Page 25 of Elas

“Based on those tears of shame, no.” Another rogue chuckle slips free as he rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Let’s get some food in your system before you drink any more.”

“More? You expect me to drinkmoreof that poison?” he mutters from behind me as I pull a tray of sliced meats and cheeses from the fridge, along with a jar of pickles and a box of crackers I swiped from the galley earlier. August’s eyes light up as I place the food on the table. “Fancy spread.”

His eyes narrow as I refill his glass, and he drags the plate closer to him. “You think all that food is yours? You have to share,” I warn him with a lifted brow.

Never breaking eye contact, he grabs a slice of cheese and a cracker and shoves them in his mouth defiantly. “If you want me to drink with you, I need something in my stomach.”

“Lightweight,” I taunt again, and he scoffs as he picks through the sampling of food.

“Not denying it.” We take another shot, and his eyes steadily grow hazier. This alcohol is stronger than anything he’s used to, and he’s admitted he doesn’t drink often. Asmuch fun as it might be to see the doc drunk, I’ll have to monitor him and make sure he doesn’t make himself sick.

He examines the cheese in his hand for a moment before shaking it in my direction. “Was there cheese on the other side?”

I snort a laugh at the goofy grin spreading over his face. “Yes, we had cheese.”

“Does that mean there are monster cows? Monster goats?” His eyes light up as he shakes his cheese yet again. “Moats?!”

“Sorry to disappoint, but there are no moats.” His smile twists into a disappointed pout, and I resist the urge to reach over and tug at that sweet bottom lip. “There are several mammals that produce milk. The kravache is the most common. They don’t look like your cows, though. An elk would probably be closer, but kravache have bigger horns.”

“Bigger?” he asks in a slurred whisper. “I’ve never seen an elk, but I think their horns are…” He trails off and holds his arms beside his ears like antlers. “Big.”

I chuckle as he gives me a lopsided grin, his hands settling back on the table. “Yeah, doc. They’re bigger. Most villages had at least a few kravache, and their milk made amazing cheese and butter.”

“Did you live in a big village?”

A pang of sadness hits me hard as I remember the last time I stepped foot inside my parents’ house. Knowing that the divide between the worlds was destroyed… knowing our home no longer exists… it’s fucking devastating. Decades have passed, nearly a century, but that’s the type of wound that never fully heals.

I clear my throat, my voice soft. “Not a huge one, no. There were less than a hundred of us.”

“Were they all your same… uh, species?” I huff a laugh at his uncertainty.

“Most were Nu’vak, yes. There were a few that weren’t… partners or close friends that had followed someone there. My people are generally pretty accepting of outsiders. We’re big enough that we don’t really have to worry about threats.”

August leans forward, resting his chin on his palm with his elbow on the table. “Are you the biggest? You seem like you’d be the biggest.”

That stirring deep inside my gut shudders at the innocent suggestion behind his words. Subconsciously, I push my chest out to make myself take up even more space, something instinctual wanting me to show him just howbigI really am.

“I was the biggest in my village, yes. There are a few races that can grow larger than us, but not many. We are known as the fiercest warriors. Others may be taller or heavier, but none of them match us in battle… especially when we are protecting someone important to us.”

“Is that why you joined the military? To protect?”

Another of those pinches hits my chest, and I place my palm over my ribcage and rub at the phantom pain. “No. There are very few diseases that affect our kind, but the ones that exist are devastating. They can’t be cured, only managed. My mother was sick for as long as I can remember, and my father spent most of his time caring for her. Things fell behind, because there just weren’t enoughhours in the day. I stopped attending my lessons because they needed me more.”

“One day, a platoon came through and an officer approached me. He said if I enlisted, they’d support my parents. They’d take on the burdens we couldn’t bear, even with the community behind us. They did what they could, but everyone had their own families to look after. It wasn’t that they didn’t help, because they did. She just needed round-the-clock attention, and it was more than we could handle.”

“I would’ve helped you,” August says quietly, and I nod absently as I stare at the table.

“I know you would have.”

“Did they keep their word?” My eyes move back to his in question. “Did they take care of her?”

“They did. Once I arrived at my first station, we could write letters. The military sent regular shipments of supplies to my father, so he didn’t have to hunt or scavenge. Once a week, they sent a medic in to track her health.”

“What happened to her?” His voice is quiet now and his eyes are a little foggy from the alcohol, but he’s trying to focus. He cares, that much is obvious. I offer him what I hope is a reassuring smile, even though it’s fragile.

“I didn’t see her again until the rifts opened. Once we were given our orders and we knew we would be crossing over to this side, they gave us a week to get our affairs in order. I spent mine travelling home. Her condition had gone downhill, but she still had that same giant smile on her face, even though her health had declined.”

“You must get that from her,” he says in almost a whisper, and another fluttery surge rushes through my chest. “That beautiful smile.”

---