Chapter 6
Vaelor
The ceiling of the dome-shaped room opened from the top down, revealing a strange purple and blue sky. There were three moons and a single sun. The sunlight shone and glistened over the ice and snow surrounding them.
Vaelor smiled. This was similar to his home world. The cold air blew against his face and he inhaled deeply. This he could handle. There was a real chance now of winning.
The Game Master gave the count down. “Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Go!”
Players pushed past. Someone shoved the human female forward. He reached out and caught her before she fell.
“Thanks,” she said breathlessly.
He just growled. “Grab your pack!”
They both picked up their packs but seeing her struggle to put the thing on—it probably weighed as much as she did—only pissed him off. He grabbed both packs and carried them himself.
“I can carry it myself!” the female yelled out as she followed behind him.
“Keep up, little human!”
Vaelor could hear her grumble something about males no matter what species were assholes. There was no time to ask her what she meant. The others were already ahead of them. His first instinct was to leave the female so he could catch up. But then he remembered the tether.
He actually felt it, connecting her to him. He didn’t like that he was not given a choice in partner or choice in whether he wanted to be tethered. Of course, he would have refused the second part. His people bonded but it was natural, not forced. This was a violation.
“Wait! Are we going in the right direction?” The female asked.
“Yes.”
“But I think the Slurchan and Rasilian are going towards the right.”
He glanced in the direction she spoke of. Indeed, the two strange aliens were moving that way. “They are going to get lost.”
“How do you know?”
“We have to head towards the Northern outpost on the other side of the planet. This way is North.”
“Are you sure?”
He stopped to point at the sun. “Yes. North is always 90 degrees to the left of the sunrise. We started in the South. The post is in the North, on the other side of the planet. That is East, that is West. It would mean that the direction we are headed is…”
“North,” she finished for him. “Do you want me to take my pack?”
“No. We need to keep moving if we are to make it to the campground before dark.”
“Lead the way.”
Vaelor knew that usually on the first night, all the players camped in the same location.
But after that, they would not have to share the same camp space.
He preferred being on his own. These aliens were strange and unusual.
The more aggressive ones were dangerous and untrustworthy.
If he was here with one of his warriors, he would feel more at ease.
They had been traveling for several hours. The female had not complained, not once. He had to admit that it impressed him. The sun was going to set soon.
“We can stop for a few minutes.”
“I can keep going.”
“No need to push yourself. I can smell the campfire. It’s not that far from here.”
She rubbed her nose and took a few deep inhales. “You can smell the fire? I can’t smell anything.”
He took a deep inhalation. A sharp, chemical burning came from the direction straight ahead. He compared it to the dry, resinous wood fires he remembered from home.
“It’s directly ahead.”
Vaelor took a moment to truly look at the female’s face.
Her hair was hidden beneath a covering, denying him any hint of its color or texture, yet it did nothing to disguise the softness of her features.
They were small and delicate—fragile by his standards.
Her complexion carried a pale pink warmth, unlike the natural blue tones of his own people.
It made her seem… warmer. Alive in a way he could not immediately explain.
Her eyes caught him unprepared. They were a light blue unlike any he had ever seen—clear and luminous, as if they held fragments of ice and sky together.
Not the deep, uniform blues of his kind, but something brighter.
More expressive. More intriguing. The thought lingered longer than it should have.
She was… lovely.
And small.
Nearly a full foot shorter than him, her slight frame looked ill-suited for the terrain they had crossed.
He found himself cataloging the ways the world could harm her—sharp stone, sudden cold, wild creatures, the unseen dangers that barely registered to someone of his size.
The realization tightened something unfamiliar in his chest.
She had made it this far without collapsing, and that surprised him.
More than that, it unsettled him. Her endurance did not match her delicate appearance, and without conscious thought, he shifted his stance just enough to place himself between her and the open path ahead. Not as a decision. Not as a duty.
Instinct to protect.
Her.
He glanced away, staring off into the distance. This was a complication he had not expected. An unwelcome one. By the galaxies! He couldn’t afford to have anything or anyone prevent him from his mission. Too many people were counting on him.
The image of his father’s face rose unbidden in his mind.
A great warrior. A fair leader. And far too proud.
His father had believed his judgment superior to all others, his instincts beyond question.
He had refused to turn back, refused to reconsider, convinced that his way was the only way.
The pirates should have been avoided. The losses should never have happened.
Yet his father had chosen action over restraint—desire over duty—and his people had paid for it in blood.
Vaelor had learned then that strength, when paired with pride, could destroy everything it was meant to protect.
He would not repeat that failure.
Whatever pull he felt toward the female—however quiet, however persistent—it was irrelevant. Attachment dulled judgment. Temptation was a luxury leaders could not afford. His father had chosen what he wanted.
Vaelor would choose what was necessary.
Her voice broke through his thoughts.
“Mara Sinclair,” she said. “From Earth.”
The name struck harder than it should have. Mara. Soft, but edged with strength. It lingered in his mind in a way no designation or identifier ever had. Sinclair carried a weight he could not place, and Earth—that fragile, distant world—made her seem suddenly more real. More singular.
For a brief, dangerous moment, she was more than a bothersome female.
She was someone.
Vaelor forced his focus forward, jaw tightening. The vow still stood. It had to. Yet as he turned away, he knew with unsettling certainty that his resolve now carried a flaw—small, invisible, and already spreading.
“Mara Sinclair,” she said. “From Earth.”
She held out a hand, but he ignored it.
The name settled into him before he could stop it. It was softer than he expected, yet it carried a quiet strength, a steadiness that felt… right. He tested it once, silently, then let it pass his lips before caution could intervene.
“Mara.”
The sound of it—rounded, warm—lingered in the air far too long.
Regret followed instantly. Sharp and unwelcome.
Names were anchors. Acknowledgments. He should not have claimed it, even briefly. The moment passed, but the damage was done; the pull he had been fighting tightened, subtle and insidious.
She looked up at him then, curiosity bright in those pale blue eyes. “And you?”
He did not hesitate this time. No titles. No lineage. No invitation.
“Vaelor.”
Nothing more.
Turning his back to her, started walking toward the encampment. She followed but said nothing else. The distance between them was necessary. He had a mission that did not involve a small, blue eyed, alien from a different world. No matter how fascinating he found her.