“—And who are you?” Senn tensed, prepared for mockery or worse from the Voltaris. He expected the question to be for him, but he refused to let the Deathsinger antagonize him. However as the silence stretched, he realized the red eyes were not looking down at him.
The Deathsinger was staring at the Tidesinger with something like mild interest. Not the hatred Senn would have expected from mortal enemies. Nothing in the Deathsinger's gaze seemed to suggest that he knew the Nestoris at all.
Achillean didn’t speak, Senn did not turn to look at him. To see what the Nestoris’ expression was. Instead he straightened his back, and spoke for him.
“That is the Tidesinger! Or have you already forgotten him!?” The silence that followed was long, and heavy.
The Master Voltaris’ face shifted through emotions so fast that Senn could barely see them. There was a brief flash of confusion, then something almost like fear, and then rage. Pure white rage.
“He is the Tidesinger?” Senn flinched at the venom in the Voltaris’ words. His grip on his sword tightening and eyes locked onto the threat in front of him.
Not noticing the smile on the Tidesinger’s face. If he had noticed, he would have seen the way his cheeks pulled back too far, or the one too many teeth that were in his mouth.
