Jareth erupted into a hearty laugh as Kaleb stepped forward to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him.
His voice boomed and his silver aura flared brighter with his laughter.
"Look at you, brat! And here I was thinking they'd have to drag your sorry hide out of this mess as a corpse. Guess you're not so useless after all,"
Kaleb shifted his somber gaze to him but said nothing. Jareth's laughter subsided, as he took note of Kaleb's unreadable expression then his eyes narrowed.
"What's with your mana brat?"
Jareth asked, but still, Kaleb's focus remained unmoved. He looked back to the plains and drew his shortswords, their blades shimmering with the same ethereal blue that pulsed faintly around him.
Finally, after all the provocations, he spoke.
"Forget about that," he said, his tone as cold as steel. "Focus on what's coming."
Jareth's grin faded just as quickly as it appeared.
