It had been some time since that enraged roar ripped itself from her throat. At that moment, the eyewatering levels of essence stored in her body burst free, swallowing her surroundings with overwhelming pressure.
“Incredible,” the man breathed, the snakeborn boy still lying at his feet.
The essence then wound back in on her, whipping up into a tornado that surrounded her body. She was charging it with all her might, consequences be damned. The wind fae had been sent flying back by the release and was now unconscious. The dragonborn’s tail snaked through the air before slamming into the ground, causing an explosion of stones.
The man swiftly tilted his knife and blocked every shard that flew in his direction. “I see you’re still as wild as ever.”
He sounded disappointed to see the girl forget herself in her rage and channel all her energy into aggression. Meanwhile, he could maintain his composure at all times, carrying out his duties without needless sentimentality. To let oneself be influenced by emotion was unacceptable. That was his truth, a truth they all shared.
Regardless, this girl’s abilities, while unrefined, shone brighter than a diamond. Seeing it made his lips curl.
The storm of stones died down. Though the man was ready to approach her, he paused and took a deep breath. He could see the dense mass of essence gathering at her throat on the other side of the dust cloud.
He cackled. “Already discovered corporeal reforging, girl?”
Corporeal reforging was the transformation of living tissue into arcane tools. She had been applying the technique long before the snakeborn started experimenting on her. Her success was the result of countless failures, each ending with her secretly coughing up blood. Her regenerative abilities meant she was able to teach herself via brute force alone. The first part of her body she transformed was her throat.
“I suppose I should fear whatever’s about to come from your mouth.”
Then came a mighty, terrible roar. The dragonborn could see the air before her whirling violently, her concentrated essence hurling it outward. Its volume was also amplified and would have done devastating damage to the eardrums of anyone standing close. It stripped the bark from nearby trees, scraped the surfaces off rocks, and sent pebbles spraying outward. The force of it was essentially a small-scale natural disaster.
The roar left the dragonborn with a searing pain in her throat as she searched for the man’s whereabouts. The unarmed figure darted toward her, taking advantage of the gaps in her awareness as the dust sprinkled down around them. He reached out for her throat.
“There you are, snot rag.” A hoarse voice accompanied the knife curving its way toward his eyeball.
The man displayed a flicker of surprise at being located, barely shifting his weight to avoid the blade. He thrust out the heel of his palm in a counterattack and cackled.
“I should’ve expected that. Dragonborns are tough.”
He slammed his hand into the girl’s temple. All that left her lips was a single grunt as her consciousness left her. She collapsed to the ground.
“Just a touch faster, and you might have gotten me.”
The man was ready to take the three children back to the home, but he wanted to first figure out how the dragonborn had seen through his invisibility. According to the information he had on her, she was good at detecting essence but little else. He had silenced his footsteps perfectly and cut off his essence. She shouldn’t have noticed him.
As he beat the dust from his robe, he spotted a bamboo skewer sticking into the back of his shoe. Though a tiny thing, it had been formed into an arcane tool; it was letting off a small amount of essence.
“Tiny, yes. That’s exactly what I should’ve been on guard for,” he muttered, flicking off the skewer that gave him away. His eyes fell to the boy who had planted it on him without him noticing. He cackled. “Impressive.”
While the boy’s combat skills left much to be desired, his talents meant he would make a formidable assassin. He deserved as much praise as the dragonborn did for her raw strength.
The forest was filled with screams and cries. The children were being rounded up, though it sounded like they were resisting.
The survival training was a test to determine who would go on to become a disciple. Though it had now come to an end, the screening was far from over.
CHAPTER 5: A DISTORTED SPIRAL