Chapter 193

When last I'd sparred or fought with Wisterl, I had been a khatif and she a keelish. Though I had enjoyed a significant advantage in stats, I still found myself struggling in combat against her while I held myself back from using more deadly means. In fact, the only time I had even nearly matched her in combat, I'd taken her by surprise by breaking her jaw with an unexpected knee strike. With her new evolution, one that she obviously was dying to test out, I could guarantee that I wouldn't, no, I couldn't come close to achieving victory.

I looked over at the female as she bounced on the tips of her feet, eagerness apparent in every lithe inch of her body. After evolution, Wisterl had grown, her shoulders broadening just like the rest of the khatif, her hands changing from the gnarled, immensely limited form of a keelish's hands to the more dexterous, less deformed shape of a khatif's. Her entire body rippled with ripcords of muscle, and every movement she made reeked of a predator's desire to hunt and to kill. More than just her obvious physical strength, though, Wisterl carried herself with a confidently threatening posture that, as a keelish, I hadn't thought overly much about, but now that I was a khatif, and the swarm's Alpha, I understood to be a nearly constant challenge of my authority. As she stalked towards me, the more primal section of my mind registered her as a personal threat and a political danger, and I bristled at her presence.

With an effort of will, I tamped down my instinctual understanding of the threat Wisterl posed and instead welcomed my tutor to my sleeping grounds.

"Wisterl! I don't see you nearly so often as I would like to. How has the journey been for you?"

The fiery female grunted unhappily. "If you have any idea what kind of a creature I am, you know how I feel about this journey."

I couldn't suppress my chuckles at that. "True enough. Were the crocodiles sufficient prey for you?"

"I'm not much of a hunter, but the few times I could convince one of your cowardly 'hunting packs' to let me fight the beasts alone, they made for adequate prey. Not intelligent enough for me, though. Too… dull. They don't make for combat." Wisterl looked knowingly at me at that last word. When I didn't immediately respond to her subtle invitation, she spoke up again, her tone no longer teasing but simply immensely serious. "I'm bored, Ashlani. Fight me."

Without answering her, I turned to Sybil, who immediately met my gaze, somehow already knowing what I was going to ask her. "If you fight and lose to her before the entire swarm, there are those who will complain and may even go so far as to lose some measure of trust in you and your leadership. I do not think your position is so flimsily established that there will be any who challenge you, but there are inherent risks in presenting yourself publicly as a weaker fighter than Wisterl."

After her brief explanation, Sybil went silent, and I felt myself ask before I thought to do so consciously, "And what if I win?"

Sybil looked at me, her expression completely serious, and after just a single moment's hesitation, she replied, "If you were to do so, then we would celebrate your victory." The doubt that Sybil obviously felt was as well restrained as she could manage to make it, but my Beta evidently had no faith in my ability to exit that fight victorious.

A part of me wanted to deny vehemently, to posture, to promise my immediate victory… but the rest of me knew that simply wasn't so. With how I had struggled against a weaker, smaller, less intelligent Wisterl, I could guarantee that any dreams of defeating her now that she had grown to evolve were just those–dreams. Even so, I felt the desire to test myself against her, the most practiced and skilled melee fighter I had ever known, whether in this life or my previous. 

Now that we had left the swamp, our hunts were once again a day-long affair, with scouts and packs ranging miles away from our general path as a swarm. That gave me plenty of an excuse to leave the rest of the swarm behind and range out–as soon as the thought had solidified in my mind, I was acting on my impulse, not wanting to delay further practice and opportunities for personal growth.

"Wisterl, come with me. We have hunting to do, once Vefir is prepared to accompany us." So singleminded was she that Wisterl took several moments to understand what I was truly inviting her to do, but with a pointed look from me, I could see the understanding finally settle over her, and Wisterl grinned widely, the predatory smirk on her face entirely unmistakeable. 

"Alpha." Sybil's voice cut through my sudden and decisive decisionmaking, and I looked down at my mate. Wordlessly, she nuzzled into my neck before muttering, "It is important that you stay safe. We do not know this area, and there could be creatures nearby that hunt things like us."

I laughed, bid the members of my elites farewell, and happily jogged off with Wisterl and Vefir in tow. 

[Vefir POV]

This journey had been particularly difficult for Vefir. He had long learned that his forte was not at all found in physical activity. While he could engage with a hunt if necessary, he was, to his own disgust, a weaker hunter than many of the lesser keelish. Vefir didn't understand why the presence of these weaker individuals so bothered him, when before he had enjoyed every opportunity he found to serve the weak and afflicted. Now, though, there was a part of him that looked down on the weak, on the helpless, and that made him hate himself even more. Was there anything he could do that could begin to compare to the strongest, or even the average of the swarm? All that he felt he could do was use his magic, and while he understood how his magic had saved lives, the value of the members of the swarm lay in its members' ability to work violence.

Solia's magic was much more flashy and dangerous, though Ytte's was more subtle it helped in hunting and she was creating weapons for whoever wanted them, Percral's was amazing and he was a good hunter besides that… Then, there were Shaak and Tii, who had followed in his healing footsteps, and now could heal and were better hunters than he was by far. 

As Vefir followed the Alpha and Wisterl to wherever they would begin their duel, Vefir was consumed with his thoughts. Though he loathed to do so, Vefir found himself unhappy with… just all of himself. He wasn't enough. His feelings of inadequacy filled him as he watched the Alpha get absolutely trounced by Wisterl. She moved like a shadow and flitted around the Alpha's heavy blows like a butterfly. After one of Wisterl's feet met the Alpha's snout with a cracking of bone and sent him sprawling while his mouth and nostrils leaked a profuse amount of blood, Wisterl cackled and declared her revenge acquired. Vefir rushed forward and began to tend to the furious but pleased Alpha, his magic flowing freely from his fingers as he lamented his own weakness.