Blood Memories [Last of Elves book 1] (NaNoWriMo 2014)

Eighteen: Panthera

Panthera

His duels with the captain resumed, but they only made him bored. After all, the human was nowhere near his skill level, and it was child’s play to defeat him – if he’d wanted to.

But he didn’t even want to do that. He was much too careful to keep his talents hidden, not intending for anyone to ever know the extent of his skill with the sword. So instead he tolerated the boredom. He’d memorised the moves of the captain and refined them, making them his own, adding them to his repertoire.

Finally, though, the priestess interrupted the boring days, coming to him just as he finished a round with the captain, as usual ending up disarmed.

The captain noticed her almost immediately, dipping his head to her in respect. Panthera did nothing, barely looking at her as he collected the sword that had spun across the room. He yearned for his own sword, the hilt that fitted his hand perfectly, the balanced weight of the slim blade that made it an extension of his arm.

“If you’ll excuse us, Captain.”

The man nodded, exiting the room. Panthera sighed, leaning the sword against the wall. “What do you want?” He didn’t look at her.

“You really don’t like me, do you.” It wasn’t really a question.

“I’ll give you three guesses as to why.” He shot a glare at her, but she only lifted her chin. “What do you want?”

She sighed. “You seem bored,” she offered forward.

“Funny that,” he muttered, too low for her to hear him, and finally turned to her, meeting her gaze. “And you are going to do what about it?”

He could see her trying to control her anger. She stayed silent for a long time, her thoughts moving in her eyes, but he chose not the read them. Instead, he picked up the sword, running his fingers lightly over the blade, testing the edge. It was nowhere near the standard he was used to, but it was well made for a human blade.

When she finally shifted her feet, he sent her a cocky grin. “Worked out what you want to say yet?”

She glared at him, fury leaping into her eyes. “You arrogant, self-centred, stubborn –”

He rolled his eyes. “Selfish, foolish elf, yes? I’ve heard it before, priestess.”

She closed her mouth with a snap, narrowing her eyes at him. He met the furious gaze without flinching. “Males,” she muttered, making him grin again.

“Are you going to insult me more, or can I go?” He made a mocking bow, exaggerating it to see how much it irritated her. It worked, for she lashed out at him. He caught her wrist, jerking her closer, and her eyes widened, almost in fear. “Careful,” he hissed warningly. “You might not be so lucky next time you insult me.”

She yanked her wrist out of his grip, stepping away with her chin lifted. “You jump to conclusions,” she snapped. He lifted an eyebrow.

“I do, do I?” The sword in his hand began to trace tiny circles in the air with the tip. “And why do you suppose I do that? Never underestimate an elf, girl. We are more cunning than you humans would think.”

She paled slightly, her eyes on the blade, but to her credit, she didn’t back away. “I have a question for you,” she said, almost stiffly, almost arrogantly. He couldn’t decide which.

“And you expect me to answer after that?” He stalked past her, threading his way through the passageways of the temple. He could hear her scurrying to keep up with him, and then shook his head, driving all thoughts of her from his mind.

“Panthera!”

He sighed, rolling his eyes as he turned to glare at her. “What?” he snarled.

“I need to talk to you,” she snapped. “Will you ever listen?”

“To you? Probably not.” He turned his back on her and entered the room that was supposedly his. He didn’t consider it his, but he used it for lack of his own.

To his dismay, she followed him, even onto the balcony.

He refused to look at her as he leant on the railing, watching as the sun set over the still busy town. He heard her sigh heavily, and then a gentle hand tentatively touched his arm.

He didn’t move.

“Panthera, I have a question,” she said quietly. “Will you answer it for me?”

He finally deigned to glance at her, considering. “Depends on the question.”

She scowled at him, but he only lifted an eyebrow, waiting in silence. Finally, she heaved a sigh, and rested her slim hands on the railing, looking down at them. The rings on her fingers glinted in the light of the setting sun, sending flashes through the air.

“Why did I intrigue you?” she asked quietly.

He stayed silent for a long time, thinking about how best to answer her. Finally, he turned, catching her chin in her hands, lifting her head so that she met his eyes.

“You are different,” was all he said before letting her go.