11. Yuma Family Secrets

Yuma Family Secrets

Hiro

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The circle of life and natural order says we’re all supposed to pair off and have kids. Still, finding someone I can deal with—let alone someone who can deal with my crazy ass—doesn’t even scratch the surface of the trust and nature it takes to be a part of the Yuma clan.

The girl has to be as patient as she is honest, as gentle as she is firm, as kind as she is courageous, and... insane. Yep, to deal with any of this, you have to be a straight-up lunatic.

Living between two cultures who would rather piss at the sight of the other than share a meal—not to mention the extended family of my obligatory cousins being as bad, on some levels, as the she-devil that is my eldest cousin always dropping in.

The level of drinking and gambling that happens when the crazy fuckers get together on their own... added to team obligations and not pissing Mom off so the Divide doesn’t burn down in one of her temper tantrums—not to mention I’m a thing that isn’t supposed to exist any more than she is.

Even if someone can get past my ‘phantoms’ and deal with how dominant, insatiable, and controlling Hunters are—according to Dad.

Even if someone can get past my ‘phantoms’ and deal with how dominant, insatiable, and controlling Hunters are—according to Dad. That particular Yuma family secret, being why I should have come to him, rather than considering the Falls in the first place.

The abrupt, if not jolting announcement that we’re leaving for our annual trip early, has us moving dangerously close to set, which I don’t think I’d dare with anyone other than him.

From our current vantage point, I can see the Wall we’d climbed in the distance. Impossible to miss the thousand-foot-tall, five-hundred-foot-thick monstrosity that divides the Steep from the Valley. It spans the entire northern border of the Isle, parallel to the Blue Mountains.

Though it was created in the old world, there are very few chinks in the armor meant to keep the Devils in if all else fails. The only breach sits close to the center. Where I imagine the portal is, given how the old ones were obsessed with cardinal points and balance.

Sure, the internal borders of the Earth, Air, Fire, and Water Nations have shifted through the ages. But the natural boundaries—the landmarks of the old gods—remain. Beyond each capital, there are deterrents. Built boundaries to keep people from wandering toward the true Barrier. The Vale.

The Vale that encloses our world. Protects and hides it. The Blue Mountains of the North. The Blood Cliffs of the East. The Black Bay of the West. The Dark Forest of the South. And the Wall that divides the Steep from the Valley.

All centered by the Mainland’s portal—bringing tech and propaganda with every pass. We’re the furthest region, so we’re the last to see it. Know it. Understand it. Too often confused with the blue peaks themselves, people believe this is a dead zone. A null space where even crystal tech won’t spark.

Probably for the best.

I take a deep breath of wild air before I tap into the energy I’ve stored for occasions like this. It’s not often I feel the need to use it, but the thickness in my throat only gets slicker with the phantom taste I’m trying to forget.

The low peaks or base of the Steep, is where my Uncle’s people gather in the Frost. Not even the gods themselves stay on the Mountain when Frost sets in. The entire structure is a block of ice, during those courses. If not for the cold, or them not knowing what running water, let alone a bed is, I might consider travelling with them more like my father does.

With his people, was the one place I didn’t feel alienated. Segregated. To the Stepans it comes down to strength, honor, and loyalty. In that order. In their minds you can’t learn honor unless you survive, and you can’t be loyal unless there is something you believe in.

To them, the annual rites and celebrations they recognize have nothing to do with ribbons. Just blood. Their idea of a popularity contest is how many devil heads you can add to the evening campfire. Being that they walk with the old gods, who helped teach the first generation of Shin; some tests are remarkably similar.

In a classroom, you have back-up, practice. Not to mention we get a hundred years, to push our bodies and wells to and through their limits. The old gods knew that the further we pushed our minds, our muscles, and the sacred well responsible for our spiritual essence the more they would grow.

Why all Shin commit to that sort of regimen in Learning.

Difference being come Growth, you’re on your own. No back-up. No security blanket. You start a fight, you finish it period. I’d like to pretend that the statistics are better, that more than half of the Stepans make it to their Consenting and Naming annuals. But it would be a lie.

The reason their laws are so severe, is correlated with how unforgiving their world is.

Being Shin as much as my father’s son, allowed me to earn my marks. The symbols they ink into younglings skin for hunting, tracking, warring, and other essential passages. At the time, I joined them for Lunamin, I had no idea what my father intended. Until that point, I’d been with them during the Ember Hunt, when the Tribes would have free rein of our lands to prepare and stock for the Frost.

Honestly, I wondered if I wouldn’t be beheaded when a blue-eyed Stepan found her way to my lap during the evening fire. My sweat was chilling in the dry night air. Those scents of smoke and roasting meats, mixed with the hungers that I’d well-earned.

My muscles. My damn bones ached with the effort and energy expended. A time I used up all my reserves, in effort to prove myself to them. The pit in my stomach from an appetite all but consuming, shifted with the still flowing adrenaline as I felt her legs straddle mine.

As much mental as it was physical. Knowing that there was nothing beneath Sima’s skirt. I could see the peaks of her cream thighs above the chaps that covered her legs. Feel every stroke of the soft leather to her dryer skin. It was like every cell and response was linked.

Not being able to help the reflex and rise of the grown appendage that wouldn’t leave me alone. Feeling like it lodged in my throat rather than outside of my body when she licked her lips and shifted against it.

I’d reached Consent the previous annual. Had gone to the Falls where I was lesser known, believing that since I was of age, all the red tape and nonsense of ‘romance’ and ‘dating’ would be as undone for females there as it had for me.

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12: Hiro - Stepans and Shin