Blood Rite part 1

A Tales of Tuomi short story

Jan 27, 2023

While this is another Tales of Tuomi story, there is no need to read Homeward first (although you are more than welcome to do so). These tales will all be standalone stories set in different parts of the same world giving readers a tour of life on Tuomi. I do plan to illustrate this story like I did Homeward, but time is a bit crunched to get them done while also working on the story this go round. I’ll include them in an art post when they’re done and then edit them into the story.

Swift and silent, a carefully honed predator. At least, she tried to be, but her loudly gurgling stomach refused to follow her lessons. She let out a snarl of frustration as her prey darted off at the noise and her claws dug into the coral she was crouched behind, heedless of the way it sliced into her skin.

“You’ll not attract suitable prey with your blood, pup,” a deep voice chided behind her. Looking down, she noticed the small streams of blood rising from her hands.

“How am I to fill my stomach if it keeps chasing off prey?” she groused rhetorically. The voice behind her chuckled and a large clawed hand touched her shoulder.

“As with all things,” the voice assured her, “with practice.” She sighed and looked up at him. Her sire still looked in his prime, his ebony hair only just showing signs of gray. His lean form rippled with powerful muscles though thin white scars littered his chest and striped tail. One scar was far thicker and cut a jagged gash beside his white-tipped dorsal fin. She had heard the story behind it dozens of times, his near fatal run-in with the creatures by the violent water.

All were told since puphood to avoid the area with the strange clusters of hardened bubbles and constantly churning water, though she had occasionally spied the creatures in their small moving bubbles while hunting. They were strangely fascinating to watch and she would often find herself stalking them out of sheer curiosity. One in particular, at least she noticed the bubble had distinct markings on it, was especially intriguing. It often ventured off in a direction most of the others avoided and she got the impression it was sneaking off when it did.

“You may practice until the waters dim,” her sire allowed, “but stay away from…”

“The bubbles,” she finished for him, “you don’t need to say it anymore. I’ll no longer be a pup in a few days.” He chuckled again and tousled her dark red hair. She got the color from her dam, though hers had since become streaked with gray.

“You’ll always be a pup to me Morna,” he replied, as he often did now that her blood rite was approaching. He left her to her hunting, his gray blue form cutting silently through the water. She watched him until she could no longer see the white tip of his caudal fin then turned her attention back to the kelp meadow. It had seemed the perfect opportunity, a group of docile grazers munching away lazily on the seaweed, but her luck had foiled her yet again.

She left the meadow, swimming with no real destination as her mind wandered. She knew she was different, flawed. While her dark red hair was unusual for her kind it was not unheard of. It was the rest of her coloring that was truly unique. Most of her kind were like her sire, a soft gray to gray blue that blended well in the water, their various stripes adding to the camouflage. She however stood out in the worst way, her coloring a soft peach on her upper half that shifted to an eye-catching crimson with golden stripes. It had led to many years of insults, but worst of all made her an abysmal hunter.

Hunting prowess was the way status was dictated. Each pup was trained extensively from birth and was expected to master the blood rite as they entered adulthood. From there, the most daring and successful hunters moved up in rank. Both her sire and dam were high ranking hunters so for them to have such a failure for a pup was a huge embarrassment.

Embarrassment and failure, that was what she was. It didn’t matter she had no say in her coloring, she was expected to still hunt as well as any other, and she tried. Her luck had other ideas though. It could be a chance shift in the light or a grumble from her stomach, but for whatever reason, her luck was always against her succeeding in a hunt. Her luck was so against her she had never made a successful kill, not a single one.

Morna pulled herself from her depressing thoughts and took in her surroundings. Coral stretched below her, colorful fish darting and diving along amongst the rocky expanse. She knew this bed, its denizens as close to friends as she was likely to ever have. She found her usual spot, a small stretch of smooth rock the coral seemed to avoid. She pulled herself in line and let her buoyancy drop, her tail resting on the silky surface. Tiny shrimp and fish came scurrying out from the creavasses in the surrounding coral and set to work. Morna sighed and let the tiny creatures crawl through her hair and along her skin, cleaning away debris and dead skin with efficiency. She had stumbled upon this spot when she was young, fleeing the cruelty of the other pups. She had thrown herself onto the rock to cry in private and had startled when they had first climbed over her. Her visits here allowed her to avoid the community sand baths which helped her avoid the taunts and jeers of her peers.

A fluttering noise drew her attention, though it did not startle her. It had the first time, but she recognized it now and felt no fear though her sire would chastise her for it if he knew. She watched the strange orb as it fluttered along below her, the coral bed hiding her from its view. It was the same one she’d grown familiar with, its strange markings seemingly designed for easy identification. It made its way along, heading off as it often did. Sneaking away, she often suspected, perhaps to avoid taunts like she did. She followed, keeping to the raised coral bed as she usually did.

The small orb left an easy trail of bubbles to follow in addition to the soft whirring of its fins. Morna trailed after it until it arrived at the giant kelp forest. It pushed through the thick strands of red and green, a strange glow appearing in front of it. She watched it disappear as it had countless times. She knew it was dangerous to follow, the kelp making it difficult to keep track of danger and prey. She had always turned back at this point, heeding her sire’s stories of the viciousness of the creatures that lived in the bubbles.

Today though, something drove her forward into the kelp. She swam cautiously, listening intently for the whir of the bubble. She noticed the strands thinning and the whirr grow louder. It had reached open water, she guessed, and soon she would too. She waited until it was further off before continuing. Her guess was correct and she soon hit the end of the kelp forest. She saw the bubble make its way across the open expanse to a wall of rock, a jagged fissure lit by the strange glow of the bubble. It entered the opening and she noticed it seemed to barely fit.

Glancing about to make sure her bright coloring wouldn’t be seen by any predators, she swam to the fissure, her powerful tail muscles whipping her quickly forward. She entered the opening, her ears straining to catch the whir. All was silent as she slipped quietly onward. The tunnel opened into a cavern and Morna saw the bubble. Half of it at least, for the water’s surface was suddenly much closer. It was still and quiet and she suspected the creature was no longer inside. She debated breaching the surface, but decided the risk of discovery was too great.

She headed back across the open water and was soon at her familiar coral bed. The water was beginning to dim so she hurried home as she was instructed. Her lack of success would be no surprise and a part of her winced at the thought. Her curiosity with the creature in the bubble was not helping her status as a hunter, but she could not seem to help herself. Something was definitely different about the creature she followed and she felt an odd kinship with it.

The evening meal came and went with the usual attempts at encouragement though she could tell it was strained after so many years. She bid them good night and headed to her resting alcove. A soft steady current flowed in her alcove, allowing her to still breathe with her gills as she slept. Her thoughts were a jumble, making sleep as elusive as prey typically was for her.

The creature had gone onto the surface, exiting its bubble. She wondered at that, her mind trying to puzzle out the mysterious reason. She had never known the creatures to leave the bubbles, only seeing them venture out into the water in their moving bubbles. This one had ventured out, but only above the surface of the water. She wondered if the water was somehow toxic to them even though they seemed insistent to dwell in bubbles surrounded by it.

Morning came and Morna felt reluctant to start her day. She had spent far too much of her resting time pondering the creature, her thoughts looping around in circles at the large chunks of unknown. They knew so little about the creatures, yet all claimed they were dangerous, many sporting scars like her sire and armed with harrowing tales of near death.

Why was a question she had often asked when she had first heard the tales. Her sire had been the only one to take her question seriously though he counseled her to keep it to herself around others. They were a proud people he had told her and such questions undermined that pride. She had listened, focusing her questions on him until she had him exasperated. Still, he had reluctantly admitted that misunderstanding could have been the reason he was gravely injured instead of any true aggression on the creatures’ part.

Then, she had noticed the wanderer. A creature that ventured off on its own much like she did. Now that she had discovered its destination she was left with even more questions. Shaking her head she left her alcove, determined to put the creature and questions aside for today. She had two days until her blood rite and she needed all the practice she could get.

Continue Reading: Part 2

Who wants to share their thoughts on what creature our dear Morna is? I’ll get to drawing her eventually, but I’d love to hear your guesses and opinions.

Elly’s Mystified Fluff

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