Khon moved the blade like it wasn't a weapon, but an extension of the air itself.
Not a swing. Not a cut. Just... presence.
Each motion was light, deliberate. A test. A memory.
Like he was getting used to something he hadn't touched in a long time. Something too dangerous, or maybe too sacred, to use often.
He didn't look at me.
Just moved the blade, gently through space, as if anything more forceful would shatter the moment.
"What's it called?" I asked, not expecting an answer.
He gave one anyway.
"Whispering Blade," he said.
"A heritage passed on to the next."
Heritage. Which meant Xhan had something like it. Maybe even the same. If this was the younger brother's inheritance, I wondered what was the elder's.
But I wasn't here to study bloodlines.
I was here to end them. I stepped forward. Ready to fight.
