Home > Wexxon the Great Alien Warrior(11)

Wexxon the Great Alien Warrior(11)
Author: Juno Wells

But since Rachel wasn’t from Xelxar, I assumed that the connection would never come into play between us. And while I would surely miss out on such an old tradition, I wasn’t willing to trade a minute of being with Rachel for an inexplicable Xelxar custom.

“No,” I admitted. “I don’t think she knows. I don’t even think Grindeem mentioned it during the ceremony.”

“Well, to be fair to Grindeem, I’m sure he isn’t accustomed to having to perform marriages in the middle of the night with an exotic partner involved,” Aldvirion replied. “He shouldn’t be punished for the oversight.”

“I would never threaten or punish Grindeem for something so small.”

“And that is why you are our greatest warrior.” Aldvirion smiled. “So, what brings you out of your marriage bed so early? Or rather, so late?”

“…Have you heard any word from Reddin?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

And Aldvirion’s cheer seemed to drain from his expression. “Wexxon, you know that I do not search for Reddin’s word. I do not wish to see him, ever again. He is a twisted, wounded warrior, without a purpose, without a soul—”

“He is still my brother, Aldvirion,” I cut him off as he spoke. “And I will always search for him.”

“Wexxon, he is intent on betraying you,” Aldvirion argued. “You and I both know that as soon as he gets the chance, he will ruin the peace you’ve built for all of us on Xelxar—”

“You speak as if I am a king, Aldvirion.”

“The man who controls the arena controls all,” Aldvirion shot right back. “This is how it’s always been on Xelxar. This is how it will always be. And we cannot allow for your brother to distract you from it.”

“He is not a distraction.”

“But he weighs heavily on your soul,” Aldvirion replied. “Why? Have you not given him enough chances to prove himself?”

“I just want him to forgive me.” My words came out quiet as I looked away from Aldvirion, my mind seemingly traveling back several years ago, when Reddin and I were still young, still training in combat, side-by-side.

Before we were thrown against each other in the arena.

It was the worst day of my life when I was assigned to fight my own brother to the death, to kill him in front of a cheering crowd. It was also my greatest moment of weakness, too, when my sword shook in my hands, unable to bring it down against my brother’s neck as he laid on the ground below. I was set up for the perfect, final blow, and if I moved swiftly enough, I knew that Reddin would barely feel any pain as I disconnected his head from his shoulders.

Even so, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not after we’d already lost our parents, years and years ago. Reddin was the only family I had left in this world, and being the one to kill him was something that I just couldn’t bear.

And instead of sacrifice Reddin’s life for the sake of a roaring crowd, I threw my sword down beside him. I knew that there’d be consequences for breaking the code of combat, that I was going to be whipped and chained until I bled to death, my own suffering the punishment for shaming the sacred arena. The arena had always been a hallowed battleground for Xelxar, and disrespecting it by showing mercy to one’s opponent was the absolute worst thing that a warrior could ever do.

I’d never forget my punishment for my moment of weakness. They’d tied me to a pole with rough rope, right beside my brother’s still broken body, so that he’d have to watch as they tried to strip me of my dignity and pride. But even as I felt the lash slice through my skin, even when I felt its sting slicing at my very veins, I did not weep. I did not break.

I gave the arena nothing.

The entire time I was punished, I kept my eyes on Reddin’s own, making sure there was still breath in his bones, quietly praying that if I was to die, at least my brother was to live. Eventually, the warrior set to punish me with the lash grew weary from the work, settling down against the ground of the arena, even as I continued to stand.

And that was when I became Wexxon the Great. After surviving a punishment that no one on Xelxar had survived before, I went on to win every battle I fought in the arena, the crowds always cheering my name when I entered the space, warriors fearing me even when they simply saw me crossing the road. And because I would always have the guilt of disrespecting the arena panging at my chest, I always took on every battle I could offer, and everyone who was willing to offer me one, too.

And I vowed that I would never break the code of combat, ever again.

“He does not want to forgive, nor does he want forgiveness,” Aldvirion murmured. “Your brother solely seeks justice, by way of revenge.”

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“I fear we will know, sooner or later.” Aldvirion sighed before he offered me a gentle pat on the back. “Until then, Wexxon, please rest. Do not forget that you have a battle in the morning with Radpor—”

“Radpor is dead,” I replied, with a slight shrug. “But I’m sure someone at the arena will still want to engage in a battle for the crowd.”

“…Radpor is dead?” Aldvirion’s eyes went wide with surprise. “But who could have vanquished him, if not for you in the arena?”

“Rachel.” I smiled as I spoke. “My bride vanquished him by the river. He was going to kill her. I think he may have thought that she was a foreign spy of some sort.”

“Your bride killed one of the greatest warriors we have?” Aldvirion brought his hands to his waist as he shook his head. “You should be careful with that one, Wexxon. It seems she has a penchant for great destruction.”

“Yes, she does have a penchant for great destruction.” I smiled again as I spoke. “But all the best females so often do.”

I then turned to leave the main room as I offered Aldvirion a parting wave, soon heading back to my bed for the night.

 

 

“Wexxon! Wexxon!” Rachel was screaming my name almost as soon as I stepped into the bedroom.

But unlike the way she’d been screaming my name earlier in the night, it now sounded like she was in pain, like she was terrified. And as I hastily dashed across the room, my hand already pulling out the sword that’d been resting at my side, I had a million panicked thoughts swirling through my head, all at once.

I promised my little warrior that I was going to keep her safe.

What if I’d already broken that promise? What if someone had wounded her so badly that she couldn’t go on?

The thought of a life without my little warrior was too hard to bear. Even if we’d just met each other, Rachel Waters was still mine, and I didn’t know if I’d ever want another female again, not the way I’d wanted her right from the start.

When I reached the bedroom, I saw the source of Rachel’s fear and pain. There was a Xelxar female, Furlata, hovering over Rachel’s frame, her fingernails wet with small drops of blood. Furlata, while never being someone I would’ve ever considered as a wife, had spent more time underneath me than any other Xelxar female. I’d even given her one of the largest bedrooms in the castle as a token, wanting to gift her for being so accommodating even though I knew we’d never be anything more than temporary mating partners.

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