Right now?" Atlas said, sitting up straighter.
"Right now," Tongen said. He hadn't looked at Atlas. His eyes were on Jelo.
Jelo felt the shift move through him—the specific internal change that happened when something crossed from preparation into reality. Not anxiety exactly. Not excitement exactly. Something that lived between the two, in the chest, that made the edges of everything sharpen. The training ground felt smaller suddenly. The worn stone under his feet felt like something worth knowing the exact texture of.
He looked at Tongen and understood without needing it explained that this wasn't going to be a controlled demonstration. Tongen wasn't going to stand in place and let Jelo perform technique at him. This was a test—the real kind, the kind where nothing was arranged for Jelo's benefit, where Tongen found out what Jelo actually had rather than what Jelo thought he had.
He settled into his stance.
Tongen didn't take one.
