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I found delight in the fact that she seemed pleased to be with me, pleased that I was the one she had to follow through this arena.
The fire crackled. I turned the creature over, relishing the smell of the charred skin that was flaking off slowly to reveal pale pink meat cooked just the way I preferred.
“Dismor and I grew up together. She’s a fierce competitor, always pushing me to be stronger and better. We share a love of the outdoors. I’ve never been very comfortable in a palace. Dismor though can be a… what’s that creature on your planet? I read about them when I was younger. They change their color and hide in their environments. They camouflage themselves.”
“A chameleon?” she offered, nodding. “That’s sort of what we call people who can mold themselves to whatever situation they’re in. So Dismor can fit in anywhere?”
“Not so much fit in.” I stirred the contents of a food pouch from our supplies into the now boiling water from the pool. “But she can hide anywhere. She falls to the background and can hear things and see things without being noticed. She makes herself comfortable, yet inconspicuous. Out in the woods, though, she is fully herself rather than a shadow.”
“You really care about her, don’t you?” Gwen reached across the fire and plucked a piece of flaking meat from the Vorpean. She sniffed at it tentatively, before darting out her tongue and licking. Her eyes widened in surprise at the taste.
“See, it’s not bad.”
“It’s edible,” she shrugged, refusing to admit I’d been right. “Though I’d love to have something that doesn’t taste like lizard meat. This might be called something else, but it sure as heck tastes like the other stuff we’ve been eating nonstop.” She sighed but continued to eat.
“We have some leftover fladi lizard, if you’d prefer that?” I smirked, teasing.
“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head fiercely. It was cute to see how fast she changed the subject, proving that, although similar, Vorpean did not taste exactly like fladi. “Were you and Dismor… ever more than friends?”
I realized with that question that I’d felt something from Gwen’s emotions when she’d asked if I cared for Dismor. Jealousy. And curiosity. Was there someone already by my side romantically? She wanted to know, almost more than she wanted to fill her empty stomach.
“We are like siblings, nothing more.”
I had to turn my face away from her when I saw her face grow happy, bright, excited. She was pleased with my answer, and that sent a thrill through me that flushed my own cheeks to an even darker shade of night and hardened my body in low, needful places.
“So you grew up camping with Dismor. What else did you do when you were young? Did you have a… I don’t know, favorite game? Or book?” She reached toward the roasting creature and pulled off another piece of meat. It was done now, overdone for my liking, but I’d seen the way Gwen liked her meat. Something called steak. Brown through and through, not even slightly pink.
Overcooking ruined the flesh in my opinion. Yet, seeing how she licked her fingers greedily, smacking her beautiful lips and reaching for a third piece, I began to waver. She certainly seemed to be enjoying my cooking.
I snagged a large piece for myself and popped it into my mouth. Immediately, I cringed, resisting the urge to spit it back out. I needed nourishment, even if it was chewy and vile.
Gwen laughed at the face I made then pointed at the pot. “Is that done? It smells divine.”
I stirred the rehydrated vegetable stew. I popped open two collapsible bowls and spooned a heaping serving into each, offering her the fullest container. I showed her how to pick the yellow rounded domes from the ground, a sweet fungus native to the Illirium System known for its soft sand, and break off the stem to create a small scoop.
She heaped a rounded scoopful into her mouth. “It’s good, but it has a little bit of a cilantro taste though. I’m one of those blessed people who think it tastes like soap.”
“With the way you reacted to tasting the Verukan sudsflower, I’m surprised you’re willing to eat this.” I spooned some into my own mouth. It was tangy and sweet and did taste a little bit of soap.
“What were we talking about?” Gwen mused, continuing to eat. It was funny to see her nose scrunch after each bite, her aversion to the flavor evident. “Oh, right. What else did you do growing up?”
“I didn’t really play games as a child,” I placed my empty bowl near the fire, finally moving the Vorpean from the licking flames. It was blackened beyond recognition now, yet Gwen was still popping bits of flesh into her mouth like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted. “The only tomes we had were for history or learning. There were stories though, nightmares and dreams, told at night when the world was quiet.”
“What about?”
“Our magick, and the darkness of the olde ways.”
“Like the mating magick?”
“Yes,” I nodded, “but also how powers can corrupt. The Incendiaries taught us that. My comportment teachers made a habit of reminding me that good magick can easily become evil if one gives into their base desires.”
“So even mating magick can be… dangerous sometimes?”
“No,” I smiled, “mating magick is one of the most beautiful things on our planet, one of the only powers we are still allowed to wield at will. It ensures our next generation, ensures our survival. And those who are mated are irrevocably joined, in all things.”
“But the dark magick is different?” She patted her stomach, sighing in satisfaction.
“Yes. J’onn Ilkwa, I hope you meet him one day, is the last true keeper of Orenda’s power. He studies all facets of it, the dark and the light, and he watches our world to keep the balance in order. Even he cannot practice the olde ways, the darkest ways. He keeps the knowledge, abstains from many pleasures, and watches. He is one of my dearest confidantes. I could not rule without his counsel. If the Incendiaries come back, we will be ready.”
