When Tharhedhal told us that Alharhan and Tereskàdhar would be no more, I wondered how he could have said it with such sincerity that it made me shudder. We Tereskàdians cannot lie, but that does not necessarily mean everything we say is the absolute truth. Tharhedhal believed what he was saying was the truth, but it was his personal truth. There are many Alharhanians who believe that Krysa Rhona ended The Ap’hăkharys just because she felt like it, and yet here was a Tereskàdian who was telling me that Alharhanians and Tereskàdians, and every living thing on these two planets, had only a limited amount of time to live.

Swimming was the furthest thing from my mind right now, but I asked Rhalhea through our whistling dragons if she wanted to go swimming, and all she sent back was ‘No.’ The cubs began to protest when I told them we would be going back to our own cabin, but hushed up quickly when I told them, via our whistling dragons, not to make a scene.

From what I remember of The Ap’hăkharys there is nothing in the final section to indicate that our worlds will end on a particular date. What puzzles me is that Tharhedhal mentioned that date with such conviction, it would be hard to believe anything but the destruction of two planets was going to take place. And yet… and yet… The Orovhian system has been in existence for millions of years, and surely, it will continue to be in existence for millions more.

When somebody tells you something like this it tends to stick in your mind, and no matter how hard you try you can’t get rid of it. Even if it were true, what can we, the Tereskàdians do about it. While the Alharhanians have achieved space flight, they have so far only explored the Orovhian system. And even if we were to fly beyond the boundaries of Orovha’s planets, where would we go? And who would go? Would it be both the Alharhanians and Tereskàdians?

Kykherhenha wants to know why I would be thinking of questions like that when there is no proof except the prophecies of a girl who died more than a thousand years ago. And the prophecies have been proven false, at least in the Frešherod incident.

During the past sixteen days, I have been unable to sleep. Sure, I’ve curled up in the usual sleeping position, with my tail covering my face, but sleep has evaded me. This has affected Kykherhenha, who has been rather grumbly lately, and I don’t blame her.

Two days ago we ate at the Captain’s table. Rhalhea had told me to forget about The Ap’hăkharys and what Tharhedhal had told us, but halfway into the meal I asked Captain Lhuâdel if he was familiar with the last portion of The Ap’hăkharys. I asked him if he knew about Tharhedhal and his declaration that Alharhan and Tereskàdhar would soon be destroyed.

He laughed, which I found rather disturbing because I did not see anything amusing in what I had just told him. Do you know how many Alharhanians have predicted that either one planet, or even both, are going to be destroyed in 5700? I didn’t know if I was supposed to answer that, so I didn’t say anything. A large natural object, he continued. Aliens from outer space… some kind of quake that will rip our planets apart… you name it, they’ve predicted it. Do you know that Alharhanians have been predicting death and destruction of Alharhan and Tereskàdhar every thousand years? And look at us, here we are, still alive, still breathing.

Rhalhea glared at me, told me through our whistling dragons that she did not want to hear anymore, or she would leave the table. So I fell silent rather silently, and concentrated on my meal. I had Jhalhemha in my pouch, and she ventured out to take nourishment from my chest teats. I wondered how much longer she would be in the pouches before she came out permanently.

According to Captain Lhuâdel there are twenty two more Tereskàdian days left before we land at the spaceport on Jinhas. I promised Rhalhea that during those twenty-two days I would not see Tharhedhal and Sin’hărha, and that I would not go up to the deck where he lived. And what if I want to go swimming? I asked. She wanted me to use one of those unnatural pools on the other decks, but I was not about to do that.

It is now late at night, and I am staring at what I have just written. And this crazy thought creeps into my mind, a thought that shatters me so much Kykherhenha butts her head against my shoulder and tells me I should get that thought out of my head immediately. The thought of only Alharhan being destroyed, and Tereskàdhar being spared sits like the weight of this spaceship on my mind.
The thought that the Supreme One would punish all those Alharhanians who enslaved and raped and murdered so many Tereskàdians settles in my mind and will not leave. I try to get rid of it by reading previous entries of my journal, but that doesn’t help.

I don’t know why I am thinking of this. Tharhedhal had said that both Alharhan and Tereskàdhar would be destroyed next year. Why Tereskàdhar? What have we Tereskàdians done to deserve this fate?

Stop it, please, Kykherhenha says. Tharhedhal cannot see the future. When the day comes, you and I, and all the Tereskàdians and the whistling dragons, and the Alharhanians will still be here.

Then why do I have this strange feeling running through my body?

Pešhophashanhashen 12.489/Day 411

By the time a Tereskàdian is twelve years old, he or she will have found a mate, and they will be blood-bonded, linked from the moment the phaûphan vine encircles the wrists of both until death claims one and then the other. It is very rare that a Tereskàdian will not have found a mate by the time he or she has reached sexual maturity, but standing before me was a Tereskàdian who was sixteen years old, but who had not yet found a mate, had not been blood-bonded, and, judging by his appearance, had no wish to do so.

The last time I saw him I remember this scrawny looking cub with the tangled fur. Even at that time I thought that this cub did not know how to take care of himself, and it looked like he still had not learned. I asked him what had happened in the ten years that had passed since I last saw him, and he told me that after I took him out of that hospital in Treskebhar he stayed with a middle-aged Alharhanian couple that was decidedly anti-Tereskàdian. Rhalhea was appalled; she said that if she found out a guardian was an anti-Tereskàdian she would have left immediately. I was only seven years old, Tharhedhal said. Where could I go?

He told us that he finally did leave the home after years of verbal and psychological abuse. They did not abuse him physically, of course, because they knew what would happen. A cub may not have the poison in his claws, but an Alharhanian would think twice about tangling with one. Tharhedhal told us that on several occasions the male Alharhanian tried to beat him, but Tharhedhal used his claws and inflicted serious wounds on the Alharhanian’s hands and arms.

I didn’t want to hear any more about the past, so I asked him what he was doing on the ship, and why he did not have a mate yet. He did not say anything for what seemed like a long time, then he said Captain Lhuâdel knew about him. I told him I wanted to stay right here, he said, and no one should know about me. This entire deck is off limits to anyone but the Captain and a few personnel who have been sworn to secrecy.

If I had been already confused, I was thoroughly bewildered now. Apparently Tharhedhal was aboard this ship with the Captain’s blessing, but that still did not explain what he was doing aboard. And he still had not given me an answer as to why he did not yet have a mate.

He led us out of the room, down the hallway to another door which slid open silently. This is my room, he said, stepping aside to let us in.

To say that this was just a room was certainly an understatement. If I had to compare it to something I would say it was three times as large as the Dhoren living room. I noticed the upholstered chairs, a couch big enough to seat five, a table with eight chairs set around it, cupboards, and cabinets, a double sink, and a long counter that looked like it was large enough for me to lie on, with plenty of room left over. As I looked at everything I still did not understand. How could this scraggly-furred Tereskàdian live in such luxury while Rhalhea and I, and our three cubs, and the whistling dragons, lived in a mere cabin that was just barely large enough to serve its purpose?

Have you read The Ap’hăkharys? he asked. Of course we had, but how was that book an answer to my questions. When I asked him again why he did not have a mate, he said that he had more important things to do. Right now, he said, a mate is so far removed from my mind I don’t even think about it. When I asked him what The Ap’hăkharys has to do with all this, he said I may have read it, but I either did not deem the predictions important, or I had forgotten what she had written. I had to confess that it had been a few years since I had read it.

If you remember, he said, Krysa Rhona’s predictions end in the year 5700. The precise date has been determined to be the eighth of Mharhachyzh. There is a good reason for that date. Rhalhea and I looked at each other, neither one of us wanting to think of the impossible. I thought back to the time when we went to Frešherod to visit my brother and his family, only to find out that Krysa Rhona had predicted all the Tereskàdians in the town would be killed, including any visitors. But that did not happen because I was determined not to let it happen. The future is not set in stone, I decided, and so it can be changed.

On the eighth of Mharhachyzh 5700, Tharhedhal said, the worlds of Alharhan and Tereskàdhar will cease to exist.

Pešhŏrh. 295.489/Day 395