew I would have to wait until it was ready. I let go of Mama’s teat, and she put me on the floor. When I looked out the window, nothing had changed. I wondered if dŵeshades would stay forever, but I knew that was impossible.

Even though all this happened more than twenty years ago, the memory has clung to my mind, and will probably remain there forever. My good friend Rheôvhan told me once that first experiences invoke the sharpest memories which is why I have such a vivid recall of dŵeshades that swept through the village when I was three years old, even though I have lived through more snowstorms before I left Tereskàdhar about twelve years later.

Brhe’ălhachyzh 5.98/Day 342

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Re: Thekherham's Worlds - THIRTY

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thekherham on Sun May 30, 2010 10:49 pm

Two and a half more months of winter, and I’m loving it. My fur is thick and solf, and of course with the weather being this cold I don’t shed. This doesn’t please Lheana too much because she relies on my fur and Rhalhea’s fur to make her sweaters. But with the very cold weather hovering over the region these last few weeks, business has slowed considerably. This morning she told me that she is glad she has an overflow of stock which should keep the business going for a short time, but if it does not warm up over the next two or three weeks, she would have to wait until spring to continue her business.

T’heril has apologized to the Tereskàdian family in front of about twenty Alharhanians and Tereskàdians and I could see he was rather embarrassed by the whole episode. He also completed his community service by helping out at the Treskebhar Public Library, cleaning up Šhĕrhach Park, which is not far from the university, and running errands for an elderly Alharhanian couple that live at the corner of Lhažel Street and Brežendra Road. When he was done he went before the judges who asked him if he had learned his lesson, and he said he had. The judges looked at me and Rhalhea, and I told them T’heril was telling the truth. T’heril stated that he had made some friends at school, and a couple of them were Tereskàdians. This seemed to please the judges considerably, and they closed the case by dismissing T’heril, warning him that if such a felony were to occur again, Jhanhekhar would be his destination. T’heril assured them it would never happen again.

Even though the weather is extremely cold, the Dhoren children and my cubs went to school. Nykha has been bringing home a lot of homework, but T’heril says he’s been doing it at school. He is telling the truth, although I am somewhat puzzled. It seems that Nykha is studying more than her brother, and it is rather apparent when the twins show their interim report card to their parents, and Khe’ăr asks his son why his marks are so low. Speaking of report cards, the final marks will be recorded, and the report cards will be issued to all students on the last day of school for the current year, the 25th of Armhachyzh, which is about a month and a half away.

Arhen and Fhenha, the younger twins, have only a minimum amount of homework so they spend most of their time outside, playing in the snow. They are dressed warmly, of course, but getting them to put on their coats and mitts and hats is real chore, and Lheana has to tell them over and over again that if they want to freeze they can go right ahead and go out just the way they are. A few days ago Arhen looked at me, and said he wishes he were a Tereskàdian, then he wouldn’t have to worry about clothes. I told him he would have to eat raw meat, and drink the milk from the teats of his whistling dragon, and he couldn’t eat or drink anything else. That stopped him right in his tracks, because I knew he wasn’t willing to sacrifice all the different foods he can eat and drink just to be a Tereskàdian. He asked me if I ever got bored with eating and drinking the same stuff all the time, and I told him that was the way I was made, and my mind could not conceive of eating anything but meat and drinking anything but Kykherhenha’s milk.

Jhorhea is doing really well in school, and I do not see any problems with her report card next month. She has made a lot of friends, and they seem to genuinely like her. The other day I wondered if she has been on the lookout for a potential mate, and Kykherhenha told me that surely it was a bit early for her to be thinking of a mate. Her cycle is still about five years away... well, less than that now, since the cubs’ birthdays are only about seven months away. Time moves swiftly, I told Kykherhenha. Before you know it, we’ll be old, and we’ll have grandcubs, and great grandcubs.

One thing I have noticed about Jhorhea is that she spends a lot of time grooming herself. Now we Tereskàdians are known for keeping ourselves clean, making sure our fur is just right, but sometimes I think my daughter is overdoing it. Rhalhea assures me there is nothing to worry about, she was the same way when she was Jhorhea’s age, but it seems that everyt time I walk into our room, there she is, taking the liquid from her oil gland at the base of her tail, and distributing it throughout her fur. And of course Khedrhokhazh is right there to help her with those hard-to-reach places.

Rheža spends most of her times outside with S’horžăm, and the younger Dhoren twins. Her whistling dragon is flying like a pro now, and he spends most of the time showing Rheža what he sees. Arhen and Fhenha keep pestering her to tell them what S’horžăm sees, so she interprets the images that her whistling dragon sends her. Most of the time it’s usually something mundane, like different buildings, or Alharhanians walking, or an animal.

Jhalhemha is in Rhalhea’s chamber. When I transferred her two days ago, I told Rhalhea that this was the first time in the entire five days that I had her that she hasn’t pulled my chamber teat really hard. She never pulls my teat that hard, she said. Maybe it’s because you’re her father,a nd I guess you should be able to stand a little pain. I could not understand her reasoning, because when I was a cub, my father never complained when my brother Temžărhen, and then Tez’hărhej, were in his chamber.

Let me tell you a bit about the work Rhalhea and I are doing at the university. Rhalhea’s job has become semi-permanent because one of the teachers who instructs the younger Alharhanians has left until the new year because of family matters, and Sen Mharen decided to hire Rhalhea to take her place, at least until the end of the year. This didn’t sit too well with one of the temporary Alharhanian teachers who told Sen Mharen that she had been at university a lot longer than Rhalhea. Sen Mharen pointed out that Rhalhea has a better rapport with the younger students, and besides, he would run the univerisyt any way he liked, and if he wanted to hire a tezuelhan, then he would do so. He told the teacher that a third of the students in Rhalhea’s class were Tereskàdian cubs, and it seemed only logical that their teacher should also be a Tereskàdian.

I had to opportunity to lecture a class of Tereskàdianology students last week. Seventy-five students, most of them only a few years younger than me, listened to my historical perspective of Alharhan-Tereskàdhar relationship. I had not even reached the halfway point of my address when one of the students shouted out that the Alharhanians had every right to claim Tereskàdhar in the name of Alharhan. You were living on a planet you didn’t know what to do with, he said. I had no desire to argue with him, so I tried to continue my lecture. That did not please him at all, so he accused me of being weak, of finding confidence only because I have the poison in my claws. I didn’t like the direction in which this was heading. It usually starts with, If you didn’t the poison in your claws... and ends with somebody dead on the floor because he thought he could do something no Alharhanian has ever done.

I continued my lecture despite his protests. When he became too annoying I sent him to Sen Mharen’s office. I did not want an incident at the university. I have been involved in far too many incidents, and they usually end up with an Alharhanian dead.

Brh. 12.98/Day 349

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Re: Thekherham's Worlds - THIRTY-ONE

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thekherham on Sun Jun 06, 2010 3:27 pm

These past seven days since I last wrote this journal have seen a dramatic increase in temperature throughout the region. The good news, at least to us Tereskàdians, was tat is was still cold enough for us to enjoy ourselves outdoors, but not so cold that the Alharhanians were bitching. If they find the weather too cold, they should either move to a warmer climate, or shut up about it. But I guess they have their reasons for staying in a country that is situated in the northern hemisphere of the continent.

It’s not like the entire country is covered in snow. Te’hănys is so big that the southern portion doesn’t even get any snow, so... Alharhanians are stubborn, though. Once they settle down somewhere, that’s where they stay, and the only time they go somewhere else is when they go on vacation. The family we are staying with, the Dhorens, have been living in the house on Brežendra Road since Khe’ăr and Lheana were married seventeen years ago. Both sets of twins were born in this house.

A day after my last journal entry Khe’ăr came up to me and asked me if I wanted to visit my brother in Frešherod. I didn’t answer right away because the question came as a surprise. I wondered what reason Khe’ăr would have to want to ask me, because the last time the Dhoren family went anywhere was three years ago when they afforded themselves the luxury of travelin across the country to Chendhar. Rhalhea and I decided not to go along because the season was summer, and Chendhar, from what I have read, tends to get rather hot in the summer. We didn’t feel like panting all the time we were there.

Frešherod, though, is only an hour’s drive from the edge of Treskebhar. According to my brother, it is in a farming area, and most of the farmers there are very friendly toward the Tereskàdians and their whistling dragons. He emphasized the word ‘most’, telling me about this one Alharhanian who has done everyting short of murder to disrupt Temžărhen and Brhenha’s lives. The other farmers have gone to the trouble of supplying Temžărhen and his family with meat. Temžărhen told me that he has the opportunity to slaughter the prey, as he called it, himself. That made me thinka bout the meat I get at the Shopping Center, already dead, already prepared. Suddenly, I felt so much less than a Tereskàdian; I was becoming like an Alharhanian. I was getting away from the natural surroundings the Creator intended for us. I vowed that when we moved out of the Dhoren home we would find a place somewhere close to nature. Maybe not Frešherod, or any of other small towns in that area, but somewhere in the true wilderness. I was thinking of Mount Thabrhal, but Kykherhenha said she would rather be somewhere near water.

On the fifteenth of the month, work and school lasted only hald a day, for which I was bery grateful because I had trouble with the weekly column I was writing. Since its inception about three months ago, ‘Life through my Eyes’ has developed a loyal following. Many Alharhanians like to read about Tereskàdians from a Tereskàdian’s point of view, but the trouble is I tell it like it is. I mean, I don’t pull any punches, and that’s what pisses some people off. And then they send me nasty messages, with the usual ‘Why don’t you go back where you came from’, and ‘If you didn’t have the poison in your claws...’ You know what I think? They’re afraid of the truth. When I call them stupid, because they don’t understand anything about the Tereskàdians and the whistling dragons, that’s exactly what they are. How many times do you have to tell someone not to attack a Tereskàdian? How many times do you have to tell someone that the milk belongs to a whistling dragon’s Tereskàdian, not to some Alharhanian who thinks he can handle what is basically a poison to him? How many times do you have to tell someone that just because a cub does not have the poison in her claws that doesn’t mean she can’t defend herself, or she can’t contact her parents through her whistling dragon? When you attack one of our cubs, you attack us, and you know the consequences.

Stupid stupid stupid. That’s all I have to say.

Anyway, my ears are in the proper position and my tailtip isn’t flicking, and I’ve taken a deep breath., I have decided to take my writing along, and maybe I could do something on the bus, and still get it to the Treskebhar Daily News in time. I spoke with the editor, and told her I couldn’t promise anything, but I would try very hard. Not to worry, she said. If you can’t get it done, we’ll just say that you decided to take a week off.

Khe’ăr and Lheana and their kids, and Rhalhea and the cubs and I prepared everything on the afternoon and the evening of the fifteenth, so that we could leave early in the morning. I wondered why we had to leave so early since was only an hour’s drive away, but Lheana told me that we were going to take a bus, and if we didn’t take the early morning bus down to Frešherod, the next bus wouldn’t come until shortly before noon.

So early next morning we stood on the sidewalk in front of Khe’ăr’s house, waiting for the bus. There was Khe’ăr, Lheana, the older twins, Nykha and T’heril, the younger twins, Arhen and Fhenha, Rhalha and Keridhar, Thekherham and Kykherhenha, Jhorhea and Khedrhokhazh, and Rheža and S’horžăm. Jhalhemha had been transferred to my chamber before we left the house, while Beshalhen transferred to Kykherhenha’s chamber. MY youngest daughter did not take the teat right away, but moved around a lot, as if she knew something was happening.

When the bus arrived we got on board quickly and quietly. I think the Dhoren children and the cubs were still tired, because they were not used to getting up so early on a weekend. T’heril mumbled something about wanting to stay home in his own bed, but I knew he didn’t have any choice. Both Nykha and Jhorhea yeawned at the same time. Nykha stared at Jhorhea, or rather her very sharp canines, and I wondered why, because she has seen them many times. We are, aftter all, carnivores, so the dental configurations that we have should not have come as a surprise.

This was one of those special buses that had its seats in the rear half removed to allow the whistling dragons on board. So the Alharhanians and Tereskàdians sat at the front, and the whistling dragons occupied the back. I kept in constant contact with Kykherhenha, and she told me she was looking out the window, trying to find some prey. Not in the city, I told her. When are we going to get out of the city? she asked, and I said I didn’t know, but I would ask Khe’ăr.

I knew Treskebhar was huge, but I didn’t know how huge. We live in the northern part of the city, so most of it lay south of Te’hănys Bay. We drove on the main thoroughfare, Lhažel Sreet, which had turned into a twelve lane divided highway (six lanes in each direction) that let you go as fast as you wanted. The bus driver was taking his time, and his bus was passed was by almost every hovercar.

While we were traveling south I pulled out my papers, and started to work on ‘Life through my Eyes’. Rhalhea, who had been sitting beside me, had gone to the back to suck on Keridhar’s teats. Jhorhea and Rheža were sitting side by side across from me, looking at books they had brought with them. Jhorhea was reading a rather lengthy-looking book, and Rheža was leafing through a picture book. In front of them, Arhen and Fhenha were talking quietly, and I could hear the occasional giggle escape from their lips. Both of them were looking out the window, and they seemed to be extremely bored. Khe’ăr and Lheana sat in front of me, and they were quiet. Khe’ăr had closed his eyes as soon as he had taken his seat, and Lheana, sitting beside him was staring straight ahead.

We were nearing the edge of the city when I noticed that the tall buildings in the center had vanished, and we were now driving past residential buildings which at first were rather clustered, like a swarm of those nasty little insects called ešhěkon, but then the houses became fewer and fewer until the scenery changed to grassland and small forests, and later to farmland. My cubs were fascinated with the different species of animals that grazed in fenced fields. I didn’t know their names at the time, but I told my cubs that these were the animals that were slaughtered and prepared for sale at the Shopping Center. Jhorhea remarked that when she grew up she would do her own hunting, and Rheža echoed her sister’s statement, telling me that S’horžăm would look for the prey, and she would kill it... just as soon as she had the poison in her claws, she added.

Once we were out of the city the bus driver sped up, but just a little. I didn’t know what he was trying to do, but it seemed he was driving slowly deliberately. Unless it was my imagination, of course. But I did not like the way he kept looking in the mirror at me. Was he one of the Alharhanians who hated us? Not that I really cared. His job was to drive us to Frešherod, and that was all.

I must have closed my eyes for a few moments because when I opened them, Rhalhea was sitting beside me again, studying her paws. I looked out the window, and saw more farmland, more animals. Treskebhar River runs parallel with Lhažel Street, and, for the most part, it was always in view, traveling with us like a constant companion. It had widened considerably, and its waters looked rather dark and choppy, but that could have been because of the season, and the wind. When I looked at it, it reminded me of the time on Tereskàdhar when I found myself in the ocean after being forced out of a plane. I was only twelve at the time, and I had to fight two very dangerous creatures, the cheperhaun and the kilirid, but I managed to defeat them both, despite not having poison in my claws.

I wish you hadn’t thought about that, Kykherhenha sent from the back. I told her it slipped my mind. She wanted me to come back and drink, so I moved past Rhalhea, out into the aisle, and went to her.

When I returned Khe’ăr turned his head and told me that something was wrong. We were still on Lhažel Street, which goes all the way to South Te’hănys, but the bus driver should have turned off sooner than that. I must have missed the signs, Lheana added. I asked Khe’ăr what the next town after Frešherod is, and he told me Beràden. Watch for the signs for Beràden, I said, and then we’ll know if we’ve gone too far.

I had a feeling that a family of Alharhanians and a family of Tereskàdians who wanted to visit my brother and his family in a town called Frešherod was being manipulated by a bus driver who decided that he would play games with us. We found this out a short time later when we saw the signs that pointed to Beràden, quite a distance from the highway.

I think you missed Frešherod, Khe’ăr told the bus driver. Without turning around, the bus driver said he did, and what was Khe’ăr going to do about it? When Khe’ăr told him to stop the bus I knew the driver wouldn’t co-operate. So Khe’ăr pulled out his little mobile videophone and called the bus company. He said he had a way to get this bus stopped, and he was going to do just that.

All vehicles travel just above the ground, guided by a myriad of wires under the highway. Everything is electronic and computerized or... I don’t know exactly how it workds, because Tereskàdians are not really mechanically inclined. Let’s just say that Khe’ăr entered a special code that shut down the linds from the road underneath the bus to the bus, so that it was literally stopped dead. In other words, the driver couldn’t do anything with the bus except just sit there and wonder why it wasn’t moving.

Khe’ăr told me that not everybody could do this, of course, or there would be chaos on the streets, but he had a spcial code and password that gave him the authority to stop any vehicle dead in its track. I guess it’s because you work for the Department of Immigration, Rhalhea said. You are rigorousy scrutinized before you are given the clode, Khe’ăr said.

The bus driver lied about accidentally missing the Frešherod cut-off. He said he was going to get off the Beràden exit, and then head back up north again. He was lying so bad, he smelled like a dead t’hŏphar. Where were you going to take us? Khe’ăr asked. Nowhere, he said, and I sensed a droplet of truth in that. Who told you to do this? Nobody. Khe’ăr looked at me. A lie, I said. Khe’ăr asked the question again, looking directly into his eyes, which blinked a lot, or at least it seemed that way to me. Drevhal Lhobhtech, he finally said. The name was meaningless to me, but Khe’ăr recognized it immediately.

The deputy mayor of Treskebhar, he said, and everyone, Alharhanians and Tereskàdian, looked at him. Why would an Alharhanian, with whom I was not familiar, want to hire a bus driver to take us to a different destination?

Get off the bus, Khe’ăr told the driver. The Alharhanian didn’t budge at first, until Khe’ăr told him again, adding, I’m going to call the bus company, telling them that I am commandeering the bus, and that I will return it on the eighteenth. I am also going to report this to the Department.

When Khe’ăr told him that, the driver said that Deputy Mayor Lhobharech can’t be touched, but Khe’ăr just laughed, and then grew serious in a hurry. A crime has been committed, he said, and Lhobhatech is involved. What exactly was he going to do? Silence. Khe’ăr asked the question again, telling him that it was no use to lie, because I would be able to tell.

The Ap’hăkharys, he said. Read The Ap’hăkharys. And that’s all he would say.

What in the name of the Creator did a book of prophecies have to do with a trip to a small town to visit my brother?

Brh. 19.98/Day 356

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Thekherham
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Re: Thekherham's Worlds - THIRTY-TWO

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thekherham on Tue Jun 15, 2010 9:02 pm

I had hoped to continue this journal on the 20th but whenever you plan something, there are always things that prevent you from doing what you wanted to do in the first place. It is now twelve days since we took that fateful trip on the bus to visit my brother Temžărhen and his family. In my last journal entry I noted that our bus driver was doing everything in his power to prevent us from going to the town of Frešherod, including deliberately missing the exit from the main thoroughfare, Lhažel Street.

Read the Ap’hăkharys, he had said. A book of prophecies, written by a young Alharhanian named Krysa Rhona who had been dead for a thousand years.

Was there something in that book the bus driver was trying to fulfill? If there was, it could have affected all of us, because Krysa’s predictions have, so far, all come true. She made thousands of predictions in the 600+ page book, and every one has so far been fulfilled, even though through the ages, Alharhanians have tried to prevent the predictions from coming to pass.

That has always puzzled me. I have looked through the book, and found references to myself, as well as Jackson Markham Tyler. Just in case anyone thinks that Krysa Rhona predicted only death and destruction, that is as far from fact as Tereskàdhar is from Alharhan. She predicted that there was an alien species living on Tereskàdhar, and the arrival of Sen Tyler, among the many none-death, non-destruction predictions. Of course, most of her predictions were of the ‘doom-and-gloom’ variety, as one critic pointed out.

But what I am getting at is this: If it is known that an event will occur, whether it is an event involving just one being, or a univeral event that affects all, or many, what are the chances of preventing that event from occurring? Taking the second point first, Krysa predicted that there would be a war between Tereskàdhar and Alharhan in the late 5680’s. This war... well, actually, a scuffle between forces on Tereskàdhar, led by Jhar Morněl, who had proclaimed himself ruler after the death of Thalif VIII, the last of the kings of Tereskàdhar, and the much more powerful countries of Alharhan... did happen, just as she had predicted, and it culminated with the death of Jhar Morněl at the paws of a Tereskàdian, just as she had predicted. Morněl had read that passage, and he knew it referred to him, because everything in the words she wrote referred to him, even though for some reason she did not mention any names. Jhar Morněl was the Alharhanian who tried everything in his power to destroy us, even sending agents to Alharhan to assassinate all the Tereskàdians that lived there. (I was still living on Tereskàdhar at the time.) Both my parents were killed (my mother was brutally raped); fortunately, many cubs, including my brothers and me, escaped, and were brought to Alharhan. The scary thought here is that 95% of all Tereskàdians and whistling dragons were murdered; the scarier thought is that because of the number of cubs we produce, and the number of years between each cub, we are still far below the population we once were.

As you may have noticed, I am digressing considerably here, but I don’t really care. The facts speak for themselves, and out history is recoreded in books and other media devices that will live on in the future.

The second point is personal predictions. Even though in some cases Krysa Rhona did not name names or put dates to events Alharhanians read between the lines, and saw themselves in her predictions. To give just one example, Krysa predicted that in 5612 (which would be earlier this century) the king of Mhavred, one of the countries on the continent of M’hărhachăzh, would die due to a fall from a tezuelhan. Now this happened eighty-six years ago, well before my time, so I am not sure if his majesty, King Aženbharin I, had read The Ap’hăkharys, because just as Krysa had predicted, shortly after he mounted the animal for a ride through the woods, it spooked, throwing him off. The king’s head landed on a rock, and he died instantly. Now, my question is: If King Aženbharin I had read the book, and seen himself in there, could he have prevented his death? And that, of course, leads to more questions. If you somehow prevent a prediction from coming true, is there a chance that the prediction will come true on some future date. Continuing with the example, what if his majesty had said, Aha, I’m supposed to be killed when my tezuelhan throws me from the saddle, but what if I don’t go riding today? I’ll just go out the next day, or the next week, any day except today. Has he successfully defeated the prediction, or is there a chance it will still come ture?

So, taking this back to the present time, or I should say twelve days ago, when we were standing by a bus parked on the side of the road: What was the prediction this bus driver was referring to, and if death or disaster was involved, could we prevent it from occurring?

The problem we had was that there was no copy of The Ap’hăkharys available, so we could not check out what the bus driver was talking about. When Khe’ăr pressed him for an explanation, he refused to say anything, but only referred us to the book again. Is someone going to die? Khe’ăr asked, but he wouldn’t answer. I could see that this Alharhanian was going to be stubborn, and any attempt on our part to obtain any answers, would only silence him further.

Khe’ăr took him aside and spoke to him. I turned up my hearing and listened in, as Khe’ăr told the driver that all he and his family, and the Tereskàdians and whistling dragons wanted to do was go to Frešherod so we could visit my brother. The driver shook his head, and said we couldn’t do that, because of what he had read in The Ap’hăkharys. When Khe’ăr began to press him again, he became silent once more. That really pissed me off, because if he knew something was going to happen, why didn’t he just tell us?

The answer was obvious, of course. He hated us; he wanted me and my family, and our whistling dragons, out of the way. There was something in The Ap’hăkharys that was going to happen on this particular date that involved Tereskàdians and whistling dragons, and he was detemined that Krysa’s predictions should be fulfilled.

Khe’ăr had had enough. Telling everyone to get on the bus, he went on board, after telling the driver that he had a choice of either getting aboard, or remaining here. The driver chose to come on board, which rather puzzled me, because earlier he had been so detemined to keep us as far from Frešherod as possible. Something definitely was not right here, and I was going to find out what it was.

When Khe’ăr finally got the bus in gear, and gave it directions to Frešherod, he set it on automatic, and joined me and the driver at the back of the bus. I looked at Kykherhenha who sent me a message that she was full of milk, but I told her I would drink as soon as I could.

I had to ask questions to which the driver could reply ‘yes’ and ‘no’. That way I could tell if he was lying or not. Of course, he could very well not answer at all, in which case the matter of truth or falsehood could be determined in another way. And that was by watching his body language; even in silence, the body says an awful lot, and sometimes posture, and expression, are just as powerful a determining factores in the way Alharhanians tell a truth or a falsehood as the words themselves.

I started by asking his name. He said it was Vhalel Falgharen. We continued the small talk: He was thirty-six years old, had a mate, and two children, a boy and a girl, twelve and nine. He had been employed with the bus company for seven years, and he enjoyed his job. As expected, he was telling the truth.

I decided to ask more pertinent questions: Are you afraid of something? I thought he wouldn’t answer, but he said he was. Are you afraid that something will happen in Frešherod? Silence. It was as I suspected, but the way he shivered ever so slightly, and the way beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and the way his hands grasped each other, told me that he knew something was going to happen in Frešherod.

Now that we had that established the question was: What was going to happen in Frešherod? There was only one way to determine the answer. I had to contact my brother through Kykherhenha. I hadn’t planned to do this because I wanted to surprise my brother and his family, but this was an instance where I had to think of the future, which could very well affect not only those on this bus, but also the inhabitants of the town of Frešherod.

When I asked the driver again what would happen, he again told us to read the Ap’hăkharys. I decided not to question him any further, but told Khe’ăr whenever we exited the highway to go to Frešherod, to pull over somewhere at a place that sold books to see if we could get a copy of The Ap’hăkharys.

A short time later we were parked on a lightly traveled street, in the village of Edhapebisthan, about half an hour drive from our destination. A small bookstore nearby had a copy of the book, but the proprietor wanted more than what it was worth. I didn’t really care, and I told Khe’ăr to buy it, because I wanted to find out what Sen Falgharen was so afraid of.

We returned to the bus, sat down at the front, away from Sen Falgharen, who was looking at the whistling dragons. Khe’ăr leafed through the thick book, trying to find Krysa’s predictions for 5698, and particularly the month of Brhe’ălhachyzh. I should mention here that when the book was first published it was not organized the way it is now. These days you can, for example, find out what Krysa predicted for a particular year, a particular month, a particular sday, sometimes just one or two, sometimes none at all.

There was one prediction for the 16th of Brhe’ălhachyzh. Khe’ăr and I stared at it, unable to say anyuthing. And then Lheana and Rhalhea came over, and wanted to know what we had found out. Silently, Khe’ăr gave his mate the book, and she looked at the passage. Oh, my. That was all Lheana said, and she said it so quietly, I almost didn’t hear her. May the Creator protect us all, Rhalhea added when she saw what Krysa had predicted.

We were heading straight into an event that would change the rest of our lives.

Brh. 28.98/Day 365

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Re: Thekherham's Worlds - THIRTY-THREE

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thekherham on Thu Jul 01, 2010 9:02 am

I know I should continue the events I have described in the previous two chapters, but if you will be patient, I shall first catch up a bit on more recent matters. We are halfway through the month of Armhachyzh, which is the second last month of the year. There are only forty-one days left in the year, and we are heading closer to 5699. This is also the month that Alharhanian children and Tereskàdian cubs write their final exams in a variety of subjects, including science, geography, history, math, political science, philosophy, sociology, and many others. I can say I know what it is like because I had gone through the same ordeal about five years ago. So far I have not heard any complaints from either the children or the cubs. Nykha is confident that she is passing every test, and T’heril just shrugs and says he doesn’t know how he is doing, he’ll just wait for the results. As usual, Nykha has done very well in school and even T’heril is improving, so I’m confident that they’ll advance to the next level. Arhen and Fhenha, the younger twins, are taking very simple tests, such as printing and addition and subtraction. As for my cubs, Rheža is only five years old, so she does not have to take any tests, but her teacher is looking at what she and her classmates have done in the way of printing and simple addition. Jhorhea always seems nervous before each test, and she says she wishes the month was over, and school was done until the new year.

Rhalhea is busy at the university, but I haven’t had a call since the month started. It seems that all the teachers and instructors are back in their classrooms, so there is really no need for me to come in. I don’t really mind, because I have been busy with my column in the Treskebhar Daily News. It has become extremely popular, according to a survey that stated out of every one hundred Alharhanians (and Tereskàdians, I presume) that read the News, eighty-five read my column. I have also been busy with the sequel to my autobiography, but I would use the term ‘busy’ rather loosely. It seems that I write a few lines, perhaps a couple of paragraphs, and then I put it aside again. I have spent more time looking at my autobiography, even though I have no reason other than the fascination with the first seventeen years of my life. Whenever I reread it, it brings back so many memories, both good and bad. Right now, I am reading the chapter in which I am four years old, when I met Tharlhan Vhorhem, an Alharhanian who traveled up to Tereskàdhar to write a picture book... he called it a photojournal about Tereskàdians titled In the Company of Tereskàdians. I have the book in my possession, because most of the photographs he took were of me and Kykherhenha. Even the cover shows me, a young cub, with his whistling dragon sitting to his right, looking straight at the camera that hovered in front of us, guided by Sen Vhorhem’s voice.

A great many memories flood into my mind now, some of which bother me so much that Kykherhenha wants to know why I would dredge up the bad ones. Memories of the sexual abuse at the hands of a female Alharhanian who called herself Queen Anhaverha, the kidnapping of me and my friend Rheôvhan by an Alharhanian named Evhanel Reberhad, the accusation that Sen Vhorhem wanted to mate with a Tereskàdian female, and the subsequent proof of that. I think even at a very young age Tereskàdians retain the significant memories, whether they are good or bad. I can even remember performing kharpentrhan, which is the detailed exploration of one’s father, and per’hădereshan, which is the term used for male cub who explores his mother. I do not remember my birth, of course, or much of my first year in the chambers, but those events were related to me by my parents. So, even though I do not remember being born under water, whenever I listened to my parents describe it, I felt as if I had actually been there, observing, instead of being the particpant.

I am looking at the previous entry, and Kykherhenha is looking over my shoulder. I didn’t want to be interrupted so I sucked on her left teat for a very long time, closing my eyes and trying to push this journal into the background. I promised I would take care of her right teat after I was done with this chapter.

‘Into the town of Frešherod, the sixteen shall ride
Inside a steel and glass conveyance, without a rider;
It shall move as if possessed by magic.
Ten walk upon two legs, and four upon four,
Yet two of the sixteen are unseen,
But I sense their presence.
In the town of Frešherod dwells an evil,
In the form of tallness, black hair, black beard,
And weapons within the reach of his hands.
And the evil, with those that follow him,
Came down from the mountains west of Frešherod.
And in the town of Frešherod, there dwells
The beings whose ancestors have come
From the planet called Tereskàdhar.
And the laws of the land
Shall be like water to the one
Who would enslave them,
And abuse them, and kill them,
Just for his own pleasure.
And the males and the females and the cubs,
And the animals that accompany them always
Shall be put to death on this day.
And I see the bodies fall, and I see the blood flow,
And I see his triumphant smile.
And the wicked shall triumph,
And none shall survive.
The Alharhanians who live there
Shall watch with morbid fascination,
And the blood of their neighbors
Shall be on their hands.
The sixteen shall walk into the den of the evil,
And their lives shall be forfeit to the one
Who mocks the existence
Of those who are different.
And those unfortunate to be with them
Shall suffer the same fate.’

The first thing I thought of was my brother Temžărhen , and his mate Brhenha, and their whistling dragons, ‘Hădholhaj and Mhažărhad. They have two cubs, Arhodin and Lhorhan, and their whistling dragons, Khašhanha and Drelha. I had not seen them in a long time, and now that I had read that passage from The Ap’hăkharys, I feared for them. Krysa Rhona wrote that over a thousand years before the 16th of Brhe’ălhachyzh because she saw what would happen in her future. How could she know that in this small town, a town that probably didn’t even exist so long ago, or maybe was just a tiny village, a group of Tereskàdian-hating Alharhanians would defy the Tereskàdian Act that protects each and every one of us and our whistling dragons, and commit mass murder of every Tereskàdian and every whistling dragon in the twon, and even those of us who were just coming to town to visit family were marked for death.

I tried to contact my brother via our whistling dragons. I told Kykherhenha the message, and if ‘Hădholhaj was still alive, she would receive that message, and pass it on to Temžărhen. In the writings on this planet, direct telepathic communication, such as that between Kykherhenha and myself, is indicated by italics; the communication achieved by transferred telepathy, such as Thekherham-Kykherhenha-‘Hădholhaj-Temžărhen, is indicated by italics, as well as the symbol ^. Only the first and last ‘speaker’ are shown.

I breathed a sigh of relief when Temžărhen answered me. I told him about Krysa Rhona’s passage, and he sent back a message that there was no sign of any evil Alharhanian or any other Alharhanians that accompanied him. I found that rather strange because, first of all, Krysa Rhona’s predictions have always come true, and second, here it was late afternoon, and if anything was going to happen on this particular day, it had to happen soon.

Vhalel Falgharen, the bus driver, adamently refused to drive us into Frešherod. He told Khe’ăr that if he wanted to take the bus into the town we were welcome to it, but he was going to stay as far away from that town as he could. When Khe’ăr said we would take the bus into town, I questioned him about that. I said if we did not go into town, wouldn’t that change Krysa’s predictions? Yes, he said, but then your brother and his mate and their cubs, and all the other Tereskàdians that live there would be killed. The only chance we have is to go in there, before the evil shows up and murders everyone.

If we did that, I knew that we would die, too. So we were caught between a high wall and a deep ocean. Either we stayed where we were, and let dozens of innocent Tereskàdians and whistling dragons die, or we rode into town, and risked the chance of being murdered ourselves.

Somehow, I had to find a way to change Krysa’s prediction. I was no about to accept blindly the fact that all of her predictions have come true. I believe thatif you read something this is supposed to happen in the futre, you have the opportunity to change it. If you do not accept that opportunity, then you might as well lay down and accept your fate. If you believe that changing someone’s preicitions would be detrimental to the whole of society, then you might a living, breathing entity. I could not, in all conscience, stand here and wait for Krysa Rhona’s predictions to come true.

And then, Temžărhen contacted me. ^It’s the mayor of Frešherod,^ he sent via ‘Hădholhaj. When I asked him what he looked like, he described an Alharhanian who was the exact image of Krysa Rhona’s description.

^Tell me what’s going on,^ I urged.

^He wants all the Tereskàdians and whistling dragons to come to the Town Center. He says he has an important message for all of us.^

^You know he’s lying, don’t you.^

^Yes, I know, Thekherham, but what can we do?^

^How many Tereskàdians live in Frešherod?^

^Seventy-seven.^

^We’re coming there.^

He protested, of course. He said if he had to die, then he would die, but he didn’t want me to get killed as well. I told him I wasn’t going to come into town to get killed, but maybe I could bargain with the Alharhanian Krysa Rhona simply called ‘evil’.

Khe’ăr, in the meantime, had been busy contactin the Te’hănian authorities who told him they would send a patrol jet to see what was going on. He did not tell them about the passage in The Ap’hăkharys, because if he had, they would most likely have refused to come.

We all agreed that in order to change Krysa Rhona’s prediction we would not ride into Frešherod on the bus. W would only take it as close as we could without being seen, and then we would walk. I hoped that the mayor and his followers would not be too quick to massacre the Tereskàdians and their whistling dragons.

Lheana remarked that the passage had said ‘And the evil, with those that follow him,/Came down from the mountains west of Frešherod.’ She could not understand how an Alharhanian could come down from the mountains west of Frešherod if he was the mayor. I told her it could have meant that some time ago he came from the mountain area west of Frešherod, settled in the twon, and ran for mayor, all for the purpose of eventually destroying the Tereskàdians and their whistling dragons.

So, on a late, sunny, but chilly winter day, four Tereskàdians, six Alharhanians, and four whistling dragons (I had told them not to fly) walked into the town of Frešherod. Jhalhemha was in my chamber, and she was blissfully unaware of what was transpiring as he slept. Beshalhen was in Kykherhenha’s chamber, and I sensed that she was nursing.

And the name of Jhar Morněl invaded my mind, and the memory of my parents’ deaths surfaced once again, and I began to fearshiver, and my tail dipped down and wanted to hide between my legs, but it wasn’t very successful because I was walking. Even though I tried hard not to cry the tears came to my eyes, and Kykherhenha felt that, of course, because my thoughts were her thoughts, and my emotions were her emotions.

Somehow, in order to save the Tereskàdians and whistling dragons in that town, I knew I would have to kill again.

Armhachyzh 12.98/Day 379

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Re: Thekherham's Worlds - THIRTY-FOUR

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thekherham on Thu Jul 22, 2010 10:34 pm

I don’t know why it is that sometimes I go long stretches between entries; I don’t really have a good excuse I can come up with, and I’m not even going to try.

So let’s see what’s been happening over the last twenty-one days. But before I do that I want to finish the saga I started way back on Brhe’ălhachyzh 19th (and I just realized that was almost two months ago). As I look back at the previous chapters, I noticed that I have spread out the telling of this event over several chapters. Which means, I suppose, that the event has a great significance in our lives.

As you must realize by now, Krysa Rhona’s predictions can be changed. My family and I, and the Dhoren family, and my brother and his family are all safe and sound, so the question is: Was Krysa Rhona that far off in her predictions? That seems rather unusual, because all of her previous predictions have come true.

Here is the rest of our adventure: When we reached the town of Frešherod, the first thing I did was look up my brother and his family. Temžărhen and Brhenha greeted me warmly. Arhodin and his whistling dragon, Khašhanha, were hovering nearby, but Lhorhan, and Drelha were in Temžărhen’s and ‘Hădholhaj’s chambers respectively.

We had no time for idle chatter. According to Krysa’s prediction, soon after the ‘the sixteen’ rode into town, the destruction of the Tereskàdians and the whistling dragons would begin. It was then that I realized something. It was obvious that Krysa was talking about the bus, when she wrote about a ‘steel and glass conveyance’, but we had already changed that prediction when we left the bus at the side of the road and walked into town. Now, knowing we had changed that prediction, would the next predictions fall by the wayside, or would they still come to pass?

Temžărhen had said that the mayor of Frešherod would be the one responsible for the deaths of Tereskàdians ans whistling dragons. If I could somehow convince this Alharhanian not to murder any Tereskàdians, I could change more of Krysa’s predictions.

Do you realize, Khe’ăr said, that by changing Krysa’s predictions, the remainder of her predictions will have no merit?

Why didn’t someone think of this a long time ago? I asked.

Lheana looked a little worried, and I asked why. What if, she said, by changing something now, you won’t affect one of her future predictions in a negative way? I didn’t know how to answer that, but I sure wasn’t going to let the mayor of Frešherod murder any Tereskàdians.

All the Tereskàdians and whistling dragons were supposed to come to the Town Center, but a few were still holding out because, like Temžărhen, they were suspicious of the mayor’s intentions. I knew it wouldn’t be long before one of the mayor’s men came to check on this house to see if the Tereskàdians and whistling dragons had gone to the Town Center.

We are all going, I said.

We can’t, Rhelhea protested. We’ll all be killed.

I have an idea. Kykherhenha knew what my idea was, but I told her not to tell the other whistling dragons. If I failed we would all be dead; if I succeeded, I would change Krysa Rhona’s prediction once again, and further diminish her credibility.

I’m not going, Brhenha said, and Arhodin stood beside his mother, and clung to her fur.

What are you going to do? Lheana asked, looking at me.

I can’t tell you, I said. You have nothing to worry about. You are Alharhan.

I opened the door, just in time to see three Alharhanians walking toward the house. The one in front demanded to know why we weren’t at the Town Center yet, and I told him I didn’t live here, I was just visiting. He came closer, and studied me, and it made me feel very uncomfortable. He asked me my name, and I told him, and then he wanted to know if anyone else was visiting. I told him, my mate, and cubs, and the Alharhanian family we were staying with in Treskebhar. He leaned closer, and said in a low voice, Leave town now.

I asked him if he had read Krysa Rhona’s book, and he told me he didn’t have time to read. Do you know the mayor of this town plans to murder all the Tereskàdians and whistling dragons? He told me again to leave town, to take my family, and our whistling dragons, and the Alharhanians, and get as far from here as possible. He looked past me, right at Temžărhen, and asked him to bring his family, and accompany him to the Town Center.

Does the mayor abuse Tereskàdians? I asked loudly, loud enough for the other two Alharhanians to hear. So what if he does? the closest one to me said. You are only animals; he can do what he likes.

The Tereskàdian Act states that if any Tereskàdian is abused in any manner whatsoever, the abuser shall be exiled for life on the planet Jhanhekhar. What gives this law teeth is the fact that no one – absolutely no one – is immune. Whether you are a pauper, a successful entrepreneur, a prince, a king, the Lord of all the universe, if you abuse a Tereskàdian, you will pay the penalty.

And the mayor of Frešherod was going to pay a penalty, but not the penalty that was in the law books.

When I told the others I intended to go to the Town Center, Rhalhea held on to my arm and begged me to do what the Alharhanian standing just outside the door had said and leave. Of course I couldn’t do that; I wasn’t about to see my brother’s life end. I would not leave, knowing that he and his family, and all the other Tereskàdians, and whistling dragons, were going to be murdered in cold blood.

I will see the mayor of Frešherod, I said. Everyone in this house will remain here until I return.

The Alharhanian thought about that for a moment, said he would accompany to the Town Center. He quietly told the other two to watch the house, in case the Tereskàdians who lived there were thinking of escaping, but had my hearing turned up, so I had no trouble listening in as he gave the order.

When we reached the Town Center, I noticed an Alharhanian standing on a platform, looking at the Tereskàdians and whistling dragons standing before him. He was tall, a good head taller than me, and his hair was a glistening black. His black beard was neatly trimmed. I thought of Krysa Rhona’s description, and I knew I was looking at the mayor of Frešherod.

Why do you want to murder the Tereskàdians? I shouted, interrupting whatever speech he was making.

He wanted to know who had asked that question, and I stepped forward. He asked my name, and I told him, mentioning Kykherhenha was well. She was standing beside me, and I could feel her trembling slightly.

He denied that he wanted to murder any Tereskàdians, and it was then that all the Tereskàdians standing before him sensed that he was lying. The stench of his lie was so strong that I had to take a few steps back, but I willed myself to move forward, and I approached the platform on which he stood, and climbed up and faced him.

Are you familiar with the Tereskàdian Act? I asked.

In answer, he spit on the ground at my hind paws, and I knew what he thought of the Tereskàdian Act.

It is written in blood, I called out. It is written in the blood of all the Tereskàdians and whistling dragons that have been murdered by Alharhanians. Anyone who disobeys the laws that are in this document must pay the penalty.

I am above the law, he shouted in my face, and I knew I had him. Here was an arrogant Alharhanian who thought he was untouchable, not because he was the mayor of this town, but because he was an Alharhanian, and any law which protected the Tereskàdians was invalid as far as he was concerned.

Why do you want to murder the Tereskàdians? I asked again, and in answer, he picked up a long, needle-thin weapon known as a ptendhach. I had first seen this weapon when I was a cub on Tereskàdhar, and I knew what sort of damage it could do. I saw him looking at the crowd before him, looking left, then right, then straight ahead. He aimed it at one of the Tereskàdians, pressed a small button, and a tiny, almost inaudible hiss told me he had fired it. The Tereskàdian, a young female, crumpled to the ground, and beside her, her whistling dragon, fell over, and lay still.

I may not be the Supreme One, he said, but as far as you’re concerned, animal, I’m the next best thing.

So he thought he was the next best thing to the Creator. Hmm. My mind was working like crazy. I knew that in a few moments this maniac would murder the entire Tereskàdian population of Frešherod, but as long as I could do something about it, I would try my best to prevent that. Krysa Rhona’s prediction had already been changed, and I was determined to change it even further.

I challenge you, I said. If you think you are as good as the Creator... almost as good as the Creator, how confident do you feel about taking on a Tereskàdian? If you win, these Tereskàdians are yours to do with as you wish, but if you lose, you must let them go. They must be allowed to leave town─

And what will happen to me? he interrupted.

You will be dead. I held my breath; it was obvious that he was not much of a reader, but I could not understand why he was not concerned with the poison in my claws.

Or did he know?

Of course he knows, Kykherhenha sent. Everyone knows about the poison in our claws.

He aimed the ptendhach at my belly. Do you think I’m that stupid? You think if I accept your challenge, and fight you, you will not use your claws against me? I am going to do what I came here to do, and there is nothing you can do about it. Now, join the others.

I turned, took a step back, and brushed against him. He spat out a foul curse, and pushed me roughly away from him. I landed on my tail, and my mind suddenly realized that I had been attacked, and there was only one way to resolve it. When he saw me coming at him, he was too stunned to even raise his weapon. His mouth opened wide as he took several steps back. When he reached the edge of the platform he fell backward on to the grass, and tried to crawl away from me. He looked for his aides to help him, but out of the corner of my eyes I could see them, just standing there, watching. This was his moment, and they weren’t going to interfere, especially when an adult Tereskàdian was involved. They knew that if they even so much as touched me while I was in my defensive mode, they would be killed, too.

I wasn't interested in spilling a lot of blood; I had been attacked, and all I needed to do was release the poison into his body. Like anyone who attacks a Tereskàdian, he died instantly. The Tereskàdians and whistling dragons surrounded the body silently, and then went home. The Alharhanians who were part of the mayor’s group, came up to me, and the leader told me they would elect a new mayor, and they would make sure he was tolerant toward the Tereskàdians living in this town.

And on that day, in the town of Frešherod, Krysa Rhona’s prediction was forever changed, and I knew that anything she had written could have been changed, if only those who were affected had taken the time to do it. All it needed was one small change, and everything else would fall apart.

So what does all this prove? That Krysa Rhona’s predictions were not written with blood on stone, that they were only possibilities? What she saw was what she saw; it never meant they were untouchable. I remember the many sessions we had at the University of Treskebhar where, as a student, I joined in the discussions with other students and Thyros Mharhen about Krysa Rhona and her predictions. What if? we had asked. What if somebody could change one of her predictions. And we would leaf through the thick book, and find passages. And we would ask questions, and extrapolate. One group would take the ‘change’ position, and another would take the ‘non-change’ position. Those who did not want change would tell those who did that change would only worsen some things in years to come. I recall one student saying that what we change in the present would affect what happens in the future. Everything is connected, she had said. You can expect Krysa’s future predictions to be affected by what we do in the past. I asked her if we should just leave things as they are; if, for example, the assassination of someone could be prevented, should we just ignore it? But what if, she said, you change that prediction, and, sometime in the future, that Alharhanian, murders a child that was supposed to grow up, and become a great leader of a country? And back and forth, and back and forth it went. There was no final answer, of course, because everything we talked about was mere speculation.

As I put the finishing touches to this day I realized that I have not mentioned what has been happening to my family, and the Dhoren family. It’s just that I wanted to finish the story about Frešherod, and what happened to the mayor who was so set on killing all the Tereskàdians and whistling dragons in that town. One more thing I should mention is that my brother and his family are thinking of moving to Treskebhar, possibly in the spring, which is only a few weeks away.

Rhalhea has come into our room where I have spent the last little while working on this. She stands behind me, and I can hear her purring. She puts her muzzle close to my cheek, and I can feel her whiskers, and her tongue, as she licks my cheek, and my ear, and increases the volume of her purrs.

I know what she has in mind, and I’m not going to keep her waiting.

N’herhachyzh 8.98/Day 400

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Thekherham
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Re: Thekherham's Worlds - THIRTY-FIVE

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thekherham on Sat Jul 31, 2010 8:58 am

I thought I had better write something now, before the month disappears and we are in a new year. Today is the 10th day of N’herhachyzh and there are only eighteen days left in the year 5698. Now that the tale of the town of Frešherod has been told, I can concentrate on catching up on the news of Thekherham and his family, as well as the Dhoren family.

The entire month of N’herhachyzh is vacation time for all the students, so my cubs and the Dhoren children have been enjoying their time off for the last ten days. On the last day of Armhachyzh all the students at the University of Treskebhar received their report cards, and I am happy to report that those who attend school in this house, passed with sunshine and rainbows. Both Jhorhea and Nykha received excellent marks in all their subjects, but that did not really surprise me, because they are really interested in every aspect of school. T’heril received good marks as well, which surprised me a bit, because I had always thought he viewed school as somewhat of a bother, and attended only because his parents made him. The younger twins, Arhen and Fhenha, did not bring home a report card as much as a sheet filled out by their teacher, noting what they had done during the year, as well as how they behaved. A bit boisterous, the teacher had written about Arhen, but has potential. She called Fhenha a quiet, but hard-working student, and suggested she participate more in class. As for Rheža, my five-year-old cub, she has this tendency to daydream. Her teacher wrote that, ‘Rheža spends quite a bit of time looking out of the classroom window, and it takes some effort to get her back to where she is supposed to be.’ The teacher notes that ‘when they go outside, her whistling dragon, S’horžăm, takes to the air, and it is obvious that he is showing her what he is seeing. Sometimes it is hard to get her attention when it is time to go back to the classroom.’

As for Jhalhemha, today is the last day she is in Rhalhea’s chamber, and then she will be in mine for five days. About six more months, and then she will emerge for the first time.

Khe’ăr has gone to the doctor for another check-up. I didn’t even know he was due for one, but he told me that he didn’t want to take any chances, and besides, his doctor had told him if he wanted a check-up, he could come in for one at any time. As you all know, Khe’ăr has problems with his heart (his dad died of a heart condition when he was forty-two), but he has followed a strict regimen of diet, and medicine, and so far, his health has been relatively stable. I don’t know if I should say this, but now that he is no longer working as a special agent for the Department of Immigration, that has helped as well.

Lheana has had to put up with everyone at home for almost two weeks, and she is coping with it pretty well. My two cubs and their whistling dragons are spending most of their days outdoors; T’heril is in his room, listening to music, and Nykha is spending time with her friends. Lheana had wanted to get back to making sweaters out of our fur, but that will have to be postponed until the spring, because during winter, Tereskàdians don’t tend to shed a lot. So she spends her time cleaning the house, and straightening out this and that, and talking with Chĕnha Thalen on the videophone. Hmm, I just realized that the Thalen family has not visited in quite a while.

Rhalhea is at home, like the cubs and the Dhoren children, because school is closed. She seems to be a little restless, and that is understandable because she really enjoyed working with the younger children and cubs at school. Now that she is home she spends most of the time looking at the calendar, and drinking from Keridhar. I know she wishes she were back at school, but time does not move any faster just because you wish it to.

As for Thekherham, I am rereading my autobiography again. I have lived this life, and yet I still find it so fascinating. I wonder what it would be like if Mama and Papa had not been murdered. Would Rhalhea and I still be living on Tereskàdhar, or would we be here now, living on this planet, living in the city of Treskebhar? One event can change your whole life, and the lives of others. What if... what if... Right now I am reading about my life as a twelve-year-old. Still a cub, with no poison in my claws. I was taken to the town of Monaran, on Mhačăren, which was as far from home as I wanted to be. I was put up in an auction, and bought by the mayor of Monaran. Her name was Temha Rhuižel, and I was glad she was the one who had bought me, because, despite putting me to work, she treated me well.

I am also working on my weekly column, and I have been submitting it at the appropriate time. My editor, Fefrha dhar Thumher, has increased my payment because, as she says, ‘more Alharhanians and Tereskàdians are reading your column than any other.’ That made me feel really good.

I started something when I wrote about Krysa Rhona and the possibility of changing her predictions. It seems that there are some Alharhanians out there who think that just because my family and I did not let Krysa’s prediction run its course, we have doomed this planet for all eternity. Well, that’s a load of tezuelhan shit, I wrote, (and I did not regret writing that), are we slaves to the writings of an Alharhanian who lived more than a thousand years ago, or do we decide our own destiny? Someone wrote that by changing one prediction that she had made, we could set off a chain reaction. Well, it’s been a few months since the incident at Frešherod, and so far I have not seen any chain, and nothing’s been reacting.

Does that mean I have won? I don’t know yet. Let’s give it a few more years, and then we will see.

As I put the finishing touches to this entry, I notice that everyone is home right now, because outside Orovha is setting, and the evening is upon us. There is a thick coat of snow on the ground, and it looks like it will stay with us for a few more weeks. The traffic on Brežendra Road is very light, which suits us just fine, because when the vehicles come up from Lhažel Street, they turn east on to Brežendra Road. The Dhoren family, and my family, live west of Lhažel Street.

I can sense that Kykherhenha is full of milk, and I tell her that I will be with her shortly. To make sure that I don’t forget about it, she lies down on the floor and shows off her teats. I’m not going to forget about it, I tell her.

N’her. 10.98/Day 402

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Thekherham
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Re: Thekherham's Worlds - THIRTY-SIX

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thekherham on Thu Aug 05, 2010 8:34 pm

As this year near the end, and as I look at this journal, I am amazed at how much I have written. I know that sometimes I have a tendency to get carried away with my writings, but I guess that is just the way I am. I did not attend school until I was a young adult, with a mate, and a cub in the chambers, because when you live in a small village, on an island, on another world, and you survive by hunting for your food, you don’t really need an education. My mama and papa never had an education; Papa spent his time hunting for prey to bring home to the village, and Mama spent her time raising me and my brothers, Temžărhen and Tez’hărhej. Even when I was younger I learned to hunt, not without much success at first, mind you, but the more I did it, the more proficient I became.

But when my brothers and I, and over a hundred other cubs, were taken first from the island of ‘Hănharys to the land called Mhačăren, and then to the planet Alharhan, I learned reading and writing, and I think I was one of the few Tereskàdians who found this entire education system fascinating. Those Tereskàdians who wanted an education were registered at the University of Treskebhar, in central Treskebhar, which is the largest city in a country called Te’hănys, and my current home. Now, the University of Treskebhar, where I was educated, and where I occasionally work, is a huge complex of different buildings, where Alharhanian children and Tereskàdian cubs, ranging in age from five to twenty-five, are educated. When Rhalhea and I first went there, we found it unnerving to sit with much younger students to learn the rudiments of reading and writing. Needless to say, many Alharhanians, both students and teachers, said we had no business there, and of course they used the old phrase, ‘but they’re just animals’, to back up their arguments.

I am composing this journal entry at the library, where Kykherhenha and I have taken refuge from too many children and too many cubs. I told Rhalhea I just had to get away for a while, and not to contact me via our whistling dragons unless it was an emergency. It is mid-afternoon here, and there are only a few Alharhanians using the library. I am facing a large picture window, and the picture it is showing me is a light snowfall. Jhalhemha is stirring in my chamber, and if I know my daughter, she is going to take nourishment from my teat shortly.

I have titled my journal Thekherham’s Worlds, which is supposed to refer to Alharhan and Tereskàdhar, but most of the time I write about Alharhan because that is where I now live. Tereskàdhar has been pushed into the background, into memories that I bring up once in a while. I mention it when the need arises, but the here and now is the planet Alharhan, and the city of Treskebhar. Sometimes I wonder if I should just forget it because it has brouhgt me so many bad memories, memories that want to make me cry whenever I think about them. Sexually abused at four by an Alharhanian who called herself the Queen of ‘Hănharys, taken to Mhačăren at age 12, and bought for 130 L’hŏr by the then-mayor of Monaran, the major city (town, if you prefer) on Mhačăren, thrown off a plane over the ocean to fend for myself against two formidable sea predators, the cheperhaun and the kilirid, watching the rape of my mother, and the death of her and my father at the hands of Jhar Morněl... Need I go on?

And yet... and yet, one of university instructors, Thyros Mharen, who taught Tereskàdianology at the university once said, You cannot face the future if you know nothing of the past. But how much pain must the past hold? How much do I have to keep inside in order for me to see the future? Both Jhorhea and Rheža have asked me what it was like on Tereskàdhar, and I have been reluctant to give them the full details of my early life. Yes, they were born on Tereskàdhar, because Rhalhea and I had agreed that all three of our cubs would be conceived and born on that planet.

Lheana once asked me if I would ever want to go back to Tereskàdhar to live. Whenever summer comes to Treskebhar, and the days are hot and humid, and you spent most of the time panting because there is no relief in sight, except for maybe the northern part of Te’hănys, then I think of Tereskàdhar, and the possibility that yes, I might want to go back there to live. Jhar Morněl is dead now, and the current government is stable, and the Tereskàdians, who are now totally protected, are, for the most part, being treated with respect.

But I need a lot of time to think about it.

N’her. 15.98/Day 407

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Thekherham
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Re: Thekherham's Worlds - THIRTY-SEVEN

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Thekherham on Thu Aug 12, 2010 9:26 pm

Eight more days of 5698, eight more days of vacation for the cubs and the children, and then a new year will begin. The Alharhanians are looking forward to the change, but Tereskàdians like me take it all in stride. I find it amusing that many Alharhanians complain that 420 days in the year are really long, but that’s how long it takes for Alharhan to orbit Orovha. Hey, all you complainers, if you think that’s too long, try 600 days for Tereskàdhar to make its journy around Orovha in one year.

I’m going to see if I can keep this journal entry short, because Rhalhea and I have something planned for the afternoon. Right now, Kykherhenha is sitting beside me, and I can feel her chuckling in my head, becaue she doesn’t believe I can post a brief entry. Maybe I’ll put all my thoughts in one paragraph, I said.

One long paragraph? she sent.

All right, here is the latest weather report: Cold, cold, cold. Hurrah! Lheana doesn’t like it, says she can’t wait for spring. Arhen and Fhenha don’t mind it; they wear something warm, and go out to play with Rheža. The older twins, Nykha and T’heril, and my daughter Jhorhea, have spent most of their vacation time visiting friends, and hanging out at the Albrhaj-Thoŵhazh Shopping Center. They are supposed to clean their rooms before the new year, and before school starts again, but somehow it always gets postponed. Khe’ăr is dividing his time betweeen home and the Department of Immigration, where he has been made an Executive in Charge of New Personnel. When I asked him what that meant, he gets he gets to boss new employees, telling them where to go and what to do. I guess as long as it doesn’t involve any strenuous work, his heart should be all right. Lheana does most of the housework, although Rhalhea tries to help as much as possible. As for me, I’m working on several projects other than this journal. ‘Life through my Eyes’, my weekly column is still going strong, and I’m making a few more notes for the sequel to my autobiography. I have even attempted to write a poem, twenty lines, that I don’t even want Kykherhenha to know about, but of course she knows exactly what I thought when I wrote it, and what I wrote. I told her I would discard it, but she wanted me to just put it aside, and forget about it for about a week or so. Will that make it better? I asked. Maybe not, but you’ll be looking at it with fresh eyes. I wasn’t so sure about that.

A long paragraph, Kykherhena says. She is thinking that when I start to write something, I tend to go one and on, and of course I can read her thoughts. That’s the way I am, I think. And you don’t want to change, she says. Well, I think, I am writing about my life, about the life of all Tereskàdians and whistling dragons in general.

N’her. 20.98/Day 412

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