Page 5 of Taken to Heimo
Rope bridges connect tree-based structures that house all manner of trading stall, restaurants, manufacturing units, and homes. Occasionally, the bridges do break and those that fall to the ground are rescued as quickly as possible… Other times, beings fall from the rope bridges and go unnoticed… Then, they have to fight.
The creatures of Qath are large, scary, and remind me of the stories Miari and Kiki told of the eight-armed beasts who live on our moon colony. I’m grateful for the attention of Tur’Roth. As one of Voraxia’s principal warriors — a xcleranx — following me around should be beneath his rank, but he seems happy to do it. And I’m happy to have him.
“Do you need help carrying anything?” He asks.
He blinks his large, black eyes and I smile, again having to guess at his emotions by the muted colors of his ridges. They are a pale blue at the moment. Blue is typical of contentment.
“Nox. Thank you though, Tur’Roth.”
He nods again and looks forward, helping me navigate a path among the many rope bridges and landings until we eventually arrive at Qath’s training grounds. One of the few places that touches Qath’s soil, the training grounds span a considerable portion of land. Here, the earth is dense and packed and the trees form a protective perimeter around the vast space, at least a thousand paces long.
I climb down the ladder, lower my packages with the surprisingly simple pulley system, and turn to face the open square with Tur’Roth by my side. My breath shortens, as it does every time.
The warriors of Qath are an impressive thing to behold. Spread out in a grid formation, each warrior is exactly the same distance from the warriors surrounding him — or her, though there are quite a few more males here than females. This lack is another thing I mean to speak with Krisxox about, though I’m certain he won’t change his admittance policy on my account. Or even consider it. In fact, I think with a frown, my intervention could make the situationworsefor the female warriors looking to be trained by him. I will just need to find more inventive means of tricking him into doing it. Maybe, I could suggest that there aretoo manyfemales training under him.Surely, he’d admit a dozen more immediately if I did that, I think and laugh under my breath.
More than sixty warriors train under Krisxox’s tutelage at a time. Each of them currently holds a large, bow-shaped weapon with outward-facing spikes.Like Niahhorru spines…I shudder at the memories, and subtly make the sign of the Tri-God across my chest before forcing all thoughts of the Niahhorru back to the depths where they have no life.
“What is this weapon called?” I ask Tur’Roth in Voraxian as we approach the arena-style bench seats that span the full length of the training ground. They are often full and this solar is no exception.
From where we sit, Krisxox’s back is to us while his trainees face us. They mimic his motions as he makes them, though none come close to his brutal elegance.
I’ve seen Krisxox fight many times now and it’s a mesmerizing thing, belying an endurance, a calm, and a stoicism that his attitude towards me does not.
“That is an erdpremor.”
“Erdpremor,” I repeat, tilting my head. “A star sling?”
Tur’Roth laughs lightly and leans in towards me conspiratorially. His scent is like fresh straw and a deeper, heartier musk. It’s attractive and so is he, with his jet black hair in tribute to his proud, Voraxian heritage, and his pure purple eyes, which are without pupil or iris.
“A starsaw,” he corrects and I warm.
“Ah. That does make more sense,” I say quickly. I wrinkle my nose.
“You don’t need to be embarrassed.”
His dark grey-blue lips quirk. He has undoubtedly spent enough time around me to recognize my blush and its meaning, which naturally only makes me blush harder.
“Your Voraxian is very good.”
“Thank you. And thank you for helping me learn.”
I grip the glossy, dark wooden bench beneath me to keep myself from leaning back when Tur’Roth leans in even closer.I hate it when he does this…
“I’m happy to help you with anything you need.”
He strokes the backs of his fingers down my cheek and, so subtly as to almost seem unintentional, over my bottom lip.
With a forced smile, I take his wrist and place his hand back in his lap where I give it a gentle squeeze.
“Tur’Roth, we’ve talked about this. Whatever feud exists between the two of you, you don’t constantly need to exacerbate it.”
He at least has the decency to look contrite. “Apologies. I just don’t think it’s fair that I should be denied the right to touch you simply because it pisses him off. Though you have to admit, it is fun pissing him off a little bit, isn’t it?” He winks at me and I can’t help but choke back a grin of my own.
“While that may be true…” And it is, though I’d never openly admit to it… “It is highly disruptive and with the Rakukanna and Raku so preoccupied, I don’t need this devolving into an excuse for Krisxox to strike you.” Which he has already, more than once.
“I don’t mind being struck if it’s for such a worthwhile cause,” he says and my belly tightens or flutters or churns. I’m never really sure which, when he says these things to me. Part of me adores the attention. The other part of me worries that his attentions are bestowed for all the wrong reasons.
“I’d rather not see it.”
