[Practice Test 142: Brawl complete. Completion level: Conquest. Risk level: Minimal. Please consider a test with a higher level of difficulty.]

Mason stepped out of the training court with a deep sigh of satisfaction. It seemed he hadn’t actually ‘gained’ anything, but he’d sure as hell enjoyed himself.

Then he noticed the onlookers and lost a bit of the joy. Mason had never competed to impress anyone on old earth, and he didn’t fight to impress anyone now. He just wanted to know, for his own sake, how far he could push himself, how long he could last, how much he could take.

“Alright, show’s over,” he waved at Alex and the few civilians. Then he noticed Naya and did his best to smile. And where the hell did Haley go?

“You’re hurt,” said the elven princess with concern. Mason glanced at himself and shrugged.

“Not for long. I hadn’t realized how…rough…the training was. I need to learn more. I’m hoping if someone’s going to actually die it shuts down. But I don’t really know.”

“If it’s anything like the one in Shirass,” Naya said, “it won’t kill except at the most extreme settings. Though there are the occasional…accidents.”

Mason nodded, reminding himself these elves may have quite a lot of useful knowledge. He looked around for Haley again, just catching her heading out the door with a bit of a wink, as if she were up to something. He wanted to call out and find out what, but Naya was standing there looking at him with expectant eyes, and he cleared his throat.

“So. You were thinking we should talk to your people? We could do it later, but, I guess there’s no time like the present.”

Naya smiled, and Mason tried not to stare.

“Yes. There’s some…dissent, I fear. My people are loyal but it’s been…extremely difficult. Only a few men remain. Many of the women have lost potential mates, friends, brothers. Like me they hardly know anything about humans. We’ll…need to decide what to say.”

“I understand.” Mason ripped off the scraps of his shirt and wiped some blood off his face. “Let me go get cleaned off. Then we can…”

“No.” Naya looked him up and down and maybe blushed a little. “I mean, I think it’s better…if they see you like this. Maybe they’ll remember…what you are, and what they aren’t.”

Mason nodded, not sure if that was smart, but then he didn’t know anything about elves. He did his best not to frighten his own civilians. On the other hand, the less they understood the brutality of the new world, and what it was turning the players into, the more of a liability they might be.

He led Naya back to the door, giving a thumbs up to Tommaso and Garet when they caught his eye and waved.

"Good work, gentlemen. You'll have to tell me how the hell this thing works before I get my face smashed in again."

"I think you got the crash course, boss," Garet shouted, and Mason grinned. Then he realized Tommaso and Garet were the ones who'd fought over a girl and ended up in temporarily imprisoned. He considered it a good sign they were both here training, and hoped it wasn't some kind of rivalry about to explode again.

He walked with Naya through the grass and trees, occasionally glancing at his 'fiance' with a continuing sense of surreality. Her clothes were strange, but not so different than some kind of deeply religions person on earth. Mostly it was the ears.

Marrying a stranger was already pretty weird, but this one wasn't even human. He assumed this sort of thing happened in Blake's sci-fi shows all the time, but for Mason it wasn't exactly normal.

"I apologize again," Naya said suddenly, as if grasping for something to say. "About the insult before. To your concubine."

"She's not..." Mason sighed. "Don't worry about it. And I'm sorry, too. For..." he shrugged, "being a…bit of a grumpy prick."

Naya blushed, and Mason wondered exactly how 'prick' got translated.

"I'm...not much of a talker," he said. "And even for humans I’m not exactly…subtle. Maybe just call this a blanket apology for the way I speak. In general."

"I don't mind. I'm just not used to it. My people are very...formal."

They walked on a little, and Mason was about to get right to it and ask what he should say to the elves, but Naya stopped and turned to face him.

"When I told you we were desperate, it was true. We would be dead now or worse if you hadn't found us, like my father and brother. I realize that."

Mason was about to say it was no problem, that she didn't owe him anything, but she put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"Dariya is...well meaning, but old. From a different generation. She wants only to protect me, but isn't sure how. We have many traditions and they have served us well. But I know now some must be broken."

Mason nodded, then blew a little air through his nose.

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"I expect your oracle is more cunning than she gets credit for. I thought she was just some lost old woman when we first met."

Naya smiled. "You're probably right. But...the point remains, things have changed since her time. She is very old and wise. But change is difficult at her age."

It was clear the girl wanted to talk, even to Mason, so he thought he'd better ask some questions. "How many peop...er, elves, live in your city? Why are there so few of you trying to save your race?"

Naya sighed, and sat on the grass, resting her back against a tree. Mason sat across from her.

"Many thousands live in Shirass, but...most are old, afraid, not great warriors or wizards. Only my father was willing to act. Even so, few of his warriors were willing to leave the city. The politics amongst my people is..." Naya shook her head.

“Think of rivals who live for hundreds of years. You can't imagine the grudges, the hatreds. Families talk of cheating spouses for a thousand years. And our race is like a giant family. We can speak from many places, so reputation and words matter a great deal. It keeps us from action long after it is required."

Mason wasn't sure what else to say, and as usual just went with how he felt.

"When it comes to protecting those I love, I just do it, and I don’t care what anyone thinks. If your people, this giant 'family'—if it doesn't do that, then maybe it’s not worth much."

Naya met his eyes, and seemed to fight a tear. Then she glanced away. "There are more important things than how I feel. There is unity. Tradition."

"My people," Mason said, "humans I mean, we have traditions, differences. Some work, some don't. We’ve survived because...we adapt. Or at least we try."

Naya took a deep breath and smiled politely. "You make it sound so simple."

"No.” Mason snorted. “A lot of us usually die first." His mind went to his adopted parents, maybe gone in the blink of a synthetic god's eye, with who knew how many others. He shook his head and fought the memories and sorrow. "We still might not make it. But we have to try."

"Why?" Naya said, a little more water in her eyes now. Mason felt suddenly like he was back in the 'loading zone' before the tutorial. He couldn't stop wondering how much of this was even real—if that same awful AI was really there beyond Naya's eyes, a puppet master making them all dance to a private show.

He fought the impulse to discard everything as fake, as meaningless, thinking the girl's question was stupid now just as it was stupid before, despite struggling to answer it.

"You want to lay down and die?” The thought pissed him off, like it was the answer that seemed on the tip of some cosmic tongue. “This whole fucking universe seems to want us to. And I guess I can't think of a God damn thing better than to spit in the universe’s face. Maybe that's why."

Naya stared, expressionless, the wetness still in her eyes. Mason was getting ready to apologize for his language again when she grinned.

"You are a very crude man."

"Yeah," he cleared his throat, a little annoyed at being annoyed. Which just made him slightly more annoyed.

"But passionate," Naya added, the grin turning into a beautiful smile. "This is something my people often lack. I find it…refreshing."

"That's a first, I think," Mason said, feeling a little embarrassed now next to the obviously refined, beautiful woman. In his old life he wouldn't have had the faintest idea how to talk to a person that looked or spoke like her.

But he reminded himself that here in this world he was some kind of nobleman by his own actions. It was all still a little too hard to process.

"So. The elven speech. What are you thinking?"

The girl's smile only widened, her dark eyes twinkling with what might even have been a tiny mote of green.

"You're going to be yourself. And I'm going to adapt."

* * *

They walked into the elven 'resistance' house holding hands. It was Naya's idea. She had stripped some of her clothes, getting down now to more or less the same, uniform shirt and pants the human women wore. Though she wore it quite a bit better.

Her dark hair looked like a Disney princess had stepped off a screen. She kept a dozen earrings, anklets, bracelets, and rings, which Mason assumed had some kind of meaning. As they arrived at the door Naya stopped and took a breath, looking like she was giving herself a mental pep talk.

"You're ready?" she asked, and he shrugged.

"Be an impatient, grumpy prick. Got it."

Naya covered her mouth with a nervous laugh, then swat playfully at his arm. He did not hate her touching him.

Then they opened the door and stepped inside without knocking, finding a house practically filled to the rafters with elven women. They were all talking in little clusters, and when they saw Mason most of them practically leapt for silk veils, scarves, and longer shirts. Then they noticed Naya and slowed down, clearly confused.

Mason tried not to get too distracted by the almost overwhelming series of feminine sights and scents. There was so much color, perfume, and...teasing visuals, he almost closed his eyes.

But his role here was bad cop. Bad prince? Scary human? Whatever, he was definitely not supposed to give a shit about a bunch of women's modesty.

"Citizens, and kin," Naya said, no longer smiling. "You have heard no doubt I intend to wed the House of Anshan to the newly formed House of Mason. To that end I promised all my people, who I assumed were loyal, would serve this new family. And yet..." she looked around at anyone who would meet her eyes. "It seems...I was mistaken. Perhaps I misunderstand."

None of the elves spoke for an excruciating length of time, but Naya waited.

"Your pardon, lady," said a tall, beautiful blonde, who looked to Mason's eyes maybe thirty. "Some of us...wanted to hear from you directly...why we were to abandon our ancestral name."

The request seemed kind of reasonable to Mason, but Naya simply stared. He was starting to think maybe he wasn't the bad cop.

"I hadn't realized the lady of a house was required to explain her commands, Maryam."

"All due respect, lady," said a slightly younger brunette, "to abandon House Anshan is a choice we must all make. We followed your father away from the holy city, away from our families." The elf's voice rose and trembled. "We lost brothers and friends. And now we have heard the council stripped your ancestral lands. My family may even be kicked from their property. And you question our loyalty...to you? Where is your family's loyalty to us?"

"You're right," Naya said, finally deflating. She lowered her voice, and met the eyes of many more who were now more willing. "My family has failed you, sisters. Just as Shirass has failed us. But I will not feel shame. We have sacrificed all, and taken you as far as possible. To this holy place and a new life. But we can take you no further." Naya's eyes glazed, and she clenched her jaw.

"We must all...adapt, to this new world. And the House of Mason has yet to fail any of us. As the last of my house, I, Princess Naya Anshan of the House of Anshan, hereby abolish my forefather’s titles, and all my claims to their lands."

The elven women all stood, some with hanging mouths, others with tears in their eyes. Some called 'no!' or covered their mouths or clutched at their hair. Naya trembled and steadied herself on the table. Mason almost took her arm but decided he should wait.

"There, sisters," Naya whispered. "We are no different now. I cannot command you to do anything. We are all of us without a House, without a city, without protection or family. But my husband would like to offer you new ones."