[Second limiter released.]
The clearing stank of ozone and burned wood. Vell's feet crunched over blackened grass and shattered crystal, his favorite blade humming softly in his grip. His trademark grin was there, but something darker lurked behind it – the kind of focus that made smart people run.
The leader stood opposite him, those damned chains of his writhing in the air like angry serpents. Light caught their links, casting weird patterns across the scorched ground between them.
"About time you took this seriously," the leader said, voice rough from exertion.
Vell rolled his shoulders, letting the blade's tip draw lazy circles in the air. "What, this old thing? Just didn't want to waste the good stuff on you."
The leader didn't waste breath on a reply. The chains shot forward, weaving through the air in patterns Vell had seen a dozen times before. He stepped aside, almost casual, then had to jerk his head back as one whipped past his ear.
