Finnian’s lips quirked.
A tense silence fell upon them.
The heads of the Council swiveled to the end of the line, to Cassian.
“You may proceed.” As the last word left his mouth, the Council vanished as a collective, their forms dispersing into silky ribbons across the hall.
Mira extended her arm; her sea whip formed in her grasp. A cylindrical shape of whirling water, slender and long, coiled along the floor like the tongue of a beast. Spiked teeth tore through its skin, ashen and covered in algae and bone.
Freya took two steps back, slow and calculated. Concentration parted her lips.
Do not let her push you into a defensive state.
Mira launched her whip, and it hissed through the air.
The muscles in Freya’s legs clenched, grounding her heels. She threw her arm overhead and the snake-like end of the whip coiled around her wrist. The teeth elongated and pierced through her flesh.
Take her head on and shut down her attacks.
She enclosed her hand into a fist and grinned slightly. Trickles of blood seeped down her forearm. The churning water of the whip solidified and shattered. Shards of ice scattered like broken glass.
She lifted her other hand, and the pieces levitated, reformed into sharp ice, and shot towards Mira.
Swiftly, Mira folded both of her arms up into her chest and the icicles halted. She flipped her hands and pushed them outward. The icicles melted mid-air and the water gathered, forming a large channel. She reached for the end.
Freya closed the distance between them with graceful haste before the water could solidify back into Mira’s whip.
Her weakness is close-combat.
Freya punched her fist through the spiraling chamber of water.
Mira dodged her hit and threw her foot out, landing a powerful kick in Freya’s gut.
Finnian’s heart pulsed in his throat. He kept his eyes on Freya’s footwork. She regained her balance, jumped forward, bent her knees, and struck Mira’s wrist. The water in her control fizzled and splashed across the crystal floor.
Draw in near and keep there.
Freya raised her hand right above her chin and her index and middle finger straightened together. The puddle at their feet assembled and sharpened into a spike. She thrusted her fingers up and it skewered Mira’s shoulder. The tearing of her meat and flesh carried through the hall.
She wobbled and her back hit a pillar. The crystal structure trembled. She gaped at the thick spike sticking out of her torso.
Finnian’s lips curved. Such emotion was a beautiful sight to witness.
Puncture her confidence by taking hold of the sea.
Freya looked up and reached both arms towards the ceiling. The chandeliers hanging above shook. Tremors traveled through the soles of Finnian’s feet and up his shins.
A large crack ran across the vaulted ceiling, and a surge of water burst through. Its rafters crumbled like rotted wood. Debris rained down across the crowd. Whirls of vaporous wisps filled the room as deities teleported out of the way.
Through the gaping hole of the ceiling, a vortex of the sea-sky violently churned overhead. It was like the sea itself reached down with an inexorable hand to devour Mira.
Mira rushed to evaporate the spike in her shoulder. She pushed her spine against the pillar and held up her palms.
The current slammed into her, its collision sounding a roar across the hall.
Mira remained upright against its force, her raised arms shaking against its powerful weight. An attempt to fight for its control.
Finnian’s jaw clenched. Of course, it wouldn’t be enough to knock his mother off her feet.
