Page 31

“Because we endure far more than you do. Training a sun elf would be like training a faun. It would lead nowhere.” He grins at the ground. “They just flit about, unable to focus on one thing for more than?—”

“Are you scorched in the head? I’ve never heard anyone compare sun elves to fauns before. Never! I don’t see the resemblance.”

“Like fauns, you have weaknesses.” Though we’re at the same level, it still feels like he looks down on me. I don’t know how he does it. Maybe it’s the shape of his eyes, the depth of his dark gaze.

“Every race has weaknesses, don’t they?”

“You’re fragile, thin, and lack muscle.” He smirks. “Just look at yourself.”

“I was in a coma for several?—”

“And the moment darkness falls, you’re useless. So dependent on the sun, it’s almost adorable, as if?—”

“Not all of us.” I lift my chin. “The darkness doesn’t affect me.”

“Oh, don’t even try.” He lets out a low, amused laugh. “It affects everyone, my dear.”

“So you believe star elves are the only race worthy of war?”

“Dwarves and humans have their resilience, and on rare occasions, even a tree elf proves capable.”

“Tree elves? Are you serious?”

“A handful of sun elves, as well. Even centaurs display skill on occasion. But this is an academy for star elves, and that’s how it is.”

“As I said, I don’t have time for this, but I can’t imagine it being that difficult.”

“What wouldn’t be?”

“Becoming an apprentice.”

He laughs again, mockery glinting in his eyes.

“I’m more skilled than you think, star elf.”

“You’re naive.”

“Excuse me? You?—”

He dismisses my words with a flick of his hand. “Even if you were a star elf, you wouldn’t be allowed to train.”

“And why not?”

“For one, there’s a waiting list—a long one. And then there’s the cost. You hardly look like an elf with pockets full of Baraatic dulems.”

I fold my arms, the heat of my skin burning against my fingers. “And what else?”

“To even qualify, you need more than just basic skills. And from what I can see, yours are severely lacking.”

“You have no?—”

“Lastly, all the masters are occupied, and we’re in the middle of a training cycle. The apprentices still have half their time left before new ones can join the program.”

“You’re unbearably smug, aren’t you?”

“Oh, and I almost forgot.” He meets my gaze, thick lashes framing his eyes. “You’re a sun elf. You’re not even allowed to wield a weapon.”

I stand up. “As if you know a fiery thing about sun elves!”

“You’d be surprised how much I?—”

“We’re done here, aren’t we? It’s time for me to go back.”

“You’re free to leave whenever you wish, my dear.”

“Ah, but my dear , I don’t know the way.”

He sighs and rises, motioning for me to follow. Once again, I cross the field with his back as my guide. Colorful butterflies flutter past my nose, and the sun beats down on my hair and shoulders.

“You don’t have to be so fiery bitter,” I mutter.

“And you don’t have to be so arrogant.”

“Arrogant? Me?”

“My advice to you is?—”

“Thanks, but I’d rather avoid any advice from you.” I catch up to him, throwing a hateful glare his way, one he doesn’t see, since he’s still looking straight ahead.

“—that you sit down and enjoy the time you have?—”

“Eta aessa.”

“—here. That you take it easy. That you relax after the coma. And once you’ve properly recovered, we can provide you with a mount. Then you’ll have no trouble reaching Gosk. There, you can?—”

“What’s that?”

He keeps his gaze ahead, hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “—find a job and lead a fulfilling life. Or head to Aledeen in Vasvinennian if safety is what you’re after. There’s genuinely no reason for you to become a?—”

“I’m not going to, am I?”

“—a shadow warrior. Maybe you have no real ambition for it, but you believe you could if you wanted to. And that?—”

“Your advice is worthless.”

“Oh?” His jaw tenses, the sharp lines of his face dark and matte beneath the sun’s glare.

“I can’t settle in any city, nor can I travel to fiery Vasvinennian.”

“And why’s that?”

“I have to find my sister.” I stare down at my feet, framed by swaying grass. The tall blades brush against my ankles, and a lone ant marches past, its tiny steps barely disturbing the earth.

Netharu’el turns to me. “Your sister?”

“Akares’s armies took her. I have to save her.”

“Hasn’t it been lunar cycles since you arrived?”

“Yes.”

His steps falter briefly, but he continues, his movements quiet beneath the supple leather of his boots. “And you truly believe she’s still alive?”

“Uvani’eth! I know she is.”

“You don’t think that’s naive, my dear?”

“No.”

He chuckles a low, dark sound that sends an unpleasant shiver down my spine, goosebumps prickling along my arms. “Very well. I won’t be the one to crush your hopes.”

“Fine.”

“But you should consider whether it’s worth?—”

“It is.”

“—risking your future just to track down a sister who, in all likelihood, is?—”

“If she’s dead, I won’t be going to any city. I’ll make sure Akares pays for what he did.”

He lets out a sharp laugh and turns forward again. “So you plan to take on Akares ?”

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Good luck. You’re going to need it.”