Page 72 of Galactic Sentinels: Vol 2
I burst out laughing at his blatant bad faith. A fleeting smile twitches across his face, but I don’t dare point it out.
When six Gekkaris arrive to help him down from the tree, he snaps.
“I’m not helpless. I’m going to try on my own!”
“But—”
“I said I’ll do it!” he yells. “I’m sick of being tossed around by scaly lizards like I’m some oversized parcel. For the Stars’ sake, leave me alone!”
Surprised, the Gekkaris step back as Nov slowly approaches the edge of the hut.
Without a word, I sign to Goulou to be ready to catch him if needed.
Wide-eyed, I watch alongside my Gekkari friends as Nov takes on each step with brute determination. He descends one rung at a time, relying on his good leg and upper body strength, never once putting weight on his injury. It's... impressive.
When he finally sets foot on the ground, his whole body trembles from the effort, but the look in his eyes is blazing with pride. He’s panting, but not too proud to take a rest on the seat waiting at the base of the tree.
“Now, I’m going hunting,” he announces with drama.
Well. I may have spoken too soon. He’s proud enough to believe he can bag a kill in his condition.
But I won’t talk him out of it. He’ll realize his limits soon enough.
“Weh comin’ doo!” announces Goulou, clearly determined to follow Nov wherever he goes to look after him.
So, Flea, Gooz, and I sit by the hut, watching Nov hobble away surrounded by four Gekkaris on his grand quest for edible prey.
“Do you think he’ll find anything?” I ask Flea, who tilts her head thoughtfully.
“Goulou no’z!” she nods.
“Yeah, he knows where to find bugs and larvae. But Nov... he wants something bigger!”
She shrugs in response—a gesture she picked up from watching me too much.
When Nov returns a few hours later, empty-handed and visibly frustrated, he slumps onto a chair near my lab.
“This forest is cursed. The animals mock me. They laugh at my slowness!”
“No, Nov, the forest isn’t cursed. It’s exactly how it’s always been—welcoming, vibrant, teeming with life. And the animals aren’t mocking you. They’re curious. They’ve sensed you’re a predator weakened by injury.”
“I’m NOT WEAK!” he snaps.
Yikes. Poke the beast, and get the fangs.
Ever since his fever broke, Nov radiates menace like a wild creature barely restrained. But I keep teasing him—it’s the only way to remind him he’s still recovering.
“I’d never say such a thing, my lord,” I answer with a mischievous grin.
He stiffens at the mockery and looks away.
But it makes sense, doesn’t it? I’ve often wondered about who he was before Vagantu. He must’ve been powerful. Everything about him screams command, authority, and entitlement. Losing all that must be... unbearable.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
He gives me a curious look.
“I don’t know anything about your past—you dodge every question I ask—but over the past weeks, I’ve watched you regain your strength. Your posture, your attitude... it tells me you were someone important. And you will be again, if you’re patient. Your body is healing. Soon, you’ll be strong enough to find a ship and go back home. You’re not a slave anymore, Nov. You’re free.”
