“That was—“ Devon trailed off, looking like he didn’t know whether to be thrilled at having a front seat to their match or terrified about whether he’d ever reach their level.
He needn’t have been concerned. He showed promise. Graydon wouldn’t have taken him under his wing otherwise—no matter who he was related to.
“We were right. The Mea’Ave has opened the adva ka,“ Torvald said on a shaky exhale.
Devon’s hands clenched at his side.
For him, this was exciting news. The chance he’d been waiting for all this time.
The desire to prove himself was what drove him—and so many other Tuann.
Torvald studied his son, the look in his eye distant.
Graydon could see his desire to hold Devon back. To keep him safe and protected where there was little chance of danger.
“We must step out of our forebear’s shadows at some point,” Graydon told the emperor. “You taught me that.”
As much as Torvald wanted to protect Devon, it would only cause harm and do him a disservice in the end. Whether Torvald liked it or not, his son had too much of him to stay on the child side of the adva ka forever.
Torvald touched one of the swollen bruises Graydon had left on his face. “Next time try not to hit so hard.”
Graydon’s bow was a touch mocking. “Only if you promise to do the same.”
“Impudent child.”
Graydon raised his head. “Weren’t you the one who taught me to be this way?”
Torvald’s scoff made Devon hide his smile. “Don’t blame me for that. Harlow is the one responsible. I simply inherited your bad traits.”
The emperor handed his blade off to one of his waiting oshota.
“Send out the call, my Face.” The emperor strode toward the door. “It is time to see if your Kira is as capable and trustworthy as you claim.”
Several days later, chatter rose from the seats around Kira as she stared out the window of the hovercraft. An endless expanse of trees spread to the horizon as the craft zoomed by, its air wash ruffling their crowns.
In the far distance, Kira could make out a break in the tree line and the impression of a large structure.
Before she could determine its details, the craft’s trajectory changed.
Bored with the view of trees, Kira looked away from the window.
The craft was at capacity, full of adva ka hopefuls and their seon’yers. There was an electric buzz in the air that fed off the excitement and nerves of those around her.
The prospective Roake hopefuls for the adva ka numbered a handful. In addition to Joule and Devon who sat quietly by themselves on the opposite side of the aisle from Kira, she recognized two.
She knew Rheya and Blake in passing from her time spent training in Roake.
The rest of the dozen were strangers. She was betting from the looks they were sending her, part envy and part curiosity that they had passed the uhva na, Roake’s own smaller version of the adva ka, before her.
From what Joule had told her, it was rare, but not unheard of, for a Tuann to go straight from obtaining a seon’yer to the adva ka.
Usually, it took years. Sometimes decades depending on how strict the seon’yer was and how talented the yer’se.
The fact that not only Kira but also several others in the same training class as her were advancing so quickly had likely led to jealousy.
Kira dismissed their gazes with a shrug.
Envy her all they liked; she’d earned her stripes. For her, the adva ka was merely a formality.
