As Draken lay alone in his bed, his mind lingered on Zamal’s golden scaly limbs entwined with his red and orange-hued ones. His heart palpitated, his muscles sore from his most recent encounter with her.
The last six days had passed by in a blur between the daily routine: meals, theoretical studies and classes covering historical battles, successful defences, stellar cartography, weaponry, exobiology, exopsychology, and strategy, alternated with days in the field digging fences, defending and attacking structures in different setups.
The nights, though! His nocturnal encounters with the intoxicating Zamal became an entirely different kind of blur.
Finally, he closed his eyes. A fussy slumber captured his mind and deprived him of the pleasure of daydreaming about her.
In his sleep, he happily sat with his family in a hovercar, dashing through the night. But screams soon replaced laughter, and the world tumbled upside-down. Fire beat at his body with hot red fingers. Pain and the weight of the world kept his body grounded, unable to get away from the fire. A shrill scream of fear echoed in the night, ripping him away from his recurring nightmare.
Breathless, he covered his mouth with his hand, fearing others may hear him. The light of Tarula’s moons came through the open window and added an eerie atmosphere to his dormitory. His eyes flicked back and forth, but the only noise in the dormitory was the chorus of cadets breathing in their sleep. The scream must have been inside his head.
Still shaking, he steadied the sheets in order and headed to the common refresher. The wristband marked 0300 when he finished with his personal hygiene and left the barracks. He had slept one hour and had still three to recover before everyone would be about.
With his heart still pounding in his chest, he crossed a quadrangle and stopped to drink from the communal water fountain, admiring the heavens. No moonlight obscured the night sky now. Both Tarula’s moons must have set, and he gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness.
Sunneth—Mander Prime’s star—distant hundred of light-years away, glowed. While Narhatat—the scout constellation used by their long-gone ancestors to find true south—shone brightest. Narhatat system and its green habitable planets, Agnars I, II, and III, were part of the Halden, too.
Stargazing calmed Draken’s heart rate. He had been careful never to talk to anyone about his pyrophobia. Not even to his father. Still, his words echoed in Draken’s mind like an old-fashioned time bomb. A coward is not the one who is afraid. It’s what we do about fear that makes the difference. Was he a coward for never acting to tame it?
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This was not the time for such doubts, though. The final test got closer and closer and, if the Black Squads were in charge of it, he may be in trouble. They said the secret service knew everything about everyone. But Draken didn’t believe it. He would pass the test and become a prestigious commanding officer of the Halden army.
His wrist comm vibrated, alerting him of an incoming recorded message. He sat down on a bench and checked the sender’s name: Rotima, his fiancée. She was older than him. A stunning brown-scaled specimen of Manderian female promised to him when he was just three and she was five. Her round figure with generous breasts and sides guaranteed fertility, and Draken looked forward to having a large family with her. But aside from that common desire in the Manderian population, he didn’t see her as an excellent partner. There was something about her that didn’t feel right. Zamal instead … but he couldn’t call off the wedding. That part of his life was already written.
My dearest husband to be,
You are in my thoughts continuously. I know your test is chiming and I have faith in your success.
I can’t imagine another Manderian more suited than you for leadership and for me.
Ever yours.
Draken stared at the screen for a time, lost in thoughts about his future with this woman he cared nothing about.
A shadow approached from his left.
‘You never lose the habit of sleeping for a couple of hours per night,’ Zamal said.
He turned and got a glimpse of her green eyes and her dilated pupils. ‘Your stealth technique is improving, but I saw your shadow out of the corner of my eye.’
She squared her shoulders and shrugged in response. The movement lifted her breasts. Having her so close made it difficult to focus on coherent thoughts.
Draken straightened his uniform, resolved to resist the temptation this time. ‘In battle, there will be little time to sleep. What are you doing out so early?’
Zamal bit her lower lip and broke eye contact. ‘I’m nervous. Derrin said the test is today.’
What did Derrin know? He was a student like them.
Draken shrugged it off, but deep down … No, I’m a true Manderian. We fear nothing. He said to himself, knowing it was a lie. But a lie everyone believed in.
A coward is not the one who is afraid. It’s what we do about fear that makes the difference.
‘I need a distraction.’ She challenged him with a lascivious gaze.
Draken licked his lips, anticipating a chance to have her. But not this time. That would be his special reward. ‘Another time.’
Zamal gritted her teeth and growled. She didn’t appreciate being denied what she craved, but he enjoyed her reaction and the probability of the joining they would have after the exam.