In comparison, Ellyandra was beautiful in the pure sort. She was pristine and real.
Ellyandra narrowed her eyes, and her smile changed to a cold, emotionless state.
I sniffed the air, feigning confusion, and turned toward the pompous prick. "Does anyone else smell that garbage? Oh, look, you're here."
"I see you are unbruised and unbattered. Perhaps the thorn here has had some penetrating herself," he remarked.
Ellyandra shied back and looked at the ground in embarrassment.
Only a handful of us spoke Telethan, and I guessed that Hotty was my tutor because of that fact. I decided to risk a jab. I harnessed my inner NCO and went full Drill Sergeant on the fucktard. I retorted, "Look fuckstain, just because you're upset that your mother spread her legs and let your dad dump a load inside of her, instead of swallowing that shot like she should have, doesn't mean you have the right to display your impotence on this awesome spear master here?"
I heard a gasp come from Ellyandra, and a stutter come from fuckhead.
"I will have your head for such impudence," he stuttered.
"If you want my dick, I'm flattered, really. If I was from San Francisco, I might bend you over the table and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, but I don't swing that way. So go ahead and fuckoff, before I take that skank on your arm and ruin her for all men," I said hotly.
I grew up with COD and Xbox; my insults were crude but effective. I realize now that saying them to someone who had never experienced such eloquent prose may not have the desired effect.
He was literally speechless as he took his date, spun her around, and marched off.
"He will not forget that insult," I heard a melodic tone come from behind me.
Elves seem to like walking up and having conversations at people's backs.
I turned around to see a majestic elfish woman with a warm smile. She wore a dress that looked like a sunset, and her hair was as blond as a California surfer. She was like a pretty Legolas, or I guess that's a redundant statement.
The elves all around bowed their heads in proper supplication.
So every elf I had seen thus far was essentially black-haired, almond-eyed, and tan-skinned. They were lithe, short, and sharp-featured.
The beauty that stood before me had soft features was mid five feet, and looked like a Nordic queen.
Normally I would have apologized that she had to hear such things, but Chibushka had taught me that it was not right to apologize unless I actually meant it. "I hope not."
Her emerald eyes pierced me, "I missed the first part of that," she searched for the correct word, "conversation. I hope the jab was well deserved."
I half expected someone to back me up, but soon realized I was in a conversation with a peer, and it would have been rude for others to interject.
"Very well deserved."
"May I present her royal highness, Queen Silia Autumnleaf," Chibushka said, appearing behind the queen.
Your highness, I said, bowing as Chibushka had taught me.
"Your majesty," Chibushka said, "This is My Dude, Staff Sergeant Kevin Holden."
"A pleasure," she said, smiling with a slight curtsy, "my husband has not but a good word to say."
"I assure you, he exaggerates."
"It is a crime to call the king a liar," she teased.
"Well, in that case, I claim every accolade he gives."
She gave a mock confused expression and said, "He didn't say you were so arrogant."
It was my turn to be speechless.
"I see her highness still has the tongue to put men in their place," Chibushka noted.
I wanted to say phrasing but thought better of it.
"I had a great mistress," she said, sharing a smile with the diminutive fairy.
"You have grown." Chibushka floated to Silia's neck and hugged her.
"It is so good to see you again." Silia kissed Chibushka on the cheeks. "How long has it been?"
"Over a thousand years."
I realized that we were still surrounded by polite elves who were intently listening to a conversation between the queen, Chibushka, and myself, in a language that was not their own. I also realized I didn't know the proper protocol to tell them to carry on.
Chibushka must have noticed my discomfort. "Pray, let us retire to a more comfortable locale."
"After you, princess," The Queen said.
I watched as the pair giggled their way to the head table.
"Wow," Arsch said.
"What?" I asked, turning to face him.
"She doesn't look over a thousand."
She was the quintessential definition of beauty, and she was older than my; I've already used country, let's see, how about language? How old is English? Fuck it. She was old but still hot.
"Chibushka, on the other hand," Arsch noted.
I smiled at the insult and turned around to see Ellyandra watching us intently.
"So, uh, sorry about the crude language," I apologized and quickly chastised myself. I wasn't supposed to apologize. I moved around the table to get closer to her.
"Your battle speech is interesting. Very, uh, colorful."
"Too much?"
"He has been too arrogant for some time, and needed to drop down a couple limbs." She grabbed a glass of pink wine and took a sip.
If Silia was beautiful, Ellyandra was cute and seeing those brown eyes shine made my heart flutter a bit. Her lips were the softest pink, and the only thing I could concentrate on.
I had only known her a few fivedays, and I was already smitten.
"So nice party, huh?" I attempted to make small talk.
She giggled a little, not at my joke, but in my attempt to make small talk. Humans' lives were a fast-burning candle. We are considered rash, impatient, emotional. Elves are logical in action. Surprisingly, they don't beat around the bush in conversation. A human can talk for twenty minutes before getting to the point; an elf would consider that rude and manipulative.
"You have come here not to discuss the party, and the Blademaster approached after you were here. So I ask again, why has My Dude condescended himself to our table?" she said, spreading her hands.
"I just wanted to say thank you for the lesson today," I said awkwardly as if making up the lie on the spot.
"Is that all?" she asked.
Was she fucking with me?
"Uh yeah," I said, sticking to my guns. "See you tomorrow around the same time?"
"If that is your wish?" she said.
I swallowed, nodded, and said, "Enjoy your evening."
"You as well, My Dude."
I turned to walk back toward the table, Arsch in tow.
"I just wanted to say thank you for the lesson," Arsch mimicked my cowardly statement.
"Bro, not cool," I said, slightly embarrassed.
"Same time tomorrow?" he continued to mock.
"Knock it off."
"The might slayer of the gherrinfresser, felled by a pretty face," Arsch said. "Oh, the songs to be written. The poets will come alive, each one begging to write your ballad."
"It would be unprofessional, she's a teacher." It was a bullshit lie; if Ellyandra asked me to stay at that table, I would have in a heartbeat.
"Sure," Arsch said.
The rest of the night was nothing but a canine equestrian affair. Donker had blessed the elves with triplets. It was a rare occurrence among the elves, only once in every three thousand births. Considering population size, it was no wonder they had a feast every time a woman popped out three kids at once.
Also, not gonna lie, baby elves are fucking adorable. Humans look like little alien monsters. No sane man thinks babies are cute. Baby elves, though, look like miniature elves.
We didn't imbibe much, and Chibushka kept me in check. Fuckface McAsshole was seated at table six, and every once and a while I looked back to see him burning holes in my skull. Other than that, the night went by swimmingly.
We walked back to our room, chatting about the c
hildren and how the name suffix nest, as in Brownnest, was reserved solely for multiple births. The children had a different surname than their parents, a gift bestowed upon them by the king.
Chapter 30
I slept like a baby: no nightmares, no weird dreams, and no middle of the night worries.
I practically jumped up from my bed, excited to meet the new day.
I rushed through my morning routine and scarfed down breakfast.
Without a word to Chibushka or Arsch, I grabbed my M4 and ran to the training dojo thingy. Once there, I started my stretching and warm-up exercises. I didn't do that stupid PRT crap the Army teaches either.
Halfway into pigeon position on my left leg, I heard the door open up.
I smiled so broadly my cheeks hurt.
I was instantly deflated when I saw Douchebag McFuckface enter with three other guards.
"Oh, My Dude," he said with the slightest bow possible. "Did my message not find you? The guard will be drilling here for the foreseeable future."
I rolled my eyes.
"Of course, if you would like to join us, you are welcome."
I was tempted, so tempted. I had at least forty pounds on the asshole, and I figured he had no idea how to grapple. Then again, I had no notion of Elfjitsu. I decided the more kingly route was discretion. "Thank you, but I must decline."
A satisfied smirk popped onto his face. "Coward," he said under his breath.
Rage filled me. The pompous jackoff needed to be taught a lesson. I stood up, turned to him, and said, "Alright, asshole, let's do this."
His smile was a little too confident. "Weapon?"
We were in a training arena, and I knew it. I'm not a psychopath. I wanted to hurt him, not kill him. There was no way I was going to get an M4. There was also no way I was going to let him have the advantage with a sword or something. Undoubtedly he was better with a spear than me, so I figured hand to hand would be best. "No weapons, just you and me."
"How quaint," he said, as he removed his scabbard and armor.
I was already in training clothes, so I didn't need to disrobe or get ready.
We entered the notopa, and his three compatriots took up positions around the ring.
Now before I go into this next part, I just want to reiterate, Douchebag McFuckface was easily three hundred years old in real-time. He was a member of the royal guard and pretty much trained as long as America has been a country.
He walked forward without a crouch, stance, or anything.
One of the elves on the ring said something softly, "Nes pad de mal."
Fuckface nodded and closed the distance.
I didn't want to hurt him by knocking him out, I just wanted to put him in a chokehold, so I shot for a low takedown in an effort to get him in a dominant position.
I woke up with a splitting headache and an angel looking over me.
"That was stupid," Ellyendre said.
I blinked. Her large brown eyes were perfect, her cute button nose complimented her face, and her pink lips were divine. Little strands of black hair hung down, threatening to touch my face.
My first instinct was to reach up and pull her in for a kiss. Once I got back to my senses, I controlled my urges and decided it would be better not to be a creepy guy.
"What happened?"
"You challenged the master hand to hand instructor to one on one combat."
"He's the master instructor?"
She nodded and then helped me up to my feet. "Why would you challenge him?"
We were still in the training arena, and I noticed the other guards were gone.
"He called me a coward," I said, grabbing my head. I wasn't sure what he did to me, but it hurt a lot.
"Are you a coward?"
"No."
I'm starting to think all women think like Chibushka or are somehow ingrained with some mystical knowledge to make men feel like complete fucking idiots.
"Then why let him goad you?"
This was like adding insult to injury. I was being chastised by the girl I had a huge crush on. OK, woman, not girl; she was like four times my age, maybe more.
"Because I'm an idiot."
"Finally, you are truthful with me." Her smile made me stupid with giddiness. I couldn't help but fawn over her.
She transformed from happy to confused.
"What?" I asked.
She ignored the question and instead changed subjects. "Are we still to train in the spear?"
"I thought Greenstem had the arena reserved."
She laughed a little. "A friend of the royal court requests the training arena, and you believe the guard has precedence?"
How many times was I going to make a stupid mistake? "It seemed reasonable at the time."
"You are such a human."
"Such a male," Chibushka said from behind me.
"Ahh, for fucks sake," I said under my breath.
"Is this why you rush off? To spar with this," Chibushka let the pause last longer than it should, "woman?"
Ellyendre looked embarrassed.
I felt my blood start to boil. Who the fuck was she to criticize a Rose Thorn? "You will be respectful."
I didn't add an or, because I didn't have an or. What leverage did I have on a fey princess who had done nothing but try to help me?
"Of course, My Dude, my apologies." She bowed in subservience.
What the hell was happening? "OK then," I said, moderately emboldened.
Ellyendre looked slightly uncomfortable but did her best to not look embarrassed.
Just as things were getting more awkward from the unnatural silence, I heard Arsch walk in, putting an end to the moment.
"Why you guys just standing there?" Arsch said around a mouthful of muffin.
I looked around, shrugged, and said, "We're just getting ready."
We conducted the rituals as before, and Ellyendre walked me through the numerous daitakas.
I had advanced quite well under her tutelage, and although it had only been a few weeks, I grew comfortable with the spear. Don't get me wrong, any elf in the tree could still best me, but I was confident I could take on some thugs in the streets of Teletha.
"You are doing well," Ellyendre noted.
"Kai pilla," I responded.
"And you have learned how to accept an earned compliment."
"Kai pilla."
"It is time we turned our attention to the," she paused and contemplated her words, "theory of fighting."
"Kai pilla."
"We shall meet tomorrow here, and I will teach you."
"Kai pilla."
We exited the notopa, and I said the words as before. I thanked my pilla for her training, wisdom, and honor. I retrieved my equipment and met up with Arsch and Chibushka.
"You have made an enemy," Chibushka stated.
"Douchebag McFuckface?"
"If you are referring to a member of the royal guard, then yes. You have made an unnecessary enemy by engaging in pathetic insults with someone lesser than you." Her voice held no emotion.
"He insulted Ellyendre."
"And who is she to you? She is your spear instructor, nothing less, nothing more."
"He implied we were…"
She turned toward the exit and said, "Lunch is being served, and I am hungry."
I followed her down the hall. I soaked in sweat, and my head still hurt from the morning, but I was feeling high after a good workout.
"Insults that carry a hint of truth are typically the insults we take to heart. Regardless of the insult, however, he did not disparage you, nor did he disparage your position. He insulted another elf, below his station. He did so in Telethan, so while it was meant for your ears, it was not meant to besmirch her honor to the other elves. It was a fine line, but he walked it perfectly within his right."
"So, I am just supposed to sit there and let him insult my pilla?"
"You put yourself on the level of someone beneath you, which in turn reduced your level. Maybe not offi
cially, but in the mind and eyes of the other elves."
"I can't just sit back while that asshole insults his," I used air quotes, "lessers."
"There were many things you could have done that would have insulted him far more than mere words and allowed you to retain your standing."
"Like what?" I could feel my temper starting to come out again.
"Invited Ellyendre to feast with you."
"I thought that was forbidden or something stupid like that. You know, upset the social balance."
She shook her head. "You were a soldier, correct?"
She knew me; we had spoken numerous times on the subject. "Yes."
"And when your king or a prince visited, did they follow the protocol perfectly."
I didn't want to explain to her about politicians or generals or whatever versus royalty, but I did recall that the higherups typically did whatever they felt like. If a general visited us at a range, he didn't range walk or go through all the bullshit we did. He also spoke to the privates like they were his kids, and not like the rucking idiots they were. Yes, all privates are fucking idiots.
"No, they pretty much did whatever they wanted, within reason."
"I see," she said, "and did you ever see a prince argue with a baker, or perhaps a moneylender?"
I mentally translated that to a colonel arguing with a staff sergeant.
"No." I felt like an idiot.
"Hmm," she noted. "Have you seen a prince gift a coin or a boon to a baker?"
"Yes," I said through closed teeth.
She then stopped and turned to me, "A king pursues what he wants, for the good of his country, his house, and himself, in that order. When a king sees something that is worth pursuing, and its acquisition harms not any other in his or a friendly kingdom, then he takes it."
"That seems." Was wrong the correct word? "Greedy," I said, settling.
"In some cases, perhaps, but in others, no. Is the king taking for the betterment of his kingdom? When Lykon Breakthorn discovered the Silver Acorns of Maton Ridge, he did not waver or hedge. He saw what he wanted, and he took it. For his actions, his kingdom became the wealthiest country for ten generations."
"Wait, you said 'Lykon,' what's with whole ykon thing?"
"It means head or king. Sykon, son of Mykon, is the ruler here, his father's father held the name Lykon."
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