Chapter 27: Respect Among Adversaries

Of all the options presented before us, my answer was to just leave the sleeping beast alone, and maybe it would fly off on its own one day. Others wanted to kill it, and though it seemed cruel, they just wanted to protect their families. Having been recently married myself, with a child on the way, I could understand the sentiment.

Still others wanted to try and wake the monster up, which I thought would be seen as a sign of aggression on our part, and I wasn’t sure that the human race could fight off that Dragon once angered. We had only recently stopped fighting with all the alien races in the new galaxy, and I wasn’t too eager to start another war. But by far, the most dangerous opinion was one that some of the scientists had, one which involved using the monster as an energy source. Guess who won the vote?

“Leon Lurranna… care to tell me why you never mentioned the fact that you are the son of the Emperor?” asked Éclair Hamashe with her arms crossed. Éclair was already slightly peeved at Leon for the other day, so now that she knew he'd been lying to her this whole time, she was beyond furious.

            Leon did have the courtesy to look slightly uncomfortable as he held up his palms in surrender. “I’m sorry, okay. It’s just not that big of a deal. I never told anyone because it’s a little awkward coming clean with the fact that your adopted father is the political enemy of every Elemental in the Empire.”

            Éclair was aghast. “You mean he’s not your real father?”

            “You really think my mother would put up with that pig, or that a man like Chissler would ever be seen having a relationship with an Elemental, especially one from the Lurranna family line.”

            Éclair had to sit down on the chair beside the bed and think things through. After they'd shown the strange man named Kavic to his quarters, Éclair followed Leon back to his room to confront him. What angered her most of all was the fact that he seemed content to pretend it never happened, and everyone just went along with his delusion, no doubt a very subtle hint he gave them all with his telepathy.

Leon’s room was large but simple. Leon himself didn't have many mementos, which struck Éclair as odd since she knew that the Lurrannas must've been a very wealthy family given Leon’s aristocratic mannerisms. The room was pretty bare, with only a tall bed with black sheets, a writing desk with a holo-computer built into it, and a few guest chairs that had been shaped like black swans.

            The only personal items to be found in Leon’s room included a small black rose with a white stem and red thorns that sat in a vase on a shelf over the bed, and a 3-D holo-projection. The projection depicted a family with dark hair and eyes, just like Leon, dressed in noble attire. Obviously, the picture had been taken in the days when Elementals were still allowed to hold noble titles.

There were two adults, whom Éclair assumed were Leon’s parents. In between the adults stood a little boy with glasses, obviously Leon himself, albeit a much happier and more innocent Leon. And then there was one other person standing next to Leon, a little girl holding his hand. Éclair had at first assumed that the girl was Leon’s sister, but the more she glanced at the picture, the more she thought her initial theory to be false.

First of all, the eyes and the nose weren't right. Her eyes were still dark, but more darkish brown than black. And her hair seemed a slightly lighter color than the other Lurrannas. If she wasn’t Leon’s sister, she could have still been a Lurranna. The Lurranna family was a clan after all, and clans are different from families in that they can have hundreds of members, all from different families that share only slight blood relations with one another.

An old custom that went back to prehistorical times on the primitive human homeworld. Apparently, inside a clan, everyone was related somehow. Not directly related, but they were all cousins. That's how the Lurranna clan had been formed; at least, that's what Leon told Éclair. She still didn’t understand it completely, but it didn’t change the way she felt about Leon. What Éclair couldn't figure out was how Chissler fitted into this picture.

            “If Chissler hates Elementals so much, why would he adopt you?”

            “Why do you think? For power.”

            “Power?” repeated Éclair quizzically.

            Éclair feared that she was starting to sound like Ryan with all her ignorant questions, but she couldn’t help herself. She had to know the truth about this mysterious man that had stolen her heart.

            “Yes,” said Leon as he walked to his window, gazing out into the night as if searching for answers from the stars. “Why do you think that Chissler despises Elementals? It’s because they have power that he can never have. So what’s the next best thing if you cannot have the power of Elemency? Control someone who does.”

            Éclair took a step closer to Leon and spoke quietly. “He wanted to turn you into some kind of weapon?”

Leon didn’t reply right away.

Éclair could tell that it must’ve been a painful memory. “If this makes you uncomfortable, then I can leave.”

Éclair turned to leave, but Leon gently took hold of her hand and said. “No, please stay. I want you to know.”

It wasn't lost on Éclair her proximity to Leon at the moment, or the fact that he held her hand.

As if reading her mind, Leon let go of her hand and turned back to the window. “There’s not much to tell, really. Chissler took me in because of my blood. It was all business to him. Never mind the fact that a young boy had just been made an orphan.”

Éclair felt that now would be inappropriate to inquire on his family's fate, so instead she asked him, “What do you mean by blood?”

Leon laughed a little, which surprised Éclair since she'd rarely heard him so much as chuckle. “You don’t know much about my family, do you?”

“Only what you’ve told me.”

How can you expect me to know anything else if you don’t tell me? Why do you have to act so mysterious all the time? I can’t read minds like you can, thought Éclair. 

Then Éclair realized that Leon might've been able to steal those thoughts from her head. She almost blushed, but Leon didn't seem to notice, which seemed a good sign that he wasn’t reading her mind.

“Well, let’s just say that my family had a rather famous, or should I say infamous, reputation for being powerful Elementals. Chissler makes it a matter of pride to ‘acquire’ a choice few Elementals with unique abilities and add them to his ‘collection’.”

Éclair put her hand to her mouth and gasped in astonishment. “You mean to say that the Emperor has Elementals of his own?”

Leon chuckled again like he thought her a stupid little girl. “Of course. He calls them his ‘Elite.’ His own personal bodyguards. They are little more than slaves to him. He selects them at a young age based on their unique lineages and abilities and adopts them before the Ministries have a chance to find them. He brainwashes his Elites into mistrusting all Elementals and nonhumans who ally with them, teaching the Elites that they must be subservient to their ‘Pure-Skinned’ Masters.”

 “That’s horrible,” gasped Éclair, knowing full well the fate of those in bondage. “How many have had to suffer this fate?”

Leon bobbed his head sadly and Éclair finally understood a little of where those sad eyes came from. “Last time I was there, it was ten including myself, but he could have recruited more. As soon as I realized what Chissler was trying to do to me, I escaped. It wasn’t easy. I would have been caught, but someone helped me.”

            “Who?” asked Éclair, a slight amount of emotion seeping into her voice.

            “I don’t know. I never got his name. I only remember a white dog and an old man with green eyes,” replied Leon

            Éclair froze, her eyebrows raised in shock. Leon’s description fitted perfectly with a man from her past, a man that Éclair swore she would never tell anyone about. Éclair tried to practice the training she'd been given by her mother to shut off her mind and keep her thoughts from being stolen, but it proved difficult … especially with Leon.

How can I keep this from him? Him of all people?!

But as much as it hurt Éclair to do so, she had to keep this information from Leon, as much for his sake as for the sake of her old godfather. Éclair prayed to the Caretaker that Leon didn’t notice her panic.

            Sadly, he did. “Éclair, is something wrong?” asked Leon with concern. “You look pale.”

            Éclair’s mother had taught her long ago that the best way to tell a lie was to put a little truth into it. Not to lie outright, but just not to say the whole truth. “I just thought of something embarrassing a few moments ago and I panicked because I realized you might have picked it up.” Éclair blushed, genuinely embarrassed not only by the accuracy of what she told Leon, but from the guilt of keeping secrets from him.

            Leon smiled benevolently and said, “No need for that Éclair. Truth be told, I can’t really read people’s minds.”

            Éclair almost sighed in relief, but for the sake of the deception, she simply said, “What?”

            Leon seemed a little embarrassed himself now as he scratched his lower cheek with his index finger. “I’ve never told anyone this because it's dangerous revealing the weaknesses of your abilities, but I have a hard time reading people’s thoughts. If I concentrate hard enough on a single person for a few seconds, I can sort of tell what they are feeling, but nothing more. I can imprint my own thoughts easily so that I can communicate messages to others, but I haven’t gotten the hang of stealing thoughts. As much as I like to look cool in front of people, the truth is I still have a lot to learn.”

            Éclair felt even more guilty about her secret now that Leon was trusting her with such a dangerous secret of his own. She decided she should leave before he told her anything else that could be used against him. 

On the day that I’m ready to tell you about Starbeard, then I will ask you what happened to your family.

Éclair started backing away slowly to the door. “Leon, thank you for everything you’ve told me. You don’t know how much it means to me. I can understand if you want to be alone to-”

            Éclair heard someone grunt just outside the door. Leon heard it too as he immediately stepped in front of her and waved his hand to make the door dissolve. As the door burst into flames, a person fell through the entrance, a short person who'd been eavesdropping in a very crude manner of espionage.

            “Ryan?” said Leon.

            Éclair had no words.

Ryan quickly got to his feet, dusting himself off with that stupid grin of his. “Hey, guys.”

            “Ryan! You were spying on us!” cried out Éclair, her fists shaking in rage.

            Ryan started turning purple, but that would hardly be enough to save him from his fate. “It’s technically not spying, it’s eavesdropping. There’s a difference, you know.”

            “It’s also called rude, ‘you know’,” said Leon angrily, but not nearly as angry as Éclair.

            Ryan put up his hands nonchalantly. “What do you expect after dropping a bomb like that on us? ‘Oh, by the way, I’m the Emperor’s son. Get over it!’ I was just curious like Éclair.”

            “Ryan!” growled Éclair a little louder than she had intended.

            Now Ryan looked scared, as well he should. He backed away as Éclair took a step forward. “Okay. I can see that I have made a severe error in judgement. Allow me to express my deepest apologies to the both of you for my foolish ways.”

            Éclair had endured enough of his childish attempts at charm and humor as she scowled at him, her hands on her hips. “I’ll give you three seconds,” said Éclair in a terrifyingly quiet voice.

            When Ryan spoke again, he sounded deathly serious. “Thank you. I’ll need it. You are a very fast runner. And on that note…” Ryan raised his finger again as if to say something even more ridiculous, then he bolted.

            Éclair wasn’t about to let him get away that easily as she quickly counted to three in her head before chasing after him while summoning icy mist to her fingertips.

“Are you listening to me, Ryan?” said Eramar tapping his foot impatiently. “Or are you still whining about that little bruise Éclair gave you?”

            “Little bruise!” exclaimed Ryan indignantly, rubbing his face still swollen from Éclair’s right cross. “I barely escaped with my life, and just because I was a little curious. Women! Am I right?”

            “I don’t know why you’re so upset,” sniffed Grafael. “A few bruises are to be expected in a courtship. Why, I even knew a couple that loved each other so dearly that they severed each other’s arms just to prove their undying affection.”

            Ryan’s jaw gaped in disbelief at such a statement. “I feel disturbed on a number of different levels right now.”

            Grafael seemed confused. “What? The battles in love are much the same as the battles in war … at least on Sauria. Is it not the same for humans?”

            “No. Severed limbs are not romantic,” replied the exasperated Ryan.

            “Then what is?”

            “I don’t know,” said Ryan honestly since he'd never given much thought to such girly activities. “Dinner. Movies. Poetry maybe.”

            “You take that back!” roared Grafael, suddenly offended as he hoisted Ryan up by the scruff of his neck with a single hand.

            “What?! What did I say?” cried a terrified Ryan as his feet dangled from the ground.

            “On my world, anyone who dares to call himself a poet is killed on the spot! Such prancing peacocks with their idiosyncrasies, their rhyming, their metaphors, and their nonsensical ways of talking are not welcome on Sauria! Saurians mean what they say, and they say what they mean!”

            “I can see that,” gasped Ryan, finding it difficult to breathe in Grafael's grip.

             “Grafael, please put Ryan down?” asked Eramar calmly.

            As if coming out of a daze, Grafael slowly lowered Ryan to the ground. “I apologize, little one. Such prejudices have long been instilled in me since I was very young. If you wish to offer poetry as a means of courtship, then so be it. However, as you are part Saurian, I would have thought you to have better taste in culture.”

            Ryan rubbed his sore neck. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said, hoping to ingratiate himself back into Grafael’s good graces. “I don’t really get poetry either.”

            “Then we are brothers again,” said Grafael cheerfully as he clapped Ryan on the shoulders so hard he nearly fell over.

            “Yeah … brothers,” said Ryan, now messaging his sore shoulders.

“Alright, that’s enough bromance, ladies,” said Eramar while clasping his hands together. “Grafael, I asked you here because Ryan’s deadline for the exam is approaching and he's not ready yet.”

            “Pshh! Says him,” mumbled Ryan under his breath.

            “Says everyone,” retorted Eramar.

            “Come on, I mean … I did defeat a Level Three Mystic. If you ask my opinion, I’m too strong,” replied Ryan. “I mean, I’m so strong, my muscles are swollen, yo.” Ryan thumped his chest and gave the peace-out sign like he'd seen men do in the holomovies.

            “Me thinks that the only thing swollen is your inflated ego,” commented Grafael with a dry chuckle.

            “I’ll rip your tail off and stuff it down your throat, you big-headed jerk!” retorted a flustered Ryan, puffing up his chest and stepping forward aggressively.

            “I’d like to see you try, foolish human child,” said the Saurian now nose to nose with Ryan, except Grafael had to bend down considerably to do so.

            “I think that’s a good idea,” added Eramar with a smirk.

            “What?” asked Ryan and Grafael simultaneously.

            “The reason I brought Grafael here is to help improve your physical combative skills, Ryan,” replied Eramar. “From what Tork has told me, your power with fire is improving and your skill with the blades is adequate, but your hand-to-hand fighting skills leave something to be desired. Elementals are required to be versed in all fields of combat as a general rule. So, until the time of the exam, you will be training with Grafael in Vok’gar, the Saurian martial art.”

            Grafael grinned at Ryan in a way that made him feel squeamish, like the way a wolf might grin at a sheep.

“Uh, is that such a good idea? I mean, what does punching really have to do with Elemency?”

            “What happened to the vigor that I perceived earlier?” taunted Grafael. “Perhaps the whelp is not as durable as he boasts.”

            “You still haven’t answered my question,” said Ryan, ignoring Grafael.

            “Have you learned so little?” Eramar asked, clutching his eyelids while shaking his head back and forth in defeat. “Elemency is as much an art as the martial arts. To know your body, to have your mind and spirit focused together into one engine … this is the essence of martial arts, and yes, it is also the essence of combative Elemency.

“When you summon the flame element within you, you aren’t just shooting fireballs. You’re releasing a part of your essence - a part of yourself - into those flames. It’s much the same as extending your fist for a punch.”

Eramar demonstrated by punching with his own fist in the air, then a ball of flames appeared from his knuckles and exploded into the air, becoming as large as a house before dissipating.

“When you fight with fire, you must use it as if it’s an extension of yourself, like you use your hands and legs. Do you really expect to be so familiar with the flames if you don't take the time to become familiar with your own limbs?”

            Ryan pointed at the spot where Eramar had released an inferno from his fist. “Can you do that fire punch thing again?”  

Quick as a flash, Eramar swatted Ryan on the top of his head. “Ryan, do you remember what I said your psionic ability was?” The Wielder asked.

Ryan had to think about that one a bit as he licked his upper lip. “I think it was strength, right … since I’m part Earth-Dragon? I think Éclair said that makes me a Beater.”

            “Good. And learning about psionic abilities is still learning about Elemency, right?"

            Ryan shrugged. “Yeah, but aren’t all Elementals already stronger and faster than the average human anyway? So I don’t see what’s so special about being a Physical-Type.”

            Eramar nodded. “You’ve been paying more attention than I gave you credit for. It’s true that the psionic energy coursing through the veins of all Elementals makes them several times more physically fit than normal humans. But only Physical-Types like the Beaters can augment their strength to unprecedented levels. Elementals who aren’t Physical-Types will never be as strong or as fast as you could make yourself. And with your Saurian heritage, that’ll give you even more of an edge over other Physical-Types.”

            Ryan huffed, feeling stubborn as he crossed his arms cynically. “It’s still not as cool as learning how to make a freakin’ fireball as big as a house,” he grumbled. 

            “Hmm. Grafael. Show our dear boy what this ‘not as cool’ psionic ability can do,” ordered Eramar in a slightly playful manner.

            “My pleasure,” said Grafael, crunching his knuckles. When a Saurian cracked his knuckles, the sound that followed was close to that of a gunshot in volume.

            At first, Ryan thought that the Raptor was going to hit him, but then he walked past him to the center of the arena. An iron block made from a dark metal appeared from the floor. The square iron block was at least the size of a tank and made even Grafael look small in comparison.

            Grafael sucked in his breath for a few seconds, assumed a fighting stance like he had in their battle, then punched the block with all his might. Ryan half-expected the block to fly away, and when nothing happened, he almost started laughing. Then he heard a crash and looked back to see a hole twice the size of Grafael appear on the side of the iron block. The force of the blow had been so great that there was an even bigger hole on the other side of it. Grafael stretched his muscles as if he had done nothing more than a small chore.

            “Kiki maka,” cursed Ryan in his nonsense language as he stood dumbfounded. “How did you … what did he do?”

            “It was no trick,” explained Eramar. “He used nothing but his strength, nothing but Physical Elemency to enhance his muscles enough to make a hole in the iron box. The box is bolted down, that’s why it didn’t fly away. Metal is different from stone, so it wouldn’t crumble on the initial impact, but rather fold from the applied force.”

            Ryan eyed Grafael warily. “You mean I can become that powerful with just Physical Elemency.”

            “Well, it is doubtful,” said Grafael. “Saurians are more adept at physical psionic abilities since it is both an inherited trait as well as a psionic trait for us. Even if you are part Saurian, you are still mostly human, and humans rarely become the physical equals of even the weakest Saurians.”

            Ryan had a newfound respect for Grafael. If the Raptor had wanted to, he could have obliterated Ryan in their fight with one punch. “You lied when said you held nothing back in our fight.”

            Grafael looked a little guilty as his head wobbled from side to side. “Not lie, really. Since you used none of your powers against me, I used none of my powers against you. When I fought you, I held nothing back in the field of martial arts without enhancing my physical strength. So technically, as you would say, I did not lie.”

            “I’ll do it,” spoke Ryan quietly.

            “What?”

            “I’ll become your physical equal, and then you and I will fight again with nothing held back,” said Ryan as he met Grafael's slitted eyes.

            Grafael’s body seemed to vibrate with excitement as he grinned manically. “I’ll hold you to that, Ryan Uruks.”

When Eramar told Grafael to take it easy since they were only training, Ryan doubted that the Saurian got the message as he seemed all too happy to pound him into the ground consistently. Ryan was, however, delighted to find out that his body responded much better than the last time he and Grafy had fought. He was steadily getting faster and stronger. His instincts grew sharper too as he predicted many of Grafael’s moves. Ryan wondered if the adrenaline pumping through his blood had been due to that Dragon blood thing that Grafael had told him about.

However, as Ryan’s combative instincts sharpened, he could determine an enemy’s strength better, so he knew that as difficult of an opponent Grafael proved to be, the Raptor still took it easy on him. Grafael was still way out of Ryan’s league, and the guy wasn’t even necessarily the most powerful dude around.

I have to get stronger! If I am to keep my promise to Saria, I have to get stronger! Not just for my sake, but for everyone’s sake so that I can lift my own weight around here and not be a burden to everyone!

It still stung knowing that Leon had saved his life from Hamma Steel. What made it even worse was knowing that there were enemies out there far more powerful than the Mystic, like the Emperor and the Water Minister.

And not to mention, him! Even if Ryan had been able to accept Tork, he had yet to give up on his need for revenge. As deadly as Hamma was, he was an insect compared to the Dark Creature who stole my life from me. If I'm ever to have a chance of killing that monster, whoever he may be, then I have to get stronger!

So even though Grafael was still out of his league … even when Ryan got knocked to the ground from the Raptor’s brutal attacks, he got up and continued fighting. It got harder and harder each time, but Ryan was determined to toughen himself up, even if that meant getting pummeled into the dirt over and over by a Raptor Warrior.

Grafael made a jab at Ryan’s face. Ryan saw the blow coming and countered by side-stepping and catching Grafael’s arm between his fists. A move Tork taught him which - if done properly - could break an attacker’s arm. However, Grafael had been counting on this move. With both hands preoccupied, Ryan sat wide open for a counterstrike, and Grafael didn't hesitate to use it.

With a quick thrust of his other hand, the Saurian caught Ryan in the stomach just as he prepared to put his move into action. WHAM! The pain proved too great! Ryan doubled over clutching his stomach.

Eramar knelt next to Ryan’s crumpled form and gave him some water. “You’re getting better, Ryan, but your defense is still lacking. You focus too much on attack and counterattack. It leaves you wide open for your enemy to deal a decisive blow. You should focus more attention on your midsection between your shoulder and your hips. That's where your defense is the weakest.”

            Ryan was panting. They had been at it for so long that it felt like days instead of hours. Even Grafael looked worried. Underneath his hard exterior, Ryan knew he must be a big softie.

“Don’t you think that's enough for today? The boy’s about to pass out from exhaustion.”

            “Can I take that as your admission of defeat?” asked Ryan from the ground, grinning despite his fatigue.

            “I may not be good at reading humans, but even I can tell that your words hold no truth. You have nothing to prove, Ryan. The exam is still weeks away,” counseled Grafael.

Ryan felt encouraged when liquid beaded the Saurian’s brow. Though reptiles don’t usually sweat, Saurians were different, and they still perspired when tired, as humans do. Ryan had the satisfaction of knowing that he at least fought hard enough to make the Raptor sweat.

            “He’s right, Ryan. No one expects you to master Vok'Gar in a day,” said Eramar, giving Ryan another drink of bottled water.

            “Vok’Gar?” questioned Ryan. “The blood thingy that Graf told us about.”

            “Vok’Gar is more than just a ‘blood thingy’,” countered Grafael with a slight growl. “It is a martial art. A form of fighting that goes back countless millennia in the days of our forefathers. There are many different forms and variations used by my people. The form I have been using is called Cor’lo’mak. It is a well-balanced form meant mainly for defense, but it can have great offensive attributes as well.”

            “Well then, why don’t you teach me this … vomit-guard …core-low-make stuff instead of beating me to a pulp with it?” asked Ryan, groaning slightly.

            “Vok’Gar cannot be taught. It must be learned through experience, and the only way to learn is through nonlethal combat, as we have been practicing. To do so otherwise and to baby you through every step is blasphemy. Anyone who does not learn the ways of martial law will perish. That is the tradition of our people,” explained Grafael, crossing his arms in disdain. “The key to mastering Vok’Gar is not so much a test of knowledge, but more a test of will.”

            “Test of will?” repeated Ryan, a thought occurring to him. Ryan turned to Eramar who glanced away as if Grafael had revealed something important.

I may not be a smartass like Leon, but even I can have an epiphany every once in a while.

            “A test of endurance, that is the nature of Vok’Gar … to determine whether a fighter is worthy of the ancestral blood coursing through his veins,” said Ryan triumphantly.

            Grafael grinned approvingly. “Yes.”

            “And that’s why I shouldn’t listen to you guys when you say it’s time to quit.”

            Grafael nodded.

            Eramar sighed. “You practically gave him the answer, nimrod.”

            Ryan turned on Eramar indignantly. “He did not! I figured it out way before he said anything.”

            Eramar grumbled something like, “That would take brain power.”

With his hands against his knees to steady himself, Ryan finally rose to his feet to continue fighting. Then, he heard a familiar voice that gave him cause for alarm.

            “Mind if I observe from the sidelines?” asked Viceroy Kavic, almost appearing out of thin air.

            Ryan wondered when David Kavic had even shown up.

Eramar had been so distracted that he didn’t even sense Kavic walk up behind them. Either I’m losing my edge, or this guy has the subtlety of an assassin. Neither possibility is pleasant to consider. 

“I thought that Leon was looking after you today?”

            “I was touring the grounds when I saw you training with young Ryan, here,” replied Kavic pleasantly. “I asked if I could watch and Leon agreed. It’s a rare treat for someone like me to observe the rights of passage for the Elementals, especially such a promising prospect like Ryan Uruks.”

            “I don’t know what your game is, pal,” cautioned Ryan, backing away defensively. “But I’m on to your little scheme. Your mind games won’t work on this cage of steel.” Ryan tapped his head, turned back to Grafael, and tripped under his own feet.

Eramar held his head in pain from the display of clumsiness. If anything, Ryan will go down in history as the clumsiest Elemental to ever live.

            Ryan got up and quickly dusted himself off as Kavic burst into a fit of laughter. It wasn’t a cruel, mocking laugh, but more mirthful and innocent, like a child’s laugh.

            Kavic brushed a tear from his eye before saying, “Ryan, you are a mystery to me. I cannot figure out if you are as sincere and naïve as you seem to be, or if you are a mad genius in the making. One minute as mischievous as a child, the next minute as powerful as a king. May I live a thousand years and never fully understand you.”

            Again, he spoke in such a way that seemed so sincere, and yet so mysterious at the same time. Ryan, the little idiot, started turning a slight shade of purple from the compliment, completely forgetting his suspicion of Kavic.

            “Well,” said Ryan, scratching his chin. “I guess you can stay and watch me pummel Grafy. As long as Eramar doesn’t have a problem with it?”

            Eramar studied Kavic for a few minutes, trying to sense something from him. As always, the man could’ve been a stone wall for all the good that came from trying to read him. Eramar didn't see the harm in letting the man stay, even if he was a spy. Besides, it would let him keep an eye on their clever little guest. Eramar nodded to Grafael and Ryan.

            As they walked back to their positions at the center of the arena, Eramar heard Grafael grumble under his breath, “Pummel me, eh? Little charlatan!”

            As the two began exchanging blows again, Eramar took the opportunity to grill Kavic. “What’s your real game, Kavic? What is it that the Emperor hopes to gain by leaving you here with us?”

Kavic took in a deep breath before answering. “I am merely a means to an end. Right now, part of that means is observing the Ministry of Fire, so I will do so to the best of my ability.”

Another answer that seemed honest, but still left a lot of gaps. “Well, forgive me if I seem suspicious. Noble spies sent by the Emperor tend to have that effect on me.”

Kavic’s face remained blank. “If you know I am a spy, then it doesn’t really make me a threat, does it? However, you are wise to keep your guard up in my presence. I would treat you the same if our positions were reversed, so I do not blame you for your inhibitions. You would hardly be a tactician, otherwise.”

“You should know that flattery doesn't work so well with me as it does with Grunts,” said Eramar, getting annoyed by Kavic’s sincere face.

Why would Chissler send a man who is honest about being dishonest?

            Kavic actually grinned a little before saying, “How do you know it’s flattery? How do you know that I am not this pleasant to be around all the time?”

            “Because no one is that polite all the time,” replied Eramar. “Unless, of course, they have something to hide.”

            “Well, I am not denying that I have things to hide, as well as you do. However, that is not the reason for my mannerisms,” replied Kavic without even a trace of annoyance or hostility in his voice.

            “Then what is?” asked Eramar, hoping to get a straight answer for once.

            “It’s how I was raised,” said Kavic wearily, the first time Eramar detected any emotion from the man. “In the elder days, there was an ancient tribe that lived by a code. The code stated, ‘foe one day, friend another.’ Despite how it may sound to you and me, it is not a prelude to paranoia; quite the contrary, in fact. For the ancient tribes, it meant that loyalties change day by day, but we are all still people, and therefore, we can still understand one another to some capacity. It is a covenant to treat every sentient being with courtesy and respect, whether they be friend or foe.”

            “Respect among adversaries … from the Riverdon philosophies, I believe,” reflected Eramar.

            If I remember correctly, that is a doctrine adopted by the Reptilians. One of the Dragon races that was said to be cousins of the Saurians. But instead of valuing warfare, the Reptilians valued knowledge, science, art, and culture. A peaceful people that contributed much to the greater universe … that is until they were destroyed many millennia ago. I don’t quite remember the details of their demise, but I know it was horrific.

“Exactly,” continued Kavic, drawing Eramar from his momentary thought processes. “You know your histories well. No doubt you know that it is an ancient teaching of the long-dead Reptilians, the gentler brothers of the Saurians. Though they are gone, there are some who remember their peaceful ways.

“I was taught by one such individual that respect and courtesy are the most important aspects in every negotiation. Whether or not such courtesies are returned is irrelevant. Even though you and I find ourselves on opposing sides, there is no reason that we cannot behave civilly … at least for the time being.”

Again, Eramar knew that Kavic told the truth, but not necessarily all the truth. Rather than confront him about it, Eramar chose a different tactic. “When I found you kneeling in your room, was that also a part of your upbringing?”

“No, that is a fairly recent habit,” replied Kavic, looking a little uncomfortable now as he glanced down and massaged his hands. “Truth be told, I’m not so sure about it myself, but I found a text in an old temple pertaining to an ancient religion that speaks of strengthening the bonds of friendship and loyalty between family members and lovers. One of the requirements is kneeling amidst a room full of candles and praying for the loved one you wish to be closer to.”

Despite his best efforts, Eramar started to empathize with Kavic. It didn't mean that he trusted him, but Kavic was right, there could be respect among enemies. Eramar had lived long enough to know that.

“If I may ask, who do you wish to be closer to?” When Kavic failed to respond, Eramar quickly said, “You don't have to tell me if you don't wish to. Forgive me for prying. It isn't pertinent to our conversation.”

“No, it’s alright, I don’t mind telling you,” said Kavic quietly, seeming equal parts sad and hopeful. “The person I was praying for was my father.”