Page 65 of I Married A Syllen

They happily chatted about various things, a lot of it regarding what needed repair or replacement around their villages while adding the ingredients to the shells in stages. Occasionally, they would close the lids to let it simmer for a couple of minutes before adding more goodies. The aroma had me salivating something fierce.

The Syllens brought wide leaves that they shaped into bowls. And barely twenty minutes after they started preparing the meal, the Thesh opened their shells and cut the meat inside into even portions. Then one by one, we filed to the closest Thesh, regardless of tribe, to have our leaf bowl filled with the aromatic stew.

The female who had told me to just watch this time—who happened to be a farmer named Ressa—brought utensils and a basket of bread. Or rather, what I wrongfully assumed to be thin slices of whole wheat bread. It turned out to be some sort of starchy vegetable, sliced thin, and dried to eat almost like a cracker.

Once again, my taste buds were having an orgasm as I wolfed down the food.

It felt utterly surreal to be sitting among the Syllens, sharing a meal, as they teased each other and made jokes.

To my surprise, just like when Taelen and I ate by the river, small animals started coming out of the woodwork. Some just stayed at a distance, semi hidden by bushes. A few bolder ones marched right up to the table, just lying there like a pet would. It blew my mind how unafraid they acted, not to mention how well-behaved!

I would have expected them to try to climb on top of the table or pull on one of the leaf-bowls to snag some food. But nope, they waited patiently. Some tribe members tossed them a bit of food, but most either completely ignored them, or merely petted them.

One such creature decided to break those rules and hopped onto the table next to me. It looked like a lizard made of leaves. It tilted its head this way and that as it observed me with big, bulging eyes vaguely reminiscent of a chameleon.

“Don’t be scared, my mate,” Taelen said pre-emptively. “It’s just curious about you.”

Just as I was about to respond that I wasn’t scared, the leafy lizard leapt impossibly high, landing on my shoulder. My startled gasp turned into a giggle when it started swiping its paw at my hair the way a cat would at anything dangling in front of it.

“Aren’t you a cutie,” I said in Syllen.

My companions chuckled, and Orian gently corrected my pronunciation and grammar. I repeated it the right way, earning me a nod of approval.

“Are they domesticated?” I asked.

Taelen recoiled.

“No, not at all. They just live nearby and come for our scraps, when we’re done,” he replied as if it was self-evident.

“They’re really not afraid,” I whispered, blown away.

“Why would they be?” Athusa asked with genuine surprise. “We’re all the children of the Great Mother. This world is one living entity. We’re just one element of it. Every part is needed for Mazeria to thrive and stay healthy.”

And as they finished their meals, each Syllen tore their empty bowls into two or three pieces that they split among the creatures who ventured nearby. To my surprise, they didn’t use the gooey substance inside the top of the gourds Taelen had used to soften the giant ‘turtle’ shells. They ate the small amount of food remaining before washing the shells and bringing them to one of the buildings.

“The artisans will have many uses for them,” Taelen explained in response to my intrigued expression.

With everything put away and the pit closed, the Syllens gathered again around the pit and began singing. An endless string of shivers coursed through me at the haunting melody. They were singing in perfect harmony. The leafy lizard—who had apparently claimed my shoulder as its new permanent habitat—started emitting a little vibrating sound that worked flawlessly with their chant.

All around us, even more animals came to listen. As the sun was setting on the horizon, small fireflies—or at least the Mazeria version of them—gathered over our heads. They danced as if in a choreography designed specifically to follow the melody. Had I not known better, I would have mistaken them for tiny drones.

Taelen paused for a second to look at me with such peace and happiness that it felt almost like a living entity wrapping me in a warm and comfy blanket.

“We’re reintroducing ourselves to the land, reacquainting the flora and fauna with our voices,” he whispered, before caressing my cheek. “You’re now of this world, too, my Mirella. Even he claims you.”

He caressed the head of the little lizard on my shoulder then once more joined his voice to the others.

I couldn’t say how long it lasted, whether minutes or hours. I could have listened forever. When their voices slowly faded, I felt oddly bereft.

“Come, Vakelia. Since you have stolen the last rays of the sun with your strands, I will show you where you and your mate may sleep this night,” Athusa said mockingly.

We all laughed, and I mumbled a playful apology.

He led us to the guest building. Contrary to Taelen’s dwelling, which was carved into the mountain face, this was a free-standing building containing many individual rooms with windows. The other Galnir Tribe members each selected a different room in the building. To my shock, a couple of people from both tribes chose to sleep outside, which was apparently not uncommon for them.

Although we didn’t have a private bathroom, the other guests used one of the other three bathrooms in the building, closer to the rooms they had chosen. It suited me perfectly as I washed my underwear and hung it to dry at the edge of the sink. I returned to the bedroom, naked, only to find it empty. Disappointed, I climbed into bed. A few minutes later, the shuffling sound of Taelen’s footsteps reached me through the door.

“That is a very tiny piece of fabric you have hanging on the sink,” Taelen said teasingly as he entered the room. “But fear not, I made sure not to wet it further when I showered.”