10 Ego
Ego
Pillars of light shone through the high windows of the sparring hall, catching specks of dust as it drifted through the open space.
Vaelira sat at the edge of the room, rubbing her thigh where a man had struck her moments ago.
He was short but terrifyingly strong. She, of all people, should have known better than to judge someone by their height alone.
The blow had taken her legs out from under her, and she’d limped to the bench to lick her wounds. It was going to bruise.
After a week of training, every muscle in Vaelira’s body ached. She hadn’t the time for anything other than her scheduled lessons, eating, and collapsing in bed each night, and she cursed herself for not having trained harder back in Anhaven.
She had learned nothing new in demon lore that piqued her interest, with no mention of possession or anything remotely like it. It was all a rehashing of what she already knew, and by the grumbling of fellow recruits, she clearly wasn’t the only one who had heard the information before.
Someone dropped down heavily on the bench beside her. Vaelira turned to see a woman with cropped black hair and a tattoo curling up the side of her neck. Her dark skin glinted with sweat.
“I’m Ressa,” the woman said between breaths.
“Vaelira.”
On a nearby mat, a man with red-brown hair was sparring with a scrappy-looking woman. The woman swung a sharp kick towards his chest, but he caught her ankle and twisted, sending her spinning to the ground. He was one of the tallest men Vaelira had ever seen. That kick was never going to land.
“You weren’t at orientation,” Ressa said.
“I wasn’t,” Vaelira said, eyes on the match.
The scrappy woman hit the mat with a loud thud, pinned instantly. She tapped out.
“How come?” Ressa asked. Vaelira glanced at her, but Ressa was already watching the man striding towards them.
Vaelira sighed. She hadn’t been in the mood for conversation since she’d arrived, and so far, most people had respected that. “I came up from Anhaven. It took a few days.”
Master Kolborn stepped forward to announce the next match. The man reminded Vaelira of Jurah, only Kolborn was a decade or two younger, and missing any of the warmth of the Commander.
“Anhaven?” said the red-brown haired man. He held out a fist to Ressa, who met it with her own. He crossed his muscular arms. They were so broad it was almost ridiculous.
The woman he’d been sparring with came up behind him, her face twisted with anger. She shoved him hard, but he barely moved.
“Demonfucker,” she muttered under her breath, stalking away.
Vaelira’s head snapped up. To utter such a disgusting insult over something as simple as losing a sparring match was unacceptable.
The woman went flying forward, her face smashing into the ground with a loud smack. She whimpered, then pushed herself up, glaring once at Vaelira before scampering out of the training room.
Vaelira wasn’t sure why she’d done it, but she had stuck out her leg and tripped the woman before she’d really thought it through.
“Damn,” Ressa said.
Vaelira shrugged. “Nothing worse than a sore loser.”
The man chuckled deeply and sat between them. “I’m Fang,” he said, flashing Vaelira a grin. Faded freckles dusted the pale skin of his nose and cheeks.
“No, you’re not,” Ressa said. Vaelira could hear her eyes roll, even if she couldn’t see around the mountain of muscle and mop of copper hair.
“Hey, it’s a cool name,” said Fang.
“No, it’s not.”
Vaelira couldn’t resist the smile that crept onto her lips. “What’s your real name?”
He leaned back with a theatrical sigh. “Clivor.”
Vaelira snorted. “I see why you’d want to change it.”
Ressa broke into a fit of laughter.
Fang huffed, arms crossing over his chest as he stared ahead at the next match. Ressa leaned forward, her face popping out from behind him.
“You really don’t come from here?”
Vaelira shook her head. “Born and raised in Anhaven. Last week was the first time I left.”
Ressa seemed to consider that for a moment. “Interesting.”
Fang shrugged. “What’s so interesting about that?”
“When have you ever heard of a Caerthalyn recruit coming from anywhere other than Caerthalyn?” Ressa asked.
“I don’t know. I never thought about it.”
Ressa rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised?” She turned back to Vaelira. “They pretty much exclusively recruit from the capital.”
“Makes sense,” Vaelira mused. “If you grew up here, you probably have family and friends nearby. You’d have more incentive to keep it safe.”
Ressa nodded. “My father is an instructor at the academy. He’s been training me since I was ten.”
Vaelira blinked. “That’s intense.” She’d heard people around the barracks talking about the academy, but she’d only caught snippets of conversation.
Ressa shrugged. “It hasn’t given me much of an edge here. Most join the academy at twelve and take the trial after six years of training.”
That explained a few things. Her thigh twinged in answer.
“Is that what you did?” Vaelira asked Fang.
“Nah,” he said. “My parents own a bookshop. I’m not about that life, though. At recruit trials, I accidentally knocked out my opponent with my first strike. Guess they were impressed.”
“Figures,” Ressa muttered. Then she stiffened. Her eyes widened as she looked over Vaelira’s shoulder. “Woah. Who is that?”
Vaelira turned, her gaze snagging on a figure in the doorway. Her heart stopped.
Eli leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and one ankle hooked over the other. His dark, tousled hair was pushed back, and his even darker eyes scanned the room. He wore the same black trousers and fitted tunic as the rest of them, but he wore it differently, with more power and authority.
Vaelira’s heart skipped a beat. She had looked for him during the first few days of training but quickly learned that only recruits lived in the barracks.
Full members of the Royal Guard moved into the Southwest Wing before getting their own place in the city.
He’d brought her here with the promise of answers, then disappeared without giving her a way to contact him. Heat prickled in her palms.
Eli’s gaze found hers and a chill slipped down her spine. Part rage, and part something she didn’t want to name.
“He’s coming over here,” Ressa whispered.
The bench creaked as Fang leant forward. “I think I’ve seen him before.”
Vaelira took a steadying breath. “He’s a senior member of the Royal Guard,” she said, swallowing hard. “I don’t know what his official rank is though.”
“You know him?” Ressa said, stunned.
Fang hummed. “Yeah, that must be it. What’s his name again?”
Vaelira’s mouth opened but she closed it as Eli stepped in front of her.
“Did you miss me?” he said, flashing a grin.
“Not particularly.” She leaned back, doing her best to feign indifference.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said to the others. “I’m a dear friend of Vaelira’s, and I need to borrow her for a moment.”
Vaelira shot him a look. His grin faded and his eyes darkened.
“Fine,” she said, pushing up from the bench and following him to a quiet corner of the room.
“How have you been?” he said softly.
“Like you care.”
“I just asked, didn’t I?”
“What do you want?”
“What gives you the impression I want something?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she narrowed her eyes. “Maybe you showing up in the middle of my sparring session after a week of silence and dragging me to a suspiciously secluded corner?”
He smirked. “You didn’t look busy.”
“I don’t have time for this.” She turned away but Eli caught her wrist.
She spun, grabbing his own wrist as she raised her hand. She twisted, letting her hips drive the momentum. His arm bent at an awkward angle, and she let go, sending him stumbling into the wall.
Ressa was gaping at her from across the hall.
Eli laughed.
She whirled. “What is your problem?”
“I don’t have one,” he said, rubbing his wrist. “That was quite a move.”
“Yeah? I’ve got plenty more.”
His brow lifted. “Okay.”
“What do you mean, okay?”
“You’ve clearly got some things to work out.” He crossed his arms. “Work them out on me.”
She shouldn’t. She couldn’t. Her move had only worked because she’d surprised him. A triumphant look swept over his face, and her anger flared. “Let’s go.”
A hush passed through the hall as they stepped onto a vacant mat. Whispers followed. Eli either didn’t seem to notice or didn’t care. Maybe this wasn’t the first time he’d challenged a recruit.
Vaelira wiped her palms on her trousers, her heart hammering. Why was she doing this again?
A few feet across from her Eli tilted his head, his eyes dancing. His lips curled up at the corners.
Oh yeah. That.
She lunged, hoping to catch him off guard, but he sidestepped easily, and landed a sharp blow to her shoulder. She clenched her jaw, keeping her balance as she turned. He stood with his hands loose at his sides, his breathing even. She hissed between her teeth.
“Come now,” he said smoothly. “I thought you had more moves?”
She lunged again, reaching for his waist. He caught her before she made contact, his hands firm on her shoulders. She knocked his hands away, tucked her head, and dove for his legs, but he stepped back lazily.
She felt a hand on the back of her neck and she was falling. She grabbed his ankle in a final effort, and they hit the mat together. Vaelira groaned and rolled onto her back.
Eli was on her. He pinned her wrists over her head, knees straddling her hips. His weight pushed down, his hair falling forward as he leaned in.
“Not a bad attempt,” he said, grinning.
She raised an eyebrow. “You really think so?”
“I mean, it’s n—”
She bucked her hips and pulled her wrists down hard, breaking his grip.
He fell forward and she grabbed him around the waist, climbing up his solid frame and wrapping her arm around his bicep.
She flung up her other arm and pushed into his shoulder, flipping him onto his back.
She rolled with him, dug a knee into his inner thigh, and pinned his wrists. The move took only a matter of seconds.
Leaning close, she tilted her head. “Sorry about that,” she said, breathless. “What were you saying?”
His grin widened. “Not bad.”
“Not bad?” she laughed. “I’ve got you.”
They were so close she could feel his breath on her lips.
“I’ll remember not to go easy on you next time,” he said softly.
She wanted to scoff, but his eyes held her. His gaze dropped to her lips, and she watched transfixed as he drew his lower one between his teeth, a single sharp canine piercing into the flesh. Heat pooled low in her stomach.
Footsteps thundered down the hall and Vaelira dragged her eyes away. Two men in blue uniforms rushed into the room.
“Your Highness!” one of them called.
Everything stilled.
Vaelira felt Eli sigh beneath her.
“I said I wasn’t to be disturbed,” he said flatly.
Vaelira looked down at him, then to the messenger, and down again. His gaze met hers.
She was suddenly all too aware of how close they were. Her hands on his wrists. Her chest pressed into his. Her knee so close to…
She scrambled off him, backing away quickly.
One of the messengers stuttered out an apology. Eli waved it off and stood, brushing off his clothes. “What do you want?” he asked.
Ressa let out a low whistle. “Well, that explains the ego.”