Page 1 of Elas

Elas

Ninety-Five Years Ago

Alackofintelligencedemands an abundance of toughness. It’s nature’s most basic law. If you’re going to be dumb, you have to be tough, and if you’re neither… Well, you better pray to the Fates that you’re pretty.

My opponent struck out on all three counts.

“Come on, is that all you’ve got?” I feign a lunge at Khors with a mocking smile, savoring the violent, mossy green rage that sparks in his eyes. I enjoy his fury far too much. Dust kicks into the air as he makes a bulky dodge to the left. He aims a clumsy sweep at my legs, like he might actually surprise me with a maneuver he’s attempted six times today—each of them as unsuccessful as the last.

Khors is from the Khileon race, so while I have a height advantage over him, he’s bulky as fuck. Powerful hands and bulging muscles that could tear me limb from limb, but nobody beats a Nu’vak in reactionspeed. Our heightened senses don’t miss a thing. Just before he lunges, his breathing hitches and the muscles along his shoulders twitch, and I laugh as I dodge again, catching the wind from his failed attempt.

I redirect my practice sword, lifting the hilt and twisting the wooden blade to slap against his cheek with a satisfyingthwack.“Move faster, princess. If you’re going to be that ugly, you gotta learn to pick up those feet.”

“Fuck you, Elas!” he bellows, swinging at me in a series of desperate, sloppy swipes as his cheeks redden. His temper always gets the best of him, and today is no different. Some might say I have a little something to do with that, and sure…maybethey have a point.

But I match energy, and his is a cloud of toxic waste.

Dickweed.

His left side is his weakness, and I wait for another opening before I lunge. When he flinches, I spin my sword and swing it between his legs, tapping him in the balls with a laugh.

“Gods damn you!” he shouts, flinging his weapon aside and charging.

Well, shit.

The breath leaves me in a whoosh as my back crashes into the dirt, his weight on my gut pinning me in place. His fist slams into my cheek, and I throw my head back and laugh even harder, my strained lungs wheezing as he punches me again.

“Is that the best you can do?” I taunt, and the next blow splits my lip, but I keep smiling at him. He fuckinghatesit when I smile. “Maybe if you’d actually learn how to use your sword, your balls wouldn’t be retracting upinto your body to hide. I’m surprised they ever dropped to begin with, you pansy ass little—“

His fist pulls back, and I brace myself for the blow. A flash of purple shoots between us and wraps around his wrist. We both startle and turn to the newcomer. “You’re being a bully,” he sneers at Khors, crossing his arms. The arrogance in his posture and the condescending curl of his lip make me start laughing all over again.

He’s not a day over eighteen, all gangly elbows and knees. Khors snarls at him, trying to rip his hand free from the tail that’s wrapped around it. The kid only snares his other hand with a second tail, looking wholly unimpressed. Khors is neon red now, the color an ugly clash with his sickly pale green skin.

“In case you missed it, this is a fucking training ring, not a daycare,” Khors snarls, but the kid gives a bored shrug.

“Weapons training, yes… not hand-to-hand combat. Unless you’re trying to tell me you consider those hands weapons…” He trails off, giving another snarky once-over to Khors, who easily doubles him in size. “Well,” he says after a pause, huffing a derisive laugh, “thatwouldbe funny, wouldn’t it?”

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Khors roars, and I smile wider, slipping my hands behind my head as I watch him struggle to get free. “Mark my words, I will chop your tails off and shove them right up your—“

“Ah, boys,” Officer Bravis says, his voice tight and fuse short. “I see you’ve already made us look bad to our newest recruit.” Khors stops resisting and attempts to look innocent, even with my blood streaking his knuckles.

I’m convinced Khors and Bravis are related somehow. It’s the only way to explain how Khors is progressing through his training, despite his inability to swing anything other than a fist. Bravis glances at me on the ground, raising his brow at the trickle of blood leaking from my busted lip.

“Elas, am I to assume you were mouthing off again?”

“He hit me in the balls,” Khors whines, and Bravis levels him with a dangerous stare.

“If he caught you off guard, then you need to work on your defenses. How many times must we go through this?” Khors drops his eyes to the ground, admonished, and I can’t help my chuckle at his suspended hands hanging in the air. He’s a puppet, dangling from his strings.

“Ronan, release him.” The Anunian kid nods, slacking his grip. Khors yanks his arms back, rubbing his wrists while he mutters under his breath.

Officer Bravis seizes him by the neck of his armor and yanks him to his feet. “If you’re going to make the effort to speak, have the courage to say it where everyone can hear.” Khors’s face burns an even brighter red, but he remains silent. Bravis snarls and leads him away, holding him by the scruff of his neck like a naughty child being sent to time out.

“Why was he hitting you?” Ronan asks, reaching for me. I blink in surprise, but take his offered hand as I stand and knock the dirt off my armor.

“He says I smile too much.” He cocks his head, the condescending action causing me to laugh again at the absurdity. A scrawny teenager a full foot shorter than mesomehow pulls off a sneer that makes me feel two feet tall. “That, and Ididsmack him in the balls.”

Ronan glances at where Bravis has dragged Khors aside, random angry words from his lecture finding their way to us. “Why’d you let him hit you?”

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