Devon hesitated. "Yes. That’s part of it. Those with pasts are forced to confront them by reliving the most difficult pieces."
Kira bared her teeth. Good enough.
She had plenty of those moments to relive.
"You choose the depth to which you lose yourself," he said. "Most only peer into the surface. That is difficult enough to survive."
Kira straightened and stretched out her hands, tendrils ofkireaching out. Droplets of water lifted from the mirrors and puddles around her to stream toward her. Faster and faster until rivulets turned into airborne rivers.
Loudon's eyes widened. "Stop her. She’s trying to pull us into her mind."
Kira grinned. That was the hope anyway.
"Devon, I'm sorry about this," she said over her shoulder.
The water surged before he could finish his question, encasing the four of them. Kira looked up, finding the wizened face of the babylu-ongpeering at her.
I really hope you're right,she thought at it.
As a plan, it was a shoddy one at best. Here's hoping Graydon did his part.
Kira floated as a voice greeted her. "Yo, Phoenix, are you done lollygagging, or can we go kick some Tsavitee ass?"
*
Harlow's blade whistled past Graydon's nose, centimeters separating Graydon from death as he leaned back the barest bit. Had Harlow's blade connected, it likely would have split Graydon’s skull.
"Feeling a little enthusiastic this morning, are we?" Graydon lunged, his blade flicking up.
Harlow blocked, barely preventing himself from being skewered in the side.
Now that their greeting was over, the real fight could begin.
The older Tuann bared his teeth, whipping his en-blade around. Graydon evaded, parrying as Harlow pressed his attack. Faster and faster until their blades were a blur—fluid and graceful in a beautiful dance as they tried their utmost to kill each other.
Graydon raised his blade, blocking the Overlord's downward strike. The blades screamed as the combatants locked together
"You've gotten old," Graydon said through gritted teeth, his shoulder and biceps screaming as the Overlord bore down.
"Did I train you to talk or fight?" Harlow aimed a vicious kick at Graydon's knee.
A toothy smile spread across Graydon's face,kiflooding him as he strengthened his body. The strike stung, but it failed to break the knee as Harlow intended.
Graydon shoved the Overlord's sword away. He didn't give the Overlord time to recover, stepping into his space and hammering a punch into the other man's exposed side before ducking out of range.
"That'show you trained me," Graydon said with no small amount of satisfaction.
Appreciation glittered in Harlow's eyes as he touched his injured side. "Now that your focus has returned, perhaps we can get serious, Little Storm."
Graydon chuckled as he settled into an offensive stance, weight evenly distributed, his arms loose and relaxed. "It's you whose focus is lacking, old man."
Harlow didn't respond, the tip of his blade lowering.
Graydon's legs tensed, his front foot sliding the slightest bit in preparation for his attack.
They burst into movement at the same time, charging each other. Graydon's name ripped through the hall in a scream. As one, Graydon and Harlow shifted to meet this new threat, blades coming up.
The oshota placed themselves between the two inside the room and the screamer.
