Chapter 51
51
Z’fir
T he rhythmic thrum of cheers and chants from the arena reverberated in Z’fir’s chest as he stood near the edge of the shaded spectator’s balcony. The platform overlooked the battlefield below, where female Aldawi warriors were locked in fierce, agile combat. The air carried the tang of salt and desert heat, mingling with the faint metallic smell of freshly upturned dirt from the arena floor.
Z’fir allowed himself a rare moment of indulgence, appreciating the spectacle before him. The female Aldawi fought with a ferocity that reminded him why their species were revered as warriors. The sand churned beneath their feet, the claws gleamed, and muscles coiled like springs as the challengers vied for dominance.
While male Aldawi were renowned for their physical strength, these female warriors demonstrated their superiority through lethal agility. The thought struck him just how dangerous the Aldawi military might have been if the empire hadn’t been so fractured by internal conflict.
The Aldawi were already regarded as one of strongest—if not the strongest—empires in the CEG. Now that his nestqueen and clanbrother were focusing on uniting their citizens, the galaxy should fear how powerful their forces would become—especially with the new technology Kaede and the Fab Five continued to develop to help protect the royal family.
Z’fir’s vines shifted lazily around his waist, their usual restlessness from the desert heat now subdued. He felt V’dim’s presence beside him, the connection with his bondbrother a constant, calming force. Despite the camaraderie, Z’fir’s focus remained split—half enjoying the contest below and half tethered to his nestqueen.
She sat on her throne beside Zirene, her energy subdued yet steady. Their cubs were in the royal booth beside them, joyfully yelling out their own play-by-play of their favorite contenders. Royak and Vikvez sat on the opposite side of the Sovereign, demonstrating their shared support for his reign. Masmi and Kaede stood beside them, with vidtablets in their hands, excitedly reading off stats to the royal couple.
His nestqueen, ever radiant, bore a heavy mantle today, and he resolved not to pull her focus by needing her attention. The universe seemed to want her to notice them—and, having mated with his nestqueen, he refused to become like his clanbrother, Odelm, who was constantly in need of reassurance.
What else did he need when he had all he could ever want?
His place, for now, was here, ensuring their guests felt welcome and entertained—a task he proudly shared with his bondbrother.
Z’fir tuned back into the conversation beside him as Zyxel’s tail tapped against the metal railing. “The third fighter—what’s her name again? Eshe?” Zyxel gestured toward the arena, his voice hissing with barely-contained excitement. “She’s got this round for sure. She’s got both strength and strategy. Look at that footwork. The way she anticipated her opponent’s feint just now—perfection.”
Ryzen, standing tall and stoic beside him, shook his head. “Eshe’s strong, but she over commits—almost out of some sort of desperation. If her opponent catches on, she’ll be done before the next clash.” Ryzen let out a low hum, his jade tattoos shimmering faintly in the filtered sunlight. “That second contestant, Riska—she’s relentless. Watch her movements—each strike builds on the last, wearing her opponent down.”
“Relentless? You mean predictable. Eshe is playing the long game. She’ll take down Riska, mark my words.” Luwyn folded his arms, his wings twitching with amusement. “But you’re both underestimating the one in silver. She’s patient. This is a waiting game, and patience wins battles.”
Z’fir shared a mental chuckle with V’dim as the debate grew more animated.
“They’re as excited as the cubs,” V’dim commented amusingly. One of his tentacles reached out to snag a drink from a passing server, its movement fluid and casual. “Makes me wonder how they’ll react to the Mating Games later.”
“Let them have their fun,” Z’fir replied, his mental tone tinged with warmth. “But keep an eye on our nestqueen. These fights... they might stir something in her. Memories she doesn’t need to relive.”
“She’s strong, but we can’t assume. After everything she’s been through…” V’dim’s agreement resonated through their shared bond, a pulse of understanding that settled Z’fir’s more restless instincts. “I’ve been watching her emotions. They’re steady for now. But if anything changes…”
“We’re here if she needs us.” Z’fir nodded as his gaze swept the arena. “Hopefully, we’re just being overprotective and everything will be fine.”
Selena had endured more than most could fathom. She didn’t need any reminders of her past torment. Not here, not now—with the whole planet focused on her.
A soft laugh from Oeta broke into his thoughts as she spoke with Mwe about Aldawi clothing. “The fabric of those Aldawi robes is remarkable. Light, protective, and durable—yet so elegant,” she said, running a hand down the flowing sleeve of her robe. “Before we leave, I’d like to visit the market. Imagine being able to fly with something made out of this.”
Mwe tilted his head thoughtfully, the folds of his black headmaster robes swaying
with the motion. “Agreed. It would be a mistake to leave without ordering some custom crafted. Even if they weren’t ready before we leave, I’m sure it wouldn’t take much effort to have our order delivered.”
“It wouldn’t be hard to arrange it,” V’dim agreed, nodding and then gesturing to the royal couple. “After all, Oeta works directly for the Beacon, and is sponsored by the Sovereign. Merchants would jump at the chance to fulfill such an order for the Head Chamber Master and his daughter, a highly regarded royal scientist.”
“I’ve never thought about using my position working with the Aldawi royal family as a way to get things before.” Oeta frowned. “Or that others knew about me and what I was doing.”
“You’ve never had an influential position until now,” Mwe corrected, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Before relocating to Destima, you were known only as your late mother’s daughter—and mine. But now, you have your own title, and the research you’re conducting has the potential to benefit not just the demi-humans, who are Aldawi citizens, but others across the galaxy facing fertility issues.”
“Z’fir and I aren’t Aldawi, and by their laws, we’re considered royal consorts to the Beacon, regardless of our old stripped prince titles or that we fought as commanders of the Circuli forces under Sovereign Zirene’s command during the Yarrkins War.” V’dim shrugged and wrapped his tentacle around one of Z’fir’s vines, entwining its ends. “Thankfully, we don’t need to use our titles within the Aldawi empire, for Selena’s presence has been the talk of its citizens, but I know we will need to whenever we travel outside our borders, especially at the CEG HQ Space Station. Any news about her or the royal family—which includes us since we’re members of their clan—spreads like a shooting star across the night sky.”
“Think of it as the merchants being able to state to potential clients that they’ve done work for you,” Mwe offered, gesturing to the crowd. “If we treat them with respect and compensate them fairly for the work they do, they will gladly work for us in hopes of future opportunities.”
Z’fir tuned them out momentarily, his focus returning to the arena as one of the fighters landed a brutal hit, sending her opponent sprawling into the sand. As another warrior delivered the final blow, the crowd erupted in cheers, and Z’fir clapped respectfully alongside the others.
The crowd’s cheers settled into a low murmur as the arena’s announcer prepared to introduce the final match.
Ryzen leaned casually against the balcony railing, his jade tattoos faintly glowing in the sunlight. “Are you ready for the Mating Games after lunch?” Ryzen asked, his deep voice cutting through the ambient noise. His emerald tattoos pulsed faintly as he turned toward Zyxel. “You think you can fight Kaede in front of a crowd this size?”
Zyxel shifted uncomfortably, his tail coiling loosely beneath him. “I’m nervous,” he admitted, the edges of his words tinged with unease. “I’ve never fought in front of a crowd this size before. There are more citizens here than we ever had back on the asteroid base.”
Mwe’s attention sharpened as he turned toward the serpent medic, his magenta aura flaring. “And how does the Beacon feel about all this?” he asked pointedly, his tone calm but layered with disapproval. “You, who aren’t part of her clan, openly determined to win the Mating Games? My daughter isn’t a prize to be won. I fail to see why she agreed to this tradition.”
Z’fir let out a long sigh, his vines drooping under the weight of the conversation. “She would rather not take part in it,” he admitted. “But Selena knows how much it means to her people. This festival, the games—they’re all symbolic. It’s about tradition—a way to bring them together, to celebrate the future of the empire by showing strength and unity.”
Mwe’s brow furrowed, his wings ruffling slightly, skepticism clear in his posture. “Even though she already has a large clan and is mated to the Sovereign?”
V’dim leaned forward and gazed below, his tentacles curling around the edge of the railing. “It’s supposed to be for show,” he clarified. “No sane male Aldawi in their right mind would seriously challenge for her. Not with the Sovereign by her side and the rest of us prepared to defend her honor.” His tentacles twitched with anticipation, as if already preparing for a potential fight. “If anyone dares to try, they’ll regret it.”
Z’fir’s vines shifted slightly, brushing against his bondbrother in a silent agreement. “My clanbrothers turned it into a game,” he added, his tone lighter to ease the tension. “The winner gets to spend the rest of the day—and all of tomorrow—with her. No interruptions.”
Oeta’s gaze flicked toward Zyxel, her wings twitching slightly. “Which is why you’re entering,” she asked, her voice calm but direct. “A chance to spend time with her, away from her clan.”
Zyxel’s tail tightened briefly before he inclined his head. “I have my reasons,” he said carefully, his gaze flicking between Z’fir, V’dim, and Mwe. “If I win, I’ll be respectful toward her. But this is more than just a game to me. I’m not here to upset her clan or cause problems. I have... a lot to say. Things I need her to hear.”
Z’fir’s vines stilled, his focus narrowing on Zyxel’s words. There was something deeper there, a rawness that even Zyxel couldn’t fully conceal. As their gazes briefly met, Z’fir saw the weight of all the emotions Zyxel had been hiding behind his confident facade.
“You think the Games are the best way to do that?”
“I do—by winning the Mating Games,” Zyxel added, his voice firm now as the coils of his body tightened. “I can be seen. If that’s what it takes, then I’ll do whatever it takes to win.”