Lyrisa sheathed her scimitars slowly, the tip of one blade brushing the ground. Her gaze flicked to Vathrian. Then to the other houses who had watched without interfering. Then back to Damien, still seated, utterly still, death energy pulsing gently around him.
She exhaled slowly and stepped back, returning to her cushion.
If Nyxara could hold back, so could she. There might still be use for the others before this inheritance was through. No one passed JerAxle's trials alone.
And Damien…
He remained silent, his presence growing denser by the minute. The longer she watched, the more certain she became, he wasn't just refining death energy. He was becoming it.
