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Up to it.Makes me laugh. Live for it is more accurate.
I’m the only one here, trudging in the mud at 6 a.m., splintering myweak human skinon the course without gloves.
Ma always said she wanted a lady, but Pa needed an extra hand one spring. My brother Junno hurt himself during harvest and couldn't climb. Pa was devastated, but he knew it was proof of the obvious. My brothers were just too large and heavy to claim the high-dollar olyssis.
It’s the rarest fungi in all the Six Kingdoms. They only grow at the very top of the Mirth trees, where the sun shines the brightest. My family farms it and depends on it for survival.
If I hadn't ditched my dresses and strapped that harness on, we wouldn't have made it through the winter. My light frame easily out climbs my three brothers’ now, bringing in the harvest in record time every year.
“Look at me now, Ma,” I mutter.
At the top of the ropes course, I take a minute to reclaim my breath. Fog fills the dark arena with warm anticipation of the day ahead. I feel comfortably acclimated, knowing this is mine, even just for a minute.
Visualizing myself in the starter’s line, I look down and see that I’m not as alone as I thought I was.
It’s too dark to make much of him, whoever he is. He’s tall and broad, and I can’t say much more than that. But his movements are familiar, reminding me of something. There’s a name for his exercise, but it escapes me.
Curious, very curious.
After a little while, the dawn breaks over the mountains, filling the cold air with a high gloss that sticks in my corneas. I’m at a bit of a disadvantage, I’ll admit, as I walk back into the arena. Everyone here seems to know each other already.
“Hey, Sis, have you seen this one?” An enthusiastic Kiphian points to some blue moss.
“It’sSelaginella uncinata. Peacock moss,” she answers. “Use it for dehydration but only in extreme situations. It’s highly alkaline. Too much will cause stomach convulsions.”
Not bad,I think to myself. I whip my notebook from my back pocket to jot it down for later.
My notes are my lifeline in this business. My scribbled writing scrawls across the pages, rewriting what the female aspirant described to the letter. “Only for extreme situations,” I mutter as I finish jotting it down.
I’m certainly out of place. My pale skin prickling over with goosebumps is more obvious now than before daylight. The other aspirants seem to hush as I step into the center area for group stretches.
“Whoa, check the human girl,” I hear a voice say. Typical. I never know what amazes these Kiphians more. Is it that I’m human or that I’m female?
They might not look happy to see me, but I don’t mind looking at them.
One in particular has my eye. He’s wearing loose training pants that barely obscure his bulging thighs. He’s as thick as the trunk of a tree, but I can see his build doesn't slow him down in the least.
Unlike the other aspirants, he’s shirtless. I shiver just looking at him. Glistening with sweat despite the mistral around us, I find myself wishing I could reach out and run my hands along his tight abs.
The instructor orders us into splits, and I must say I’mimpressed. A limber Kiphian is few and far between. There’s something else about him, too.
Experience, or something like that. He has the stance and severity of a Kiphian who’s seen some things. I find myself wishing I knew what they were.
Geometric designs etched in gold splay across his bare flesh. They clamber across his chest, making my fingers twitch with a jealous desire to add my touch to his markings.
His long dark hair knotted half up in the back drapes over his shoulders where the etchings end. Stealing a moment to count them, I guess his age at about mid-thirties. A little on the experienced side, but then, experience lends knowledge inallareas.
My mother’s voice rings in my memory. “Girl, that clock. Tick tock.” Okay, she had a point. The other girls my age in Tlisan are all settled and off to new lives. I get it.
I don’t care. The chances of finding a mate who wouldn’t be intimidated by me are just too great for the gamble. Besides, I'm having too much fun to let this all go for some guy. I always prove to be a little too tough for them, anyway.
At 5’8,” I’ve always stood at eye level with the human boys back home. The Kiphians, on the other hand, are a little more my style. But on the whole, a relationship just isn't what I'm looking for right now.
Still, looking at his muscles glistening in the sunlight, I wouldn't mind a little fun on this challenge.
“Let’s line up, then we’ll time you on the courses before we break for the afternoon,” the course instructor informs us.
I don't take the conditions of this race lightly, and with every blow of the whistle for sprints, I'm kicking my heels to be right up there with the boys every time. What I need is to see the look on their faces when I finish just nipping at their heels.
