The slender woman took a step back, her body trembling with effort, but she refused to give up. She closed her eyes for a moment. Then, in a desperate gesture, she summoned a gust of wind as fierce as she could manage. The gale slammed into the calloused-handed woman, who squinted her eyes against the force of the attack. But this time, she did not even flinch. She firmly planted her feet in the ground, letting the wind howl around her, and advanced further, her sword ready to strike.
The slender woman felt a wave of despair wash over her. Fatigue weighed on her limbs, and her legs trembled under her weight.
"What I love about the Chosen like you," the calloused-handed woman continued in a honeyed voice, "is that moment when hope leaves their eyes. That moment when they realize their so-called miracles won't do them any good."
