An hour passed and Kestrel took away the scroll from Lancet. Lancet thought that meant it was time to begin actual sword training.
But he was wrong.
Before he knew it, he and Kestrel were engaged in a duel. But rather than real swords or even training swords, they were fighting with the air.
Air-blades, air-swords — whatever Kestrel chose to call it. That was what they both held as Kestrel toyed with Lancet throughout the entire duel.
She stood at the summit with one hand loose at her side and the other guiding the pressure in front of her, expression calm, almost bored, as though she were demonstrating something embarrassingly simple rather than trying to carve him apart with invisible air.
Lancet lifted his sword and tried to answer, but Kestrel moved first.
Her air-blade snapped forward in a clean diagonal cut that struck the stone beside his foot and threw loose grit into the wind.
