We had to be at the spaceport in Jinhas very early because the spaceship was going to leave orbit by the time the sun broke over the horizon on ‘Hănharys. That meant, of course, that none of us got much sleep. But it was worth it, because I wasn’t going to miss the trip back to Alharhan. Tereskàdhar may have been fine for a short visit, but I had no intention of staying here.

I am writing this from our third-deck cabin which seems to be quite a bit larger than the one we had on the journey to Tereskàdhar. The first thing we did when we entered the cabin was flop down on the beds, just long enough to rest our eyes. A few minutes later, one of the stewards came in and asked us if everything was satisfactory. I told him we hadn’t been in here long enough to make any judgments about the cabin, but if he gave us a few hours, we would give him a satisfactory answer.

I don’t if Tharhedhal is on this ship, but I have no desire to see him, or even speak to him. Even mentioning his name makes me think of the prediction he made about Alharhan and Tereskàdhar. Kykherhenha is angry with me, because writing about him has made me think about him, and my thoughts are her thoughts. He is wrong, she sends. Now stop it, please.

Captain Lhuâdel comes to our cabin shortly after the ship has left orbit, and he wants to know if we enjoyed our stay on Tereskàdhar. Rhalhea says No very bluntly, explaining that so many things had changed on ‘Hănharys that it didn’t even seem like the place where she was born and had grown up. The way she said rather surprised me, although I did agree with her. I tried to imagine what life would have been like if there had been no Jhar Morněl. Much, much different, Kykherhenha said.

Jhorhea wants me to take her swimming, so I will end this journal now.

Pešhŏk. 4.489/Day 536

This will most likely be the last entry I am going to make on this planet because in two days we will be boarding the shuttlecraft that will take us to the spaceship in orbit around Tereskàdhar. Needless to say, both Jhorhea and Rheža are looking forward to leaving this planet. They may have been conceived and born here, but there is nothing here for them. Even Rhalhea and I, after spending much of the last couple of months trying to recapture the past, had to realize that the past no longer mattered. You can’t go home again; Jhar Morněl had seen to that. By trying to change what Krysa Rhona had written about a thousand years ago he had effectively changed the lives of every Tereskàdian and whistling dragon.

So what were we doing these last two and a half weeks? Visiting, talking, reminiscing. The subject of Alharhan came up, and when I told the villagers that I lived in a city with a population of 23,000,000 Alharhanians and Tereskàdians, they could not grasp the concept of such a large number. To them, their world was the small villages on ‘Hănharys, the only place they knew and comprehended. They did not understand the concept of buildings that reached up to the sky, fifteen, twenty, thirty stories high. They asked me if I feared living there, and I told them that when I first arrived in Treskebhar I was afraid, but I was used to it now. I was getting so used to it, that I thought ‘Hănharys was perhaps a bit too quiet. Since I’ve been here I have turned my hearing up to maximum, just to hear some animal rustling in the grasses, or birds chirping in the trees. Now that snow season is here, there is not much to hear. If I were on Alharhan, in Treskebhar, I would hear more noise than I wanted to, and my hearing would be decreased. There is no happy medium.

We returned to the village where Rhalhea and I lived, and decided that we would not spend the night here. I had made arrangements that we would be picked up by bus and taken to Bhakeb where a jetliner would take us across the ocean to Jinhas. We would spend a day there before traveling to the spaceport and boarding the shuttlecraft.

Even though we would be leaving this planet in two days, I was already beginning to have regrets. One part of me wanted to stay here, to live out my life in the village, to hunt like I used to, to watch my cubs grow up and learn the ways of the island, the ways of the forests, but this other part of me… that had no regrets about leaving.

When I drank from Kykherhenha that evening, I tried to suppress those thoughts, but that was impossible, of course.

Pešhŏkelhashen 2.489/Day 534

The leader of the village was named Dhakrholhan, and he was a survivor of the massacre of ten years before when Jhar Morněl and his men had swept through the villages, murdering anyone they could find. He had hidden in the forest with his mate, his three cubs, and about a dozen other Tereskàdians and whistling dragons until the danger had passed.

I felt a surge of anger sweep through my body, and he noticed it immediately. I told him that ten years ago, my mate and I, and about a hundred cubs had come to this village and asked if any of the cubs wanted to come with us, because I would lead them to safety, away from Jhar Morněl. Only a few had decided to come with me, the rest stayed behind to face certain death. How many were killed? I asked. His eyes strayed to the snow-covered ground below our feet, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to say a word, because I knew that, just like my village, those who stayed behind were massacred. Only those who hid in the forest were spared.

Rhalhea placed a paw on my arm, and told me that anger would not bring back those who had been killed. There were many villages, she said, whose inhabitants were murdered. They should have seen the signs, I said. If they had, many more Tereskàdians would still be alive. But I knew that Rhalhea was right. Ten years had passed since the massacre; Jhar Morněl was dead and rotting in his grave, so why should I let my anger get the better of me?

I apologized to Dhakrholhan and he accepted it, although I thought he did it with quite a bit of hesitation. He wanted to know if we had any intention of moving here, but I told him that we were going to return to Alharhan on the 20th of Pešhorhoŵhenhashen. Alharhan, he said, and I thought he made the name of that planet sound rather dirty. I asked him if he had ever been there, and he said he had no intention of going to a planet filled with the beings who had invaded Tere-skàdhar hundreds of years ago.

Kykherhenha knew what I was thinking and she told me if I wanted to remain on Tereskàdhar she was all for it. I had that thought creep into the back of my mind, but of course my whistling dragon, being a part of me, knew exactly what I was thinking. Even though I was born on this planet I felt like I was a citizen of both worlds. Here was the world of my youth, a world of memories, both good and bad, but Alharhan was a planet of the here and now. I had lived there for ten years, and I had made a lot of friends there. Jhorhea and Rheža had friends on Alharhan. Even though all three cubs were conceived and born here, they knew very little of this planet. I have a feeling that right now they are not interested in this planet; their entire lives revolve around Alharhan.

Dhakrholhan invited us to stay for the evening meal, and I had this urge to tell him that we had to get back to my village, but I knew that would not be polite, so I just said thank you, we would love to stay. We met his mate and three cubs, and I noticed that the cubs were almost the same age as mine. The youngest cub had been in Dhakrholhan’s pouch, but she ventured out just long enough to slip into his mate’s pouch.

After the meal, Dhakrholhan’s cubs asked my cubs if they wanted to play, and Jhorhea and Rheža looked at me, but I just shooed them off, telling them to be back here before it got dark. Unfortunately, that did not give them enough time.

Rhalhea was talking with Dhakrholhan’s mate, so he and I wandered out of the village, side by side. I noticed that his tail was waving back and forth lazily, and it seemed that he was deep in thought. Finally he asked me if there was any way he could visit Alharhan. His voice was low and apprehensive, as if he weren’t sure about it. I told him a ship was leaving from the spaceport in Jinhas on Mhačăren in about two weeks, but the meaning of that eluded him, so I just said ‘soon’.

We walked further. He pointed out the area where he and the other Tereskàdians had hidden. It was an area so thick with trees and brush that it seemed as if no sunlight had ever penetrated. What are you thinking about? he asked when I stared into the forest. Something, I said, and left it at that. I didn’t want to tell him that I was thinking about Tharhedhal, and his unusual prediction that both Alharhan and Tereskàdhar would be destroyed in the Alharhanian year 5700. I had no idea why Tharhedhal came into my mind. Here, on Tereskàdhar, I should forget about him, but there are times when you cannot forget what you fear.

Later, that evening, after all the cubs had drifted off to sleep, I sat with Rhalhea in the snow, watching her drink from Keridhar. A few moments before I had satisfied my thirst, and now Kykherhenha and I were exchanging thoughts. She knew I was thinking about Tharhedhal, and she wanted me to forget about him, because he was wrong. He had to be wrong. That’s the way she put it: He had to be wrong. Well, if in some future millennium, explorers from a distant world travel by here, and see the remnants of two planets, then Tharhedhal will have been proven right.

I looked into Kykherhenha’s eyes, because a thought just flashed into my mind. There are seven planets in the Orovhian system. If Alharhan and Tereskàdhar were to be destroyed, what about the other five planets. What about Jhanhekhar? Sure, it was a lot colder there than on this planet, but Tereskàdians and whistling dragons would have no trouble surviving there. Alharhanians who were found guilty of the most heinous crimes, including any crimes perpetrated against Tereskàdians, lived there, and they were surviving.

What was I thinking? I was getting way ahead of myself, seeing the year 5700, and assuming that Tharhedhal would be right. I was here, I was now; as far as I was concerned 5700 was still a long way off.

Hmmm, I wonder what date it will be when the ship touches down at the spaceport just outside Treskebhar.

Pešhŏt. 15.489/Day 515

When we started out on our walk to the nearest village Jhorhea wanted to know how far it would be. When I told her she wasn’t too sure she wanted to go, but I persuaded her that if she wanted to visit other Tereskadians she would have to walk there.

When we walked through the forest it brought back memories of some ten years earlier when Rhalhea and I and over a hundred cubs walked away from the villages in order to get away from Jhar Morněl and his men. Because of all the snow on the ground, the atmosphere was remarkably quiet, and I felt as if I were walking in some sort of dreamland. Jhalhemha was in my pouch, and Rhalhea was carrying Rheža. Jhorhea seemed to be enjoying herself as she plowed through the snow which was light and fluffy. Our whistling dragons were flying above us, and we kept in constant communication with them.

We had eaten well before we left on our journey, so we did not have to look for food. I knew we could reach the first village before the end of the day, but I wondered if the cubs could handle the long walk. Rhalhea, walking beside me, asked me why we hadn’t come when it was summer on Tereskàdhar and I told her that I wanted to show the cubs the real Tereskàdhar, not the one with its brief, mild summer, but the Tereskàdhar we are used to, with its snow and its desdhak’hor. That is why we have fur, I said. So we can survive where Alharhanians dare not go. Hah, she said. The Alharhanians are daring. They are here summer and winter, and they are here to stay.

I had to agree with her. Ages ago, when the Alharhanians first came here Tereskadians first thought that once they had experienced the bitterly cold winter they would be glad to leave, but it was soon apparent that they had no intention of leaving. I thought this rather unfair. When Tereskadians were first brought to Alharhan many of them died, and yet, the Alharhanians had the advantage of dressing warmly to combat the cold weather. We Tereskadians were not so fortunate because it is impossible to remove our fur.

The first village we came to would also be the last one because we had no intention of walking all over ‘Hănharys. This village was a little smaller than the one where I had lived as a cub. We saw Tereskadians of all ages, and Jhorhea and Rheas were happy to see many cubs their age. The leader of the village welcomed us warmly. When he asked where we came from, we told him. He took a close look at my collar with my name as well as Kykherhenha’s engraved upon it. Ah, he said, in that kind of drawn-out breathy way that reminded me of Bešhelhor, the late leader of my village, you are the one who took all those cubs to safety.

šhŏt. 13.489/Day 513

During the past two weeks we have been overwhelmed by three blizzards, which meant that none of us could go outside. This didn’t sit too well with Jhorhea, because when we were in the house I once called home, there was nothing much to do. I knew that she would rather have been outside, up at the canyon, looking down at the river, or yearning to cross the bridge.

I spent my time grooming myself, nursing my daughter, talking with Rhalhea, communicating with Kykherhenha. The one common subject was the return to Alharhan. After the first blizzard howled through the village and left everything white and bitterly cold, Jhorhea wanted to know when we would be going home, and Rheža echoed her words. I looked at Rhalhea, but through our whistling dragons, she told me that it was up to me. I told my daughters that there would be more than ten more months of what we call the snow season, and they didn’t like that at all. Jhorhea said she wanted to go home right now, because there was nothing to do here. She had no friends here, because she was a stranger here, a stranger on the planet of her parents, and of her ancestors.

What could I say? She had a point, of course. All her friends, both Alharhanian and Tereskàdian, were the children and the cubs living in the city of Treskebhar, on the planet Alharhan. That was where she and her sisters belonged now. I told her I would have to check the schedule we brought with us, and I would see when the next ship traveled back to Alharhan. In the meantime, she would just have to get used to the weather. I assured that dŵeshades usually lasted only about two or three days, and then the sun would come out, and we could venture outside again. How many storms will there be? she asked. I told her I didn’t know, but sometimes there were two or three in a row, and sometimes there was just one big storm. I couldn’t really give her a clear answer.

One evening, when the two older cubs were asleep, and Jhalhemha had fallen asleep on Rhalhea’s teat, I opened up the schedule, which gave the time and dates for travel between Alharhan and Tereskàdhar, and I found that the earliest we could leave would be Pešhŏrhoŵhenhashen 20th, which was thirty days in the future. Rhalhea and I looked at each other, and we were thinking of Jhorhea. Thirty days would seem such a long time for her, but there was nothing we could do about it. We had no control over when the ship came and when it left again.

Rhalhea and I decided that we would make sure to be at the spaceport on the 20th of next month. If we missed that flight, another ship would not come until about forty days after that. I am sure that Jhorhea will remind us to be at the spaceport every day.

I have just finished drinking from Kykherhenha, and am now looking out the window at the great expanse of white. If I were to go outside right now, I would sink into the snow up to my thighs. Luckily I don’t have to worry about catching any food, because the prey we had caught prior to dŵeshades’s arrival will last us for a few more days. After that, we will have to hunt again.

Kykherhenha suggests that we should visit one of the other villages before we leave this planet, but I could see no purpose in that. All the Tereskàdians I knew in this village had been murdered, and I was not familiar with the Tereskàdians in other villages. Apparently Kykherhenha talked with Keridhar, because a moment later Rhalhea turns to me and asks me what is wrong with visiting other Tereskàdians. We are not going to stay here by ourselves, in a dead village, for the next thirty days, she says. What about the cubs? Maybe they want to see other cubs. So she keeps telling me, and suddenly I feel like a khobharet that hadn’t eaten anything in days. So I tell her, yes, we will go to the nearest village tomorrow. I almost said today, but decided that there wasn’t much left of today.

The more I think about it, the more I decide that Kykherhenha and Rhalhea are right. I guess I want to stay in this village because I want to squeeze out some memories of my past, memories that have long since vanished. At night, when I’m curled up, asleep, I dream that the village is alive and vibrant again, and I don’t want to wake up, but when I open my eyes, reality tortures me again. I close my eyes again, but it is useless, because the morning light drifts through the window, and I know that the village is empty, empty of life and laughter, and joy and sorrow.

Are you crying again? Kykherhenha asks. I couldn’t deny it, of course. Tomorrow, I tell her, we are leaving. There is nothing more here for us.

Pešhŏtemharhashen. 6.489/Day 506