Yana admitted she may have made a mistake.
Perhaps she should have resisted the temptation to first play along for a brief while, and stepping up to the frame to then not solve her puzzle. When at first she’d felt a little smug about it, now frustration bubbled up in big waves as the curly-haired boy began first doodling her puzzle in his notebook, and then solve it. She couldn’t do much about it, except for trying to move so he couldn’t see the puzzle, though that was futile. Tsk. She was annoyed, extremely so, though most of it was aimed at herself. Never, ever, underestimate your opponent. It was one of the key phrases she’d heard time and time again both in the Etzos military, and in the Hand. She’d even said it herself multiple times to the Knights under her command. And now she’d fallen in the same trap.
This wasn’t going as swimmingly as she had thought it would. Activating her puzzle had been a big mistake. She’d figured only the individual linked to the puzzle could solve it, but this seemed not to be the case.
It was quite odd, but she wasn’t feeling as angry at herself, nor as frustrated at the boy solving her puzzle as she had expected herself to be. There was a certain calm instead, and Yana breathed in slowly and deeply, exhaling in the same way. Her mind was clear. Unclouded by the helpless anger she’d been feeling, undistracted by the lust for vengeance she’d been experiencing. Perhaps… perhaps she should just let it go. An odd thought indeed. Still, vengeance aside, Faldrun’s favor could be used for many other purposes.
Yet, her grief did remain. It was quiet now, lulled to sleep by the strange calmness that had swept her up into its arms. The strange sensation having replaced any aggression she had felt towards this group. Those emotions were gone for now, and they would take a while to return, surely. However, ambition remained. As did logic. As did her sense of duty. She’d made a deal with Faldrun, and though Yana often chose to be a little devious when it came to promises and deals, a deal made on her terms was not one she’d break lightly. Besides, this was an Immortal. As despicable as they might be, she had seen their power firsthand. She was not crossing Faldrun. She doubted he cared enough about her to shield her when the other Immortals were angered by her actions, but his objective seemed important to him. For now he was her only ally.
He’d spoken to Noth. He’d said that if the monstrous Avriel would put as much fire in his efforts to carry out Faldrun’s will, he would be rewarded with a favor, carried out with the same enthusiasm.
That held true for her too.
She could not allow this group to pass.
Still, was it worth dying for it?
Probably not, her rational side argued, the calm freeing her cold and calculating mind from the heat of emotion. However, she knew she would be going soon. How she knew? Even the Yludih did not know, but she just did. She could feel it clearly, the knowledge flickering to life as a candleflame. Faldrun had her back. She would be out here soon. He’d not let her die.
Of course he wouldn’t. He was smarter than sacrificing a pawn for naught.
Still, her attention was drawn to the Biqaj, his form changing and shifting. It took on the qualities of Rathaan, losing much of his bulk to appear thin… sickly thin even. His skin gained a bluish tone, his face coming to more closely resemble her fellow Yludih’s. Her brow furrowed. This wasn’t right.
It was nice to see him though, she hadn’t seen him in a long while. She hadn’t wanted to, stubbornly focused on what she knew to be self-destructive tendencies. Vengeance and rage. Avoiding people she was close to. For a moment, she was entranced—
Until he opened his mouth.
He spoke like a bumpkin, and Yana was roughly pulled back to the present, feeling pity for the man’s lack of intelligent speech pattern. She was aware he probably couldn’t help it, but it was a sad thing to hear nonetheless. Yvithia would have cried if she’d been in the same room as him.
“I would,” she spoke, sighing deeply, finding herself reluctant to do what she had to. “But I have a duty to fulfill. A task to complete.”
No matter what.
It was harder than expected, reminding her of the time she’d punched Rathaan during their sparring match. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him—this was the same feeling. Compassion for fleshlings? That was new. That wasn’t right. She hadn’t experienced this before. Not with perfect strangers, let alone with strangers that also happened to be … business rivals. The enemy.
An enemy was an enemy was an enemy.
Yana was a soldier.
Would she shoot Hannes if he became a real threat? Would she put her squad of Knights in chains if she had been ordered to? Or would she let them escape? Would she pretend to look the other way? No. She was a soldier. She wouldn’t like doing either of those. She’d be very reluctant to do either of those. It mattered not, she had to. Orders were orders.
“Do whatever you need to make them fail, I trust you will get it done."
Those were orders. They were the enemy.
Steeling herself, her hand reached out for the quiver at her hip, grabbing five arrows while her other arm calmly, though swiftly brought her bow in front of her. Five arrows. She couldn’t hold more in one hand.
Orders were orders.
She placed one arrow on her bow, holding the others in the hand she gripped the bow with. Being relaxed was best for shooting, for hitting the mark. She was plenty relaxed right now. She launched arrow after arrow, passing them from one hand to the other, saving her the trouble of reaching for her quiver every time. It also saved her precious trills. Five arrows shot in quick succession.
She’d decided to aim to kill, but she’d targeted non-vital areas.
There were five arrows.
One for the warrior woman.
One for the curly haired puzzle solver.
One for the Sevryn Huntress.
One for the wolf.
And one for the host of this room.
If he was injured enough, maybe he couldn’t let them pass.
There was none for the not-quite-Rathaan Biqaj. She couldn’t do it. Her face was a twisted mess of emotions, though most obvious seemed to be one of intense regret.
Perhaps she should have resisted the temptation to first play along for a brief while, and stepping up to the frame to then not solve her puzzle. When at first she’d felt a little smug about it, now frustration bubbled up in big waves as the curly-haired boy began first doodling her puzzle in his notebook, and then solve it. She couldn’t do much about it, except for trying to move so he couldn’t see the puzzle, though that was futile. Tsk. She was annoyed, extremely so, though most of it was aimed at herself. Never, ever, underestimate your opponent. It was one of the key phrases she’d heard time and time again both in the Etzos military, and in the Hand. She’d even said it herself multiple times to the Knights under her command. And now she’d fallen in the same trap.
This wasn’t going as swimmingly as she had thought it would. Activating her puzzle had been a big mistake. She’d figured only the individual linked to the puzzle could solve it, but this seemed not to be the case.
It was quite odd, but she wasn’t feeling as angry at herself, nor as frustrated at the boy solving her puzzle as she had expected herself to be. There was a certain calm instead, and Yana breathed in slowly and deeply, exhaling in the same way. Her mind was clear. Unclouded by the helpless anger she’d been feeling, undistracted by the lust for vengeance she’d been experiencing. Perhaps… perhaps she should just let it go. An odd thought indeed. Still, vengeance aside, Faldrun’s favor could be used for many other purposes.
Yet, her grief did remain. It was quiet now, lulled to sleep by the strange calmness that had swept her up into its arms. The strange sensation having replaced any aggression she had felt towards this group. Those emotions were gone for now, and they would take a while to return, surely. However, ambition remained. As did logic. As did her sense of duty. She’d made a deal with Faldrun, and though Yana often chose to be a little devious when it came to promises and deals, a deal made on her terms was not one she’d break lightly. Besides, this was an Immortal. As despicable as they might be, she had seen their power firsthand. She was not crossing Faldrun. She doubted he cared enough about her to shield her when the other Immortals were angered by her actions, but his objective seemed important to him. For now he was her only ally.
He’d spoken to Noth. He’d said that if the monstrous Avriel would put as much fire in his efforts to carry out Faldrun’s will, he would be rewarded with a favor, carried out with the same enthusiasm.
That held true for her too.
She could not allow this group to pass.
Still, was it worth dying for it?
Probably not, her rational side argued, the calm freeing her cold and calculating mind from the heat of emotion. However, she knew she would be going soon. How she knew? Even the Yludih did not know, but she just did. She could feel it clearly, the knowledge flickering to life as a candleflame. Faldrun had her back. She would be out here soon. He’d not let her die.
Of course he wouldn’t. He was smarter than sacrificing a pawn for naught.
Still, her attention was drawn to the Biqaj, his form changing and shifting. It took on the qualities of Rathaan, losing much of his bulk to appear thin… sickly thin even. His skin gained a bluish tone, his face coming to more closely resemble her fellow Yludih’s. Her brow furrowed. This wasn’t right.
It was nice to see him though, she hadn’t seen him in a long while. She hadn’t wanted to, stubbornly focused on what she knew to be self-destructive tendencies. Vengeance and rage. Avoiding people she was close to. For a moment, she was entranced—
Until he opened his mouth.
He spoke like a bumpkin, and Yana was roughly pulled back to the present, feeling pity for the man’s lack of intelligent speech pattern. She was aware he probably couldn’t help it, but it was a sad thing to hear nonetheless. Yvithia would have cried if she’d been in the same room as him.
“I would,” she spoke, sighing deeply, finding herself reluctant to do what she had to. “But I have a duty to fulfill. A task to complete.”
No matter what.
It was harder than expected, reminding her of the time she’d punched Rathaan during their sparring match. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him—this was the same feeling. Compassion for fleshlings? That was new. That wasn’t right. She hadn’t experienced this before. Not with perfect strangers, let alone with strangers that also happened to be … business rivals. The enemy.
An enemy was an enemy was an enemy.
Yana was a soldier.
Would she shoot Hannes if he became a real threat? Would she put her squad of Knights in chains if she had been ordered to? Or would she let them escape? Would she pretend to look the other way? No. She was a soldier. She wouldn’t like doing either of those. She’d be very reluctant to do either of those. It mattered not, she had to. Orders were orders.
“Do whatever you need to make them fail, I trust you will get it done."
Those were orders. They were the enemy.
Steeling herself, her hand reached out for the quiver at her hip, grabbing five arrows while her other arm calmly, though swiftly brought her bow in front of her. Five arrows. She couldn’t hold more in one hand.
Orders were orders.
She placed one arrow on her bow, holding the others in the hand she gripped the bow with. Being relaxed was best for shooting, for hitting the mark. She was plenty relaxed right now. She launched arrow after arrow, passing them from one hand to the other, saving her the trouble of reaching for her quiver every time. It also saved her precious trills. Five arrows shot in quick succession.
She’d decided to aim to kill, but she’d targeted non-vital areas.
There were five arrows.
One for the warrior woman.
One for the curly haired puzzle solver.
One for the Sevryn Huntress.
One for the wolf.
And one for the host of this room.
If he was injured enough, maybe he couldn’t let them pass.
There was none for the not-quite-Rathaan Biqaj. She couldn’t do it. Her face was a twisted mess of emotions, though most obvious seemed to be one of intense regret.
