Her, I leave back in the dirt with nothing but my body, my movement, the barest of what she too could be capable of; my Wrath the wind beneath my wings.
I reach a wide-eyed Teren and Nomi and order them, “Stay behind me!”
Then I whirl, not waiting to see if they’ve obeyed, to unleash the kata I’ve mentally prepared with a quick movement shortcut to trigger it—a wall that’s more like a shove.
Defense is not really my strength.
But if I have any chance to avoid making this worse than it already is, for Teren’s sake even if my own is already lost, in feeding into Mujin’s narrative, then I can’t simply murder them all.
I have to find something else to do with my wrath.
The wall does what it needs to, taking the brunt of the blast before dissipating, as I slowly maneuver our trio around the priests’ formation, back toward Zan.
The priests don’t let up.
Eraya, back on her feet, is feeding them power again, decreasing the effectiveness of the Wrath I deployed to break their unity but not negating it entirely.
It’s not enough, and my frustration mounts.
What are my centuries of meditation good for, if not this?
Where is the space formeto imagine more for what I can be?
All I can do is muddle through.
Like a person, perhaps.
The thought is unexpectedly bitter.
Because I am a person, but I’m notjusta person, am I? A sage ought to do better.
Then again: maybe no one is just a person.
Maybe that’s the point.
Maybe we all can only do our best.
But despite the fact that my katas are merely fending the priests’ attacks off, not accomplishing anythinghigherorbetter, we get back to Zan without further incident, the priests’ offensive slowing at the end.
Almost there.
I recognize the forms they’re executing: This will be a big one, if I let them finish it.
If I let them shoot not just at me, but at Zan, who’s held the line; at Nomi, who’s only ever helped people; at Teren, who was simply born this way.
Instead I spin into my own form, holding back my scream to pour that energy into my magic.
They want to take me out in one final blow?
Fuck it all.
I’llshowthem a final blow.
These priests’ training on how to fight sages is weaker. They’re too used to their power not being contested.
Well I am fucking contesting it.
I am faster.
