Kaji Warriors: Shifting Strength

by Kelly A Nix

  It won’t take her long.

  Solum sits on the edge of the cliff to squint out into the bright sky. Of Planet Kaji’s three stars, only Sul remains above the horizon at this hour. He enjoys a few moments of relaxation as he watches the red sun persist along its endless journey. A rare smile touches Solum’s lips as he remembers how few sunsets he watched throughout his life. He muses over the changes he faced throughout the last seventeen seasons, changes that left him with little time for such trivialities as sunsets. After a few moments, Solum glances down to check on the most significant source of change and finds her gone. He frowns and scans the valley, but the vegetation and boulders make his search difficult.

  Focused on finding Atae, Solum almost misses the sound of a large stone shifting behind him. He spins around in time to catch a small, gray leg with his outstretched hand and flings the rest of the youngling over the cliff edge, again. This time, Atae is quicker and snatches the towering warrior’s wrist just as he releases her leg. Unprepared for the jolt of her momentum, Solum topples over the cliff with her. He snags the edge with a firm grip, holding himself and the youngling at bay. The larger warrior peers down to see her rosy eyes dance with amusement, despite her one swollen eye. Atae smiles with an open mouth as she pants from the vigorous training session.

  “I got you.”

  Solum snorts at her claim and jerks the arm Atae holds in her grip, forcing her to wobble below him. “You think so?”

  Atae giggles at his antics then plants her feet against the wall of the rock face and pulls. Solum’s eyes widen as he realizes her intent, but with nothing to grasp for leverage, he cannot stop her. They both tumble down the cliff in a free fall. Atae twists to position her smaller stature above the larger warrior and uses his body to absorb the rough landing. The two Kaji land with a loud crash, sending dust and rubble flying in all directions.

  Atae lays sprawled across Solum’s massive form with her black uniform ripped and splattered with blood. As the dirt settles, the youngling lifts her head from the older warrior’s chest. Coughing, she clears the dust from her lungs and peers down into Solum’s face. He groans, and Atae giggles again. Solum cracks an eyelid to see his delighted daughter watching him, and he closes his eye again with an audible sigh.

  After a few moments, Atae lays her head against Solum’s chest. Content to listen to her father’s heartbeat for a time, she closes her eyes and rests her exhausted body. Solum opens his eyes and peers into the sky, no longer seeing Sul dance behind the clouds. Instead, he considers the encroaching changes that the future promises and cringes. Solum slips a protective arm around Atae’s back, and she grins.

  “Father?” Atae’s quiet voice interrupts Solum’s thoughts, and he grunts in acknowledgment, still staring above.

  “I defeated you,” she says.

  “Your point?”

  “Jeqi and I get to choose when we enter the Gridiron, now.”

  “That was the deal.”

  “Will you be disappointed if we don’t enter with the rest of our class at Sula Academy?”

  “Why wouldn’t you compete with your class?” Solum asks.

  “Jeqi wants to enter the Gridiron with the prince,” she explains. “So, we have to wait to see when he will enter.”

  “I expect our queen will schedule her son’s pledging ceremony within the next few months. We can start planning then.”

  Atae nods and sits up to free Solum. Climbing to his feet, he watches his daughter sway until she steadies herself with a hand against the ground. She blinks a few times, then stands without an issue, sporting a broad smile. Solum studies her bruised face and the subtle favoring of her side, where he kicked her off the mountain. At her father’s odd behavior, Atae’s smile twists into a concerned expression, and she drops her gaze, running her hands over her arms.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks.

  “Was this battle too taxing?” he asks sternly.

  “No!”

  “If our training regimen is becoming too difficult to maintain, how do you expect to survive the Gridiron?” he says. Atae scowls at him and raises her head in defiance.

  “I’m fine, Father.”

  “Sula Academy’s Tournament will begin next month. It will be a good indicator of your current abilities. I expect you to perform admirably.”

  Atae’s mouth curves into a smirk as she jams her hands onto her hips. “Admirably? I’m going to win.”

  Solum chuckles as he leads Atae toward home. He remembers the naïve arrogance of youth and the ruckus it caused within his small pack. Uta, Roga, Sula, Feku, and Solum were quite the troublemakers in their day. That was before the sobriety of war, and before the Camille took everything dear to them. Solum’s humorous mood sours with his thoughts. Atae is skilled for a Kaji her age, hybrid or purebred, but she is far more naïve than he would like. Still, he dreads the day her charming innocence is stripped away. The day she enters the Gridiron. The tournament will challenge Atae and help her fine-tune her skills, but the Gridiron will change her. If she survives, that is. If she comes home, she will come back different. She will be a warrior and a citizen of the Kaji Empire. A small pit tightens in Solum’s chest, and he frowns at the unfamiliar feeling.

  Chapter 6

  Solis dances alone in the sky, too early for Cerule to enter the galactic stage. Solis’ red rays of sunshine warm Atae’s bruised skin and dry her already cracking lips. The cool morning breeze rustles her hair as she lies sleeping in the small clearing. Mount Tuki is alive with morning wildlife, but the sounds of the surrounding forest are not enough to wake Atae. However, Jeqi’s swift kick to the ribs is more than enough to jar her friend from slumber.

  “Argh.” Atae jumps up to clutch her side. Jeqi’s amused grin twists to concern at her packmate’s painful reaction. She crouches to place her hand on Atae’s shoulder as the blonde’s tail flicks behind her.

  “Let me see,” Jeqi says. Atae jerks away from her packmate.

  “I’m fine. Just a few bruises from last night’s training session.”

  Rejecting her excuse, Jeqi tugs at Atae’s uniform until her friend reveals bruised and beaten ribs. Jeqi’s tail twitches in curiosity as she analyzes the damage. The blonde notes the dark bruising, the swollen tissue, and the scabbing cuts and gashes over Atae’s ribs.

  “Tsk.” Jeqi rolls her eyes and drops Atae’s shirt. “This is minor damage, Atae. I remember when Marqee broke your arm during a sparring session. You still managed to defeat him. A broken rib or two shouldn’t even register on your pain threshold.”

  “Well, it does,” Atae says. She climbs to her feet while hiding her discomfort from the other students arriving for class.

  “How’d that happen anyway, Atae? Forget to block a sidekick again?” Jeqi asks. She strolls to the edge of the clearing, and Atae scowls at her packmate as she follows her to a large tree.

  “No,” Atae says. She sighs at Jeqi’s crabby tone and impatient attitude, her norm as of late. They both lean against the massive trunk and watch the surrounding students.

  “It probably happened when I got kicked off the mountain face last night.”

  “Side kicked?”

  Atae huffs at her packmate’s comment but doesn’t argue. Instead, she watches in irritation as Marqee and Sloan arrive. Both purebred males saunter into the small clearing with arrogance rolling off them in waves. Sloan raises an eyebrow and winks at a group of female students that catch his eye. They explode into a fit of giggles, and Atae twists her face in disgust.

  “Last night?” Jeqi asks, interrupting Atae’s thoughts.

  “What?”

  “Your injury happened last night? It looks fresher than that,” Jeqi says. She twirls a strand of blonde hair around one finger as she surveys her surroundings and notes which of her classmates have arrived.

  “Does it?” Atae shrugs. “No, it definitely happened last night. No training this morning. Father was gone before I awoke. That’s why I was able to get here early for once.”<
br />
  “And fell asleep in broad daylight where any enemy could’ve found you.”

  Atae frowns but bites her tongue. She knows that Jeqi is right to scold her. Giving in to any level of exhaustion is inexcusable. Atae doesn’t know how she let it happen. One moment she was meditating and listening to the wildlife, the next moment, Jeqi was kicking her awake. Atae remembers being tired but not exhausted. Even now, she takes a deep breath to combat the fog that clouds her mind.

  But what should I expect after such a groundbreaking triumph?

  Atae hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but warriors have died in the Gridiron due to smaller mistakes. She wonders if Jeqi’s confidence in her is wavering. In an attempt to reassure her packmate, Atae opens her mouth to announce her victory over Solum. But before she can, Jeqi continues.

  “Advisor Solum doesn’t miss many training sessions with you.”

  “Only when something big is happening at the palace or regarding royal affairs. Why?”

  Surprised by her packmate’s suspicious tone, Jeqi glances back to find Atae watching her.

  “I’m just worried that the prince will participate in the Gridiron before you ever defeat your father,” Jeqi says.

  Atae scoffs and jerks away from her friend. “Why do you insist on participating with the prince anyway?”

  Jeqi whips her head around to Atae, and her cool-blue eyes melt into scorching flames. Her tail puffs to twice its size and stiffens with anger. Atae can’t help but squirm under the blonde hybrid’s attention.

  “You may be ready to let the Gridiron decide your fate,” Jeqi says, “but I want to be appointed a specialist. You know the best way to do that is to be named a royal companion.”

  Atae nods, avoiding eye contact, and hunches her shoulders in a submissive posture to appease her packmate.

  “And the quickest way to earn the title is to fight by the prince’s side in the Gridiron. Got it,” Atae says. Jeqi blinks, and her tail relaxes along with the rest of her form. She shakes her head, tucks her tail around her waist, and peers back at the clearing.

  Atae watches Jeqi for a moment, concerned about her aggressive behavior. Most Kaji are temperamental and antagonistic, but Jeqi’s Setunn pedigree bestows a healthy balance and tight control over her temper. Usually. Elder Warrior Feku should be arriving at any moment to begin class, so Jeqi tugs on the silver studs in both her ear lobes. Recognizing the minuscule reflections in Jeqi’s eyes, Atae follows suit.

  When Atae activates her visual visor with her own pair of silver studs, a hologram only visible to Atae populates in front of her. The personal hologram analyzes Atae’s environment and highlights points of interaction, such as Jeqi’s visual visor. The corner of Atae’s mouth quirks up as a thought crackles across her mind, and she waves her hands in a memorized pattern that activates her visor’s communication app.

  A keyboard bursts into existence, but only Atae can see and use it. As she types out a message, Atae shoots Jeqi an innocent look. Then she sweeps her arm to toss the note at the blue-eyed hybrid. Jeqi’s visor flashes with confirmation on Atae’s hologram, and Jeqi flicks her fingers to open the message now visible only to her:

  ‘I guess it’s a good thing that I defeated Solum last night.’

  Jeqi’s eyes light up with eagerness, and her silver tail jolts to life. “What? You defeated him?”

  Atae can see Jeqi’s desperate need to confirm her announcement, so she gives a lopsided grin and shrugs. Jeqi opens her mouth to congratulate her friend, but the chatter from the surrounding group of students plummets into silence. Dropping their conversation, for now, Atae and Jeqi glance around to investigate the sudden change. Elder Warrior Feku stops in the center of the clearing, surveying the crowd with his dark, perceptive gaze. He scrutinizes each of his students as his dark skin absorbs the morning light, and his silver hair reflects it. Atae’s eyesight is momentarily impaired when every student in the clearing activates their visual visors. Her personal hologram highlights each activated visor as points of interaction. Since the hologram can only identify interaction points within eyesight, visors active within the city walls are not available for communication.

  “Why are we here?” Feku asks. Every visual visor in the clearing lights up as eager students hope to earn an easy point. It’s Atae’s visor that glows gold when chosen to answer via Feku’s visual visor.

  “To learn, Elder Warrior,” Atae says. Anticipating a point addition, she flashes a smug glance to Marqee and Sloan over her shoulder. Marqee sighs, and Sloan nods at her with a sarcastically chipper smile.

  “To learn what, Atae?” Feku asks.

  Atae furrows her brow in uncertainty and scans the clearing for inspiration. “To learn about wildlife?”

  “Not good enough.” Feku shakes his head, spearing Atae with disappointment. “Jeqi?”

  Atae ignores the snickering from nearby students, specifically Marqee and Sloan, and focuses her attention on Jeqi. The hybrid’s blue eyes bounce across the display of her hologram, but when he calls her name, she wipes away her distraction to pay Feku the respect he deserves. Jeqi spouts off the answer as though it were common knowledge.

  “We are here to learn how to survive the Gridiron.”

  “That is correct,” Feku says. He nods, and the names of the five top-ranked students flash across everyone’s visors with an additional point, further securing Jeqi’s top position. Atae only has a moment to take pride in Jeqi’s performance before a visor lights up to indicate a question. Feku signals with his visor for Tuk to ask his question.

  “But I thought we were preparing for the tournament? It’s only a few weeks away. It’ll be months before our class enters the Gridiron.”

  “Anyone care to explain?” Feku asks. Once again, the majority of the visors light up. He chooses a hybrid with green hair to answer, and she speaks in a gravelly voice.

  “The Gridiron is our ultimate goal, but the tournament dictates which of us will enter the Gridiron as representatives of Sula Academy. It’s like our final exam, and the Gridiron is graduation.”

  “I doubt your graduation ceremonies from previous courses were this celebrated nor dangerous. Representing Sula Academy in the Gridiron has been a death sentence for a handful of young warriors. Why would anyone want to do it?” Feku asks. The green-haired youngling snaps a hand to her hip and smirks at the elder warrior while Atae bites her lip and struggles to remember her name.

  “Because we are the best of the best,” she says. Feku chuckles and awards her one point. Atae recognizes her name, Trinka, when it pops up on her visor in twenty-fourth place.

  “Does anyone know what to expect from the upcoming tournament?” Feku asks. Again, every visual visor in the clearing lights up with eagerness. A purebred with dark, beady eyes framed by white and red locks, named Debil, answers with a throaty voice after her visor glows gold.

  “My brother competed three seasons ago. He said the tournament had four rounds designed to test each participant’s strength. The entire class entered, but only the top performers advanced in each round. I think the thirty highest ranked students from round four were chosen that season.”

  “I heard her brother didn’t make it past round two,” Atae whispers to Jeqi. She watches Debil slip past a few students to stand next to Sloan and Marqee. Jeqi waves away her personal hologram long enough to glance at the dark female and shrug.

  “That didn’t stop him from entering the Gridiron along with the Sula competitors.”

  “Really? You can do that? How did he do?” Atae asks. Jeqi nods at her as she reactivates her hologram.

  “It’s not recommended,” she says, fiddling with her screen. “He didn’t have any of the perks that come with representing Sula Academy, and he didn’t survive. It’s to be expected. If you fail the tournament, you’re not likely to survive the Gridiron.”

  Atae grimaces at the grave news. When she peers back at Debil, Atae notices something odd about her expression. Debil’s thin smile seems fragile, and
her eyes are glassy with unshed tears. Atae can see the wavering dam holding back Debil’s emotions but has no idea how to help or if she should try. Debil isn’t her packmate, merely a fellow student. Their recent interactions were limited to competitive maneuvers to earn the most points from Feku. Atae dominated each opportunity and never considered Debil a threat. She certainly never realized Debil’s family history with the Gridiron. As Atae considers how this new information should affect her opinion of the purebred, Sloan leans down to whisper something into the dark female’s ear, and Debil’s smile grows genuine.

  Never mind. Atae scowls as her distaste for Sloan spews onto her opinion of Debil.

  “That’s right,” Feku continues. “There will be four rounds, and only the top competitors will advance. All two hundred of you will enter round one, but only the best fifty of round four will represent Sula Academy in the Gridiron. Each round of the tournament is designed to test your limits. It will be the most difficult competition you can imagine, but it will not compare to the hardships awaiting you in the Gridiron.”

  Debil’s dark eyes shimmer, but she sets her jaw and slips closer to Sloan. He flashes a suggestive grin at her, and she returns a coy expression, happy for the extra attention from the attractive male. Unimpressed by Debil’s thirty-fifth ranking that flashes across everyone’s hologram, Atae glances at the dark female as the remaining class continues with Feku’s questionnaire.

  The moment she escapes the spotlight, Debil releases the breath she held and sags into a slouch. Even though the class has yet to do anything strenuous, Debil seems tired. Atae furrows her brow but shrugs off her puzzlement when Sloan catches her watching and slips an arm around Debil. Their eyes meet, and Atae wonders at his protective response. Then, as though answering her question, Sloan’s expression twists into a steamy invitation that would make any other female blush. When Atae rolls her eyes and flips back to Feku, Sloan chuckles at the expected response and tightens his arm around Debil.