Page 53 of The Night Prince 3
“Well, well, you always do surprise me, Rahven, but it is because I do not know you as well as I should,” Vex mused. “Let’s remedy that.”
“I have nothing to say to you,” Rahven gritted out.
He thought to punish Vex for bringing him here and separating him from those he cared for. Rahven wouldn’t–or couldn’t–let his guard down with someone who had played a dirty trick. At least, that was likely how his son viewed what he had done.
“I would say what a shame! But we both know that speaking is the worst way to get to know you. No, no, we should… dance,” Vex murmured.
“I do not dance.”
His voice dropped to an almost sensual whisper, “Oh, yes, you do.”
And suddenly between Ardreth and his bare throat, there was another of the Niri blades. Rahven’s eyes widened. At least he thought so because of the way his eyebrows rose. Those sunglasses really were quite good. With a quick strike, Vex had his son scampering back a few feet.
“This,” Vex indicated the blade he held, “is Ruehnar. In English, it means–”
“Desolation,” Rahven whispered.
“Yes. You are remembering Lytheril.” That was the name for the Kindreth high language. “Were you ever told of the Niri blades?”
He swept Ruehnar through the air in a beautiful pattern. The blade was a blur of movement. Like Ardreth, it, too, had a matte black finish. There was no reflection in the metal. It absorbed all light. Just like it absorbed blood and life.
“I do not know,” Rahven answered.
“They are a set of very powerful blades that I forged myself with the help of my good friend, the King of the Draesiwen.” He smiled fondly. The heat of the lava at his back reminded him very much of being in the Draesiwen capital city’s forge. He’d spend hours and hours, days upon days, weeks upon weeks, years upon years, centuries upon… Well, he had spent much time there. “Each one has a special power that can be unlocked by the right person in the right situation.”
“What is Ardreth’s power?” Rahven asked even as he held it lightly in his hand, at the ready.
“It can cut down armies with a single blow,” he answered.
If Rahven was impressed, he didn’t show it. He just nodded as if filing that information away for later use. His son believed he would access that gift himself. And, in truth, Rahven likely would given the time. He’d already made it a Blood Weapon despite there being no emotional storm. At least not on the outside. But Vex knew that wasn’t true. For as calm as his son outwardly appeared at all times, inside he was a whirlwind of emotion. That was why words betrayed him, because they were not as quick as his thoughts.
“And what can Ruehnar do?” Rahven asked.
Vex waggled his eyebrows. “Are you worried I will use its power against you?”
“You wish to dance,” Rahven answered darkly.
“Dance not kill, Rahven. Let us get to know each other,” Vex said and advanced.
Both had risen up on the balls of their feet. They circled each other, moving lightly, so that if there had been sand beneath them, there would have barely been a ripple to show their movements. He snapped Ruehnar forward. Rahven blocked it. The Niri blades rang like crystal and bright blue sparks flew through the air. Never had they been used in battle against each other.
Rahven suddenly dropped to his haunches and swept a leg out towards him. Vex though was no longer there. He had jumped into the air. He somersaulted over Rahven’s head, lightly drawing Ruehnar’s tip along his son’s shoulder. The black jacket’s material parted like butter under a hot Sun. He lightly landed on a round island of ire in the magma’s flow. Rahven snapped towards him and was fully on his feet. The sleeve of his jacket hung open at the shoulder. He touched it briefly. Vex had not even scratched his skin.
This was a dance after all.
“Come, Rahven! You cannot give up after one strike!” Vex laughed and gestured for his son to follow after him as he hopped to another boulder of ire in the magma flow.
Rahven stared at the precarious islands of solid rock in the sea of flames. Then he looked over his shoulder towards Illithor. He was considering simply abandoning their dance and looking for his friends. Was he doing it out of pique? Did he think he had no chance to best Vex? He didn’t, but still.
No, he simply doesn’t care. I cannot goad him into anger. Which, again, makes this all being an accident that much less tenable. He was younger then to be sure. Less in control of himself. Maybe what happened then has caused him to forever be more cautious. Never to ‘let go.’
“Rahven, you won’t find them without my help,” Vex said with a shrug of his shoulders. “I assure you that this is true.”
Rahven studied him again. “Why are you doing this? To waste time?”
“This?” He gestured between them. “Spending time with my son? Getting to know him? Maybe even teaching him a thing or two? Or don’t you believe I can teach you anything about fighting?”
That last part had Rahven’s interest peaking. He did think that Vex could teach him. He wasn’t so arrogant as to think he knew it all. But then Rahven squared his shoulders as if to physically resist the urge to learn from Vex. The desire to improve. The desire to know. Was it fear of the magma holding him back? He didn’t think that.
