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

Thirty-Nine: Panthera

Panthera

He spent more time with his sister than he did with the priestess, and even with the captain, duelling. He wanted nothing to hurt her, nothing to harm her, and if he wasn’t there, then that could happen. At first, she enjoyed being close to him once more, enjoyed the routines that they quickly and simply fell into, even after years of being apart.

She’d grown so much. She was wiser now, but had grown into her full beauty. The silver threads twined and threaded throughout her hair, as their mother would have taught her. The symbol of their close bond with the earth, and the sign of their heritage.

They were elves.

Eventually, as he knew she would, she began to grow tired of his company, snapping at him, becoming grumpy and irritable. He only riled her further, teasing and annoying her constantly.

“Ali, please! Shut up!”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair. “But why?” he asked innocently. “It is so much fun.”

She glared at him out of the same eyes that he had. Dark blue, only another indication of their shared heritage. Reading the expression in the blue depths, he shut his mouth, saving his other remarks for another time. She sighed in relief, and leant her head back, closing her eyes.

“Finally. Thank you. Do you do anything else, here?”

He lifted a shoulder. “The priestess responds much the same as you,” he said lightly. “She’s kept me in practice.”

She snorted, amused. “Please, Ali. You can go. You don’t need to stay with me all the time. I’m older now. I can take care of myself.”

He hesitated, but stood up with a sigh. “If you’re sure.”

“Ali, I’m older now. I’m not a baby.”

He reached over, tugging her hair. “But you’re my baby sister,” he answered.

“Just go, Ali,” she muttered. “I want to be alone.”

He nodded. “Be careful of the priestess, Kura,” he warned as he left, closing the door behind him.

Bored, he roamed the passageways, and ended up outside the large room that he normally met the captain in. Hearing sounds from inside it, he stopped at the entrance, leaning against the doorway, and watched.

It was the priestess, her dagger flashing in the firelight as she spun and twirled with the captain, his sword glinting as he blocked and parried with her. For once, her hair was simply arranged, just caught back at the nape of her neck, and her cloak had been thrown to the side of the room, freeing her arms.

Both were skilled, but as he watched, Panthera began to pick apart her technique, picking up her mistakes before she made them. She was growing tired, her movements sloppy, and he wasn’t surprised at all when the captain caught her off her guard, knocking the jewelled dagger out of her hand.

She only sighed, bending to pick it up.

“Thank you, Captain.”

The man inclined his head towards her, and brushed past the elf as he left, not acknowledging him whatsoever. The dislike was returned.

She turned to see him there, and shock flashed through the dark brown eyes, so like his own, yet not.

“What are you doing here?”

He lifted a shoulder, not moving from his rather comfortable spot at the door. “Who cares?”

“Got bored of her, did you?” she nearly spat at him, and made to push past him, turning her head away from him.

“Just you wait,” he snapped, grabbing her arm and pulling her back. She fought him, the dagger getting dangerously close to his face. Finally, he grabbed her wrists, holding her still. “Look at me.”

She refused, and he knew that she was hiding something.

He risked letting go of one wrist to lift her chin. “Look at me,” he repeated, softer. “What are you talking about?”

She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip just enough that she couldn’t.

“Tell me.”

She shook her head slightly, and he backed her against the wall.

“Go on.”

She closed her eyes, and this time when she tried to pull away from him, he let her go. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Because I’m an elf?” he retorted scornfully. Anger darkened his eyes, and he turned his back on her. “Fine.” He left her before she could respond, and it took a few moments before he heard her hurrying after him.

“Panthera!”

He didn’t stop.

“Panthera, please!”

He turned on her, scowling. “After that?” he demanded. “I think not. Work out your emotions, priestess.” He sneered at her title, and stalked off.

Thankfully, she didn’t follow him.