Betrayal of Eralavict: Episode 4: Kharver Dip, p.1DhNAi Divine / Fantasy
Betrayal of Eralavict
By DhNAi Divine
Copyright 2017 DhNAi Divine.
Who ready for some fun?! Ooh, ooh, I am! Me, me! After about a week away from home, I finally went back. I only stayed with Drei for a couple days, until I had to slide on up out a there.
I'm feelin' him an' all, but no need for either of us to get comfortable in domestic, okay? When I left him, I ain't have the proper mind to go back home just yet. When I finally got there though—I was in for a world of surprise. First thing on delivery was a flaming hot package, deep from the fiery bowels of the underworld. My folks went in on me!
Lecturing me to sleep, then back awoke again. I think I saw my dad morph into like 5 demons over the course of said lecture. That wasn't the surprise...the lecture was usually the opening act to the main event. The surprise; when it was all said and done that was it! No punishment, no hands laid, no extra lecture.
Nothing. Zip. Zero. Goodnight. That's all.
I swear I sat in the living room for a good hour (at least that's what it felt like) with my mouth dropped, face twisted to the 9th dimension. Like, huh? You know, I had to take advantage of this rare celestial opportunity. My parents musta felt bad about that dinner or somethin'. I don't know and at this point I surely don't care.
All I know fa sho, it's time to plot. 'Cause see, me and FaiCita got some plans in the works. And if I, Kheznaria, want clearance from the parents to go, I must butter them up. Butter them, before I bake them. Yes.
My hands rub together. No silly, of course I'm not asking them if I can leave for mischief with the girls. There's always a proper and even honest cover darling. Neimala's folks invited us on the Wave, the Spiritual Wave. It's a gathering for those who wanna get close to the essence and it's movement the flow.
That sounds cool, but it can always get better. And it did once the book from Patrice's shop was consulted. There's a nice spot 'round where the gathering is happening. It goes down in two months time. So, I got 8 weeks to butter, season, sweeten, then fry my parents up.
First on the list shall be father. He was working on the fence in the backyard, some bad snots broke the fence door, so me being the thoughtful daughter that I am opt to fix his favorite drink. I saunter in the kitchen, placing the cold pitcher of water on the counter, searching the cabinets for the container with that blue powder, once that was found I went back to the fridge. I snatch the bowl of diced blue watermelon instead of red right out. I whip that shit like bam.
Gave it a love blessing, then left for the backyard. I spot my dad trying to cool down under one of the fruit trees in the backyard. Yes, a chuckle is released under my breath. He was failing horribly at the task. My drink is right on time.
I smile lovingly upon dear father, greeting, “Hey dad.” My dad's eyes open, looking up at me from the grass, side eye apparent. I respond to it, “What? I'm just tryna be nice. I don't want you to pass out in this sun,” I gesture to the hot thing in the sky. “Or melt—you know Yays have been known to melt.”
He gives me a look. “In what history?”
I shrug. “I don't know. I'm just reporting the rumors. Just in cast it's true—I did somethin' to prevent it.”
He gets the drink from me, taking a sip. I wait with the pressure of heavy winds on my heart for his reaction. When he closes his eyes and tip his head toward the sky, I knew my job was complete for the moment.
“It's righteous,” Dad said, holding up the blue melon concoction. “Since you in such a good mood—you wanna come out to Bohltu Fields? Help out like you use to.”
I squeal. “I'll be ready in 2.5 seconds pops!”