Chapter 6 Terra
TERRA
I found Vega in one of the smaller training chambers, the kind tucked away in Scalvaris's maze of corridors where you had to know it existed to find it. She preferred these spaces. Quieter. Less crowded. No audience of Drakarn warriors watching her every move and making judgments.
She was running drills when I arrived. Endurance work, the kind that looked deceptively simple until you tried it yourself. Sprint to the wall, touch it, sprint back. Over and over until your lungs burned and your legs turned to jelly.
I watched her complete three cycles before she noticed me.
"You here to train or spectate?" she called without breaking stride.
"I thought I’d watch you sweat."
She rolled her eyes. "Get your ass out here."
I dropped my jacket and joined her. The first sprint felt good, muscles warming, blood pumping. The second was harder. By the fifth, I remembered why I usually avoided Vega's training sessions. The woman was relentless.
We ran in silence for a while. Just breathing and footfalls and the scrape of boots on stone. As usual, this place felt like a furnace. Sweat soaked through my shirt.
Finally, Vega slowed to a stop. She bent over, hands on knees, sucking air. I did the same, grateful for the break.
"So," she said between breaths. "What do you want?"
"Can't I just want to train with a friend?"
"You could. But you don't." She straightened, wiping sweat from her face. "You've got that look. The one that means you're about to do something stupid and you want someone to tell you it's a good idea."
Damn. She knew me too well.
I grabbed her water flask and took a long drink, buying time and ignoring the faintly disgusted look she gave me for stealing her drink. "I'm thinking about entering the Skalanth."
Vega's expression didn't change. "No."
"You didn't even let me explain."
"I don't need to. The answer is no." She snatched the flask from me and took a drink. "That's a terrible idea."
Okay, this was not going as expected. "It would show them I can compete on their level."
"It would show them you're willing to break your neck for their approval." Vega's voice was flat. Final. "Which you shouldn't be."
I felt my jaw tighten. "I thought you'd understand."
"I do understand. That's why I'm saying no.
" She moved closer, her gray eyes sharp.
"You're never going to win if you play by their rules, Terra.
The whole fucking thing is rigged. It's designed for Drakarn warriors for Drakarn strengths.
You entering doesn't prove you're strong. It proves you're desperate."
The word hit harder than it should have.
"I'm not desperate."
"Then why are you considering this?" Vega gestured at the training chamber around us.
"You've already proven yourself. Multiple times.
You led the defense when those desert predators attacked.
You've trained with their warriors and held your own.
You survived a crash landing on an alien planet and built a life here. What more do you need to prove?"
"That I belong," I said quietly. With Darrokar. I couldn't bring myself to say that last bit out loud. I did. He was my mate. Fate had decreed it, and the rest of the universe could take a hike.
"To whom? Karyseth? The fuckers who hate us on principle?" Vega shook her head. "They're never going to accept you. Not if you win the Skalanth. Not if you single-handedly save the city. They've decided you're the enemy, and nothing you do will change that."
"So I should just accept the bullshit? Let them treat me like I'm some kind of parasite?"
"No. You should stop caring what they think.
" Vega's voice softened slightly. "The Skalanth is about pride.
Tradition. It's not about real worth or actual capability.
It's a ritual designed to reinforce their hierarchy and their values.
Why do you need validation from a system that was never built for you? "
I wanted to argue. Wanted to explain that it was more complicated than that, that my position as Darrokar's mate meant I had to meet certain expectations, that proving myself wasn't about validation but about survival.
But the words stuck in my throat.
"What does Zarvash think?" I asked instead. Her own mate had once been one of the traditionalists opposed to our presence. Despite his relationship with Vega, I thought he still had a few lingering doubts about us humans.
Vega's mouth twitched. "About the Skalanth? He thinks it's a useful tradition that serves a purpose for Drakarn society. About entering it?" She paused. "We've discussed it. He agrees with me."
That surprised me. "Really?"
"Really." Vega leaned against the wall, her posture relaxing slightly.
"Zarvash is pragmatic. He understands that humans and Drakarn have different strengths.
He doesn't expect me to compete in their trials any more than I expect him to, I don't know, pilot a spaceship or something.
We bring different things to the table."
"But you're not mated to the Warrior Lord."
"No. I'm mated to his Strategic Advisor." Vega's eyes narrowed. "Which means I deal with plenty of political bullshit myself. And I've learned that trying to meet impossible expectations is a waste of energy. Focus on what you're actually good at, not what they think you should be good at."
I turned away, frustration building in my chest. "Easy for you to say."
"Is it?" Her voice had an edge now. "You think I don't get challenged? That warriors don't question why Zarvash chose a human? I get plenty of shit. I just don't let it dictate my choices."
"Because you don't have to." The words came out sharper than I'd intended. "You're not the Warrior Lord's consort. You're not the visible symbol of human-Drakarn relations. When people look at you, they see you. When they look at me, they see Darrokar's weakness."
Silence fell between us.
Vega studied me for a long moment. Then she sighed.
"You're right. Your position is different.
The scrutiny is worse. But that doesn't make the Skalanth a good idea.
If anything, it makes it worse. You fail, and it confirms everything they believe about humans being weak.
You succeed, and they'll say you cheated or that the trials were made easier for you. There's no winning move here."
I knew she was right. Hated it but knew it.
"So what do I do?" I asked. "Just keep taking the harassment? Keep letting them treat me like I don't belong?"
"You keep doing what you've been doing. Living your life.
Doing your work. Being competent and capable and refusing to apologize for existing.
" Vega pushed off the wall. "We can't win them all over.
Some people are always going to hate us.
But we don't need everyone's approval to build a life here.
We just need enough people to see our worth. And you've already got that."
She was making sense. I didn't want her to be making sense, but she was.
"I need to think," I said.
"Good. Think hard. And when you're done thinking, come to the same conclusion I already reached." Vega grabbed her jacket. "Don't do the Skalanth. It's not worth it."
She left me alone in the training chamber.
I stood there for a while, sweat cooling on my skin, listening to the distant sounds of Scalvaris. Voices echoing through corridors. The rush of the underground river. The ever-present hum of geothermal vents.
Vega was right. I knew she was right.
But knowing something and accepting it were different things.
I grabbed my jacket and headed out, no clear destination in mind. Just walking. Letting my feet carry me through the familiar passages while my brain spun in circles.
The market district sprawled ahead of me before I'd consciously decided to go there. The scent hit me first. Spices and smoke and something sweet I couldn't identify. Then the sounds. Vendors calling out their wares, customers haggling, the general chaos of commerce.
I wove through the crowd, human-small among the towering Drakarn bodies. Most ignored me. A few nodded in acknowledgment. One vendor tried to sell me something that looked like dried meat but smelled like sulfur. I politely declined.
Then I saw Orla.
She sat in a small courtyard just off the main market flow, cross-legged on the ground with some kind of device spread out in front of her. Tools scattered around her. Her hands moved quickly, adjusting something, tightening something else.
Three Drakarn children clustered nearby, watching with open curiosity.
I stopped at the courtyard's edge, half-hidden behind a pillar.
"What does it do?" one of the children asked. Young, maybe eight or nine. Her scales were bright green.
"It measures heat signatures," Orla said without looking up. "See this part here? It detects changes in temperature and converts them to visual data."
"Why?"
"Because sometimes you need to find things that are warmer or cooler than their surroundings. Like tracking someone through a tunnel system. Or finding a heat vent that's about to fail."
The child leaned closer. "Can I touch it?"
"Gently." Orla guided the small clawed hand to a safe part of the device. "Feel that? That's the sensor array. Very delicate."
The child touched it with surprising care. Her eyes widened. "It's warm."
"That's because it's active. Reading the ambient temperature right now." Orla made another adjustment and held up the device. "Want to see it work?"
All three children crowded closer.
I watched Orla demonstrate her invention, explaining the technical details in terms the children could understand. They asked questions. She answered patiently. No defensiveness. No need to prove herself. Just a scientist sharing her work with curious minds.
Footsteps approached from behind me. I glanced back and saw Selene, Reika, and Kinsley heading toward the courtyard. They hadn't noticed me yet.
I stepped back, deeper into the shadow of the pillar.
Selene reached Orla first. "Making friends?"
"Educating the next generation," Orla corrected with a grin.
Reika hung back slightly, her posture still uncertain around strangers. But Kinsley moved forward confidently, kneeling down to the children's level.
"That's a clever design," she said, examining Orla's device.
One of the children, the green-scaled girl, looked at Reika. "Are you scared?"
Everyone went still.
Reika's hands twisted together. But she met the child's eyes. "Sometimes. But I'm learning to be brave."
"My mama says being brave means doing things even when you're scared."
"Your mama is very wise."
The child beamed.
I watched the four women interact with the Drakarn children. Natural. Easy. No one was challenging them. No one was questioning their right to be there. They were just people, sharing space, existing together.
They weren't trying to prove anything.
They were just living.
A Drakarn adult approached the courtyard, probably a parent collecting their child. She nodded to the humans with casual politeness. "Thank you for entertaining them."
"Our pleasure," Selene said.
The adult gathered her children and left. The courtyard quieted.
I stayed in my hiding spot, watching.
Orla packed up her device with careful movements. Reika had relaxed slightly, her shoulders not quite so hunched. Selene stood guard, not obviously, just aware of their surroundings in that way healers learned.
They looked like they belonged.
Not because they'd proven themselves in some grand trial. Not because they'd won over every skeptic. Just because they'd carved out a space and filled it with their presence.
The pressure I felt, the constant need to justify my existence, to prove I was worthy of Darrokar's choice, that was unique to me. The other women weren't immune to harassment or prejudice. But they also weren't carrying the weight of being the Warrior Lord's mate.
Every decision I made reflected on Darrokar. Every failure confirmed the traditionalists' beliefs. Every success was attributed to his protection rather than my capability.
I was trying to meet expectations that were impossible by design.
But I couldn't leave Darrokar. Wouldn't. The mate bond aside, I loved him. Loved the life we were building together. Loved the future we could create.
So what was the solution?
I didn't know.
I turned away from the courtyard before my friends could spot me. Walked back through the market, through the corridors, letting my feet carry me without conscious direction.
Vega said the Skalanth wasn’t the answer, but I couldn’t make myself agree. Failing a trial designed for Drakarn strengths would bruise my pride.
But what if I didn’t fail?
What if I showed them …
Something.
Darrokar might actually kill me if I tried it. He’d wanted me to promise to stay away. And I hadn’t, not exactly.
Though that was almost a lie. I’d deflected when I should have been honest, hidden when I should have told the truth. And I still didn’t know what to do.
I only had a day to decide. Excited whispers whipped through the city as everyone prepared for the festivities.
No one expected me to do it.
No one would judge me for sitting out any more than they judged me for existing.
I kept walking through town and hoped an answer would come to me.