Sometime later

  Aboard Yutvru Habitat-Elder Glandis' Dominion

  A thin guard, thin by yautja standards, exits the door to Elder Glandis’ meeting chamber and motions N-Vorl inside. Exhaling deeply, N-Vorl strides semi-confidently towards the other yautja and the room beyond.

  He has never been particularly close to Elder Glandis—his uncle. The shame brought about by N’bril’s fall from grace seems to have exacerbated the already existing rift between elder and nephew. Glandis shows very little patience when dealing with him.

  A nagging suspicion at the back of N-Vorl’s mind is that his uncle fears he will try to seize power. Perhaps through a covert and violent coup. Such uprisings are not new to the yautja. In fact, many in the Fihgi Clan are transplants from the Nilyautha Clan. Absorbed into the Fihgi after many cycles of war with other clans diminished both of their numbers.

  Not only would a coup be reckless, it would be utterly impossible for N-Vorl to pull off. After several cycles of a season serving as a cultivator, N-Vorl has lost any standing amongst his hunter brothers and sisters. Even after the victory at Yultimavo, many yautja still refuse to meet his eye. Females seem especially confused, both wanting and simultaneously being revolted by him.

  N-Vorl strolls to just in front of the grand table at the center of Glandis’ wide and elaborate meeting chamber. N-Vorl bows his head respectfully and keeps his head low as he glances up at his leader.

  “Esteemed Elder, I wish to have an audience with you,” N-Vorl explains in a strong but deferential tone.

  “As I have been told,” Glandis intones, a bitter tinge to his words. “What has brought you to my chamber, youngblood? Speak it. I have more pressing matters to attend to.”

  N-Vorl straightens up and eyes his warrior uncle with hardened eyes. The tall guard from the entrance comes to stand beside Elder Glandis. He watches N-Vorl with narrowed gray eyes. N-Vorl feels as if he has seen this hunter before, searching his mind for the exact time.

  “Elder, I have been on Yutvru for nearly four seasons now. I left behind my family—and my lover...So that I might join your battle contingent. I have waited patiently for word on your decision. I only come to you now…To ask this of you again.”

  The guard beside Elder Glandis leans and whispers into his leader’s ear. Glandis’ brow crinkles. Otherwise, he shows no reaction to what is said. Peering across the large table at N-Vorl, Elder Glandis offers his nephew a snide smirk.

  “Are you a childling, N-Vorl?” Elder Glandis questions mockingly.

  In the far right corner, Curzu chuffs loudly. Kiryzif, in the opposite corner, simply crosses his arms over his barrel chest and glowers in N-Vorl’s direction. The guard at Elder Glandis’ side merely smiles. N-Vorl’s blood runs cold in his veins and he inhales sharply.

  “No, Elder…I am not!” N-Vorl answers as forcefully as he dares.

  “Good!” Elder Glandis replies coldly. “Leaving behind one’s family….Is almost nearly a fact of life. We hunters must do it every time we go out to battle the enemy. Leaving your family does not qualify you to serve in my battle group. Even with one such as yours.”

  Curzu chuffs a second time and the guard by Elder Glandis’ side shoots him a smoldering look. This shuts the instigating hunter up and he repositions himself to stand a little straighter. Elder Glandis continues his tirade in a level tone, mockery dripping off of every syllable.

  “And as for your lover, N-Vorl…Did she not love another?”

  At this, even the guard beside Elder Glandis drops his gaze. N-Vorl tries his best to appear nonplussed.

  “Yes, Elder!”

  “And why was that?” Glandis presses, glorifying in N-Vorl’s misery.

  “She could not see past my father’s shame,” N-Vorl admits, clenching a fist behind his back. “She no longer viewed me as a true yautja…For casting off my warrior creed in loyalty to my father…And to her. She wanted one who could be true. One who was not split by indecision.”

  Elder Glandis leans forward, pressing his elbows onto the surface of the metal table and intertwining the fingers of both hands.

  “Then, why should I see anything different?”

  N-Vorl’s body begins to quake with growing agitation and anger. The yautja beside Elder Glandis; whom N-Vorl suspects is the famed Nilyauthan hunter, Mau-Nis, watches him with marked attention.

  “What of Yultimavo? Did I not defeat a serpent queen? Did I not bring glory to you, honored uncle? And to our clan?”

  Unclasping his fingers, Elder Glandis slams a large fist upon the table. N-Vorl’s mouth clamps shut and he stands erect, eyes searching his uncle’s angry face.

  “Yultimavo? And did you defeat this serpent queen…All by yourself?” Glandis growls in a deep, cryptic tone.

  N-Vorl releases a sigh and slightly lowers his gaze. The plan to defeat the serpent queen of yultimavo had been a good one. His plan. But at every turn, it has backfired. It is not unheard of for yautja to hunt as a team. However, rumors that N-Vorl may have murdered Hunt Leader Luusen began to circulate soon after their glorious victory. Probably, stoked by Curzu or Kiryzif. N-Vorl's ingenious battle plan had quickly spiraled into a conspiracy to cover an assumed misdeed.

  “No, Elder! I did not.”

  “Did you not defeat the serpent mother with the aid of a team?”

  “Yes, Elder.”

  “If memory serves me…It was Luusen’s battle stick which helped you to slay many serpents. And Binyolsir’s plan to use the hard meat’s skin to disrupt their vision. Am I correct, youngblood?”

  “You are correct, Elder,” N-Vorl says, sinking further and further into self-recrimination.

  “Without the aid of Curzu and Kiryzif…You would be as dead as Luusen!” Elder Glandis roars. “You are not the warrior you believe yourself to be! Binyolsir….Was one of my best hunters. There will never be another such as him. You will not be given a place in my battle group until you have earned it. Or until I have a need for one such as you. I will say no more on the matter.”

  N-Vorl lowers his head in deference and backs away a few steps. Raising his head, N-Vorl manages to catch the eye of Elder Glandis’ second-in-command. The thin guard is still watching him with suspicion. Nodding to the guard as well, N-Vorl turns on his heels and marches away. Behind him, Elder Glandis speaks in a hushed tone.

  “What do you think, Mau-Nis?”

  “I think there may be trouble,” Mau-Nis replies. “He should be watched very carefully.”

  N-Vorl’s chest tightens and his mandibles flare open. He exits Glandis’ meeting chamber in an unspeakable rage.

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  -

  -

  Many cycles later

  N-Vorl stands silent guard in front of the entrance to the weapons storage wing of Elder Glandis’ expansive habitat. A male hunter and his female companion are approaching at a slow gait. N-Vorl smiles wistfully as he recognizes them both.

  The male hunter, P’taal, received his blooding on the Isle of Ravaar’nak—a former rogue prison settlement. From what N-Vorl has heard, P’taal slay more than three dozen ghkivu hybrids with only his caster and combistick. No small feat. The ghkivu is normally found only in watery places. However, on the Isle of Ravaar’nak, ghkivu hybrids have evolved to live on both land and water—after many seasons of their ancestors serving as hosts for the dreaded black serpents. Plasmacasters are nearly useless underwater. If a ghkivu is able to drag a hunter into the depths, it is almost an assured death.

  The female hunter, Yuljunu, is one N-Vorl has had his eye on for many seasons now. A guard in Glandis’ contingent, Yuljunu is fierce—but extremely female. Her scent is truly intoxicating, sometimes causing N-Vorl to feel dizzy and lose focus. He is certain that is why P’taal is never far from Yuljunu’s side. What are big brother’s for? Well, half-brother.

  “Hello, Yuljunu!” N-Vorl says as the two hunters approach.

  N-Vorl offers Yuljunu his kindest smile. Yuljunu returns his smile with a wide grin, her sharpened teeth glistening in the light.

  “Hello, N-Vorl! Weapons today? Not Research and Development? My how you move around!” Yuljunu gently teases.

  N-Vorl can’t help but notice the tense expression on P’taal’s face as Yuljunu walks over to N-Vorl and offers him her hand palm up. N-Vorl takes Yuljunu’s hand and lightly kisses her palm.

  “Yes,” N-Vorl says, giving Yuljunu a sly glance. “The elder likes to keep me busy. If I were not…I might find other things to do.”

  Yuljunu laughs loudly, but P’taal bristles. N-Vorl decides it might be better to tone down his antics. He releases Yuljuna’s hand and takes a step back.

  “We are going to the hall for evening meal,” Yuljunu says, a grin tugging at her mouthparts. “You will join us…Once you are relieved here?”

  N-Vorl glances askance at P’taal before offering his reply, mandibles spreading wide.

  “Of course.”

  Yuljunu nods and strolls away. P’taal follows behind her at a steady pace. He only glances over his shoulder once, to glower at N-Vorl. But once, is enough. N-Vorl returns P’taal’s ire with a wide grin.

  -

  -

  The Eating Hall

  N-Vorl enters the expansive dining hall and searches for P’taal and Yuljunu. He finds them at a small circular table near the back of the enormous room. N-Vorl heads for the table as if there are wings on his feet. In his state of mental elation, N-Vorl does not see the large warrior intersecting his path, until he nearly plows into him. Both hunters stand absolutely still, sizing each other up. It is the second warrior who finally breaks the silence and shifts his gaze.

  “Watch where you are walking, cultivator!” the second warrior bellows.

  N-Vorl remains silent. Stepping closer into the other hunter’s personal space, N-Vorl lightly touches Luusen’s combistick on his belt. The offending hunter’s eyes wander to where N-Vorl’s hand is resting and his brow creases.

  “Are you threatening me, cultivator’s son? I am a member of Elder Glandis’ elite battle group. One of his blood-sworn protectors. There are severe punishments for such transgressions.”

  N-Vorl exhales deeply and blinks both eyes in a bored fashion. He peers over at Yuljunu, who has risen from her spot at the table, observing the disagreement from afar.

  “I have no need to threaten you,” N-Vorl growls. “Your fear is evident in the fact that you cannot even look me in the eye.”

  The second yautja growls and bares his teeth in a sign of aggression. N-Vorl merely smiles. As the other hunter angrily ejects his wrist blade, two more appear at his neck. Surprised, the warrior turns to see who has dared draw down on him. Yuljunu fixes the bewildered hunter with a hateful stare.

  “What do you think you are doing, Kradha?” Yuljunu challenges the much larger hunter. “You may be one of Elder Glandis’ chosen…But N-Vorl is still the blood kin of an elder. Your actions bring shame.”

  Kradha looks as if he wishes to speak, but decides against it. He shoots N-Vorl one final glare before going about his business. Yuljunu turns to N-Vorl and retracts her wrist blade.

  “You should be more careful, N-Vorl!” she teases. “Come, let us eat.”

  -

  -

  23 days later

  Yuljunu leans out over the balcony of the great hall. Yautja of all shapes, sizes, ages, titles, and ranks mill about the square below. There is one face which Yuljunu continually searches for, but cannot find. A pair of hands covers Yuljunu’s eyes and she issues a tiny gasp. N-Vorl does his best to disguise his voice.

  “Who dares to shut the eyes of the mighty Yuljunu?” N-Vorl says. He chuckles softly, nearly giving himself away.

  “Who would dare? I know of only one?” Yuljunu responds with a growing smile.

  N-Vorl removes his hands from Yuljunu’s eyes and reaches for her right hand. He spins her gently to face him. Cupping the left side of Yuljunu’s face, N-Vorl offers the fierce female his biggest smile.

  “Where is P’taal? So that he may protect you from my accursed wiles?”

  Yuljunu’s eyes flutter briefly shut as she bursts into laughter. She lightly brushes a hand down N-Vorl's back.

  “He is in training for another hunt. As you should be, N-Vorl!”

  “Aha. But I have already completed my training for today. I’m an early riser. I had hoped to catch you alone.”

  “Oh,” Yuljunu utters, suddenly weary. “Why?”

  “So that I may give you this!”

  N-Vorl reaches into a pouch on his implement belt and removes a small vial. Inside the vial is a pale purple liquid. He places it into the center of Yuljunu’s left hand. She inspects the liquid inside, by holding it up to the light. She lowers the vial and twists her mouth into a questioning grimace.

  “What is it?”

  “Essence of chruksh,” N-Vorl says confidently.

  Yuljunu’s brow creases and she shakes her head disapprovingly.

  “As a cultivator…Uh…Former cultivator,” Yuljunu says, faltering. “I would expect you to know that Chruskh Elixir is red….Not purple.”

  “No…You are remembering the way it has been for many cycles of a season...The way it was in the beginning…When our kind first discovered its uses. Have you not read the ancient texts? The vial I have given to you…I simply tweaked the formula to be more in line with what our kind was used to mere cycles ago. It was I who altered the 4,000 vials sent to Elder-Apparent Eflirus…Not long after the clan’s split. He requested it should remain that way. And others have followed suit. Such was the strength and potency of the elixirs I created. With his victory at Edros, I unwittingly gained an ally,” N-Vorl replies cryptically.

  Yuljunu stares at the vial a second longer, and then places it gently in a compartment on her belt. N-Vorl watches her hands as they go to her hips. His eyes take in every inch of her form from head to toe. The skirt and sleeveless garment under Yuljunu’s mesh suit do little to hide her natural suppleness. How he would love to make many descendants with this female warrior.

  “Come, let us sit,” Yuljunu says, pointing to a stone bench a few yards away.

  N-Vorl follows his intended lover to the bench. He allows her to sit before dropping down on the other end. There is an awkward silence as each hunter searches for the right thing to say. They begin speaking at almost the exact same time. N-Vorl clamps his mouth shut and nods for Yuljunu to go first.

  “I was told you are returning to your home. To see your mother…And your father,” Yuljunu says in a quiet voice. “It is just to visit, I hope.”

  N-Vorl’s heart leaps in his chest and he once again takes Yuljunu’s hand, emboldened by her openness.

  “Yes. My mother has fallen gravely ill, and so have many others. They need my knowledge of the chruksh…And other potions…In order to combat their affliction and keep up production. I will return as soon as I am able.”

  “You mean…You're not going back for her?” Yuljunu says, a touch of envy in her voice.

  “Baileinakh and I are a thing of the past,” N-Vorl proclaims. “I am looking to the future.”

  Cupping Yuljunu’s face in his large hands, N-Vorl brushes his cheek against hers. A tremor courses Yuljunu’s body and she closes her eyes tightly. N-Vorl repeats the action. He lowers his right hand to the small of Yuljunu’s back. Yuljunu’s eyes shoot open and she withdraws, shaking her head energetically.

  “No, N-Vorl! There is something I must tell you!”

  Every liter of N-Vorl’s blood suddenly turns cold. He has heard such an objection before. Yuljunu’s eyes search N-Vorl’s face.

  “Don’t be angry with me, N-Vorl! It has nothing to do with you. It is only your timing,” Yuljunu insists. “It was Curzu who brought me news that you were leaving. He suggested that maybe…You would elect to stay with your family. To take up cultivating again. He swore an oath of mating to me. When he returns from his next hunt…If he returns…We are to be mated. I’m so sorry, N-Vorl. I would never have agreed, if I did not believe you were leaving.”

  Rage courses through N-Vorl and he rises to his feet. Yuljunu stands up with him. Fear seizes her and she reaches out to grasp N-Vorl’s right hand.

  “Please, N-Vorl! Do not do anything foolish! Do not prove them right…That the son is no different than the father. Let Curzu go on his hunt. By the eye of the universe, we must let everything take its course. You must not make a move against Curzu. Or you both will be lost to me.”

  Seeing the truth in Yuljunu’s words, N-Vorl kisses his intended lover’s hand and strides quickly away.

  Age in their world is relative. To them, a 100yo is still decently young.