Chapter 45
Year XXXX September 28 Pearls and Flame I never thought I would be married, not since I left Emilia behind when I started my journey to study Endermen. Suddenly being married, to an Enderman no less, is very disorienting and I find myself uneasy since I've entered a level of Enderman society I had believed barred to me by incompatibility. Now I watch as Mel'lank hunts out the specific foods that I have witnessed females that are preparing to be mothers eat. Vine tips, cast off husks of fruit, and the occasional flower are what is usually sampled when they prepare to make a baby but as with humans each individual has their own specific dietary urges. She is partial to the Alliums I first saw in Stargrain, rose petals and odd blue flower I have seen in swamps as of late. Theo is in awe of the new plants and stares at the rosebushes we pass and I can see why, these rosebushes are as tall as a man is and full of impressive thorns unlike the single flowers that are common in Vendross. Mel has been very open about her hopes to have me sire a child with her and I do not think she understands that it is imposable since I'm human for various anatomical reasons. She gets frustrated when I try to explain this to her and insists that it can be done by pointing at Evalia and Riley, with such proof watching me every day I can't deny that somehow a hybrid human/Enderman can happen. As long as Mel is willing to talk about it, I can be reasonably assured that she will not do anything to me to get what she wants but I've seen Endermen use force to get their way. I do not want to be known for being forced to sire offspring against my will with an Ender. With that said, Mel has gone to Sven to talk and I have not overheard what they talk about, Sven seems fascinated by whatever the topic is and I can see him memorizing every word. Between conversations with Sven, Mel has been spending a lot of time with me and made a point of sharing food; to be polite I follow her example but I feel trapped by the exchange. I am not a married man by human standards but the clan considers me so with the binding of hands with string, which complicates things. Endermen are marital monogamists and part only when one of them dies, there is no such thing as divorce for them. On a different note, those without a child of their own have adopted our little survivors and are doing their best to keep their charges alive healthy and happy. The little villager that fell in love with Endermen thanks to my writings is delighted by his new parents and is soaking up everything he can. He caught onto the child's games quickly and is more than happy to be the miner in the Miner and Creepers game, and happily imitates the Endermen when he gets to play that role. He even has a talent for Bobstones and his face really lights up when he wins a round. Tiny has taken D'ni under his wing and together they get into trouble even more so than when Tiny and Sven get rowdy with Annalae's bow, most notably when the villager created flint and steel. Tiny held the tool in one hand and was clicking it to watch the sparks fly from it; Sven passed by and observed the orange motes flying into the air before belching. Sven has maintained his appetite for dehydrated watermelons and both Tiny and the villager threw themselves backwards when the sparks caught the noxious gas and turned it into a fiery plume that was shooting from Sven's face. Even Sven looked startled and he threw himself backwards, flailed on the ground, and thrashed around as if he had been caught on fire himself. What followed was both amusing and concerning as Underbite swatted the Enderman around until they squealed and he growled at the villager before knocking him down as well into a pile of dust and leaves where the young man stayed. I worried about the lad as he lay on the ground until Underbite, satisfied with his discipline, turned and grumbled his way back to the clan Elders. I really need to find another village for these refugees to live in, Endermen can get rough and the swat D'ni suffered was not meant to do harm but the boy looks winded nonetheless. Pearls, villagers and, fire; this has been one hell of a strange week Henri Lemark