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Summary
The spell Lucien casts is simple enough: this is Caleb’s idiosyncratic rendering of Produce Flame. The largest pile of books catches light with a crackle.
Essek is startled enough that he cannot hold back his exclamation. “Since when have you known how to cast?” he demands.
Lucien grins at him. The way the burning tomes underlight his features makes him appear every bit the monster he truly is. “Caleb’s mind is a wonderfully educational place to spend time,” the bloodhunter taunts. He once again squares his pose with Essek’s. “He’s never been one to hold back, either—well, not with me, at least.” With that, Lucien casts the cantrip again, igniting a second pile of books.
“Were it not for Caleb’s regard, I would have already disposed of you like the viper you are,” Essek spits, taking a measured step forward. He enjoys the way Lucien flinches, apparently fighting the instinct to step back. “You are nothing but a low-life vandal. In fact, in Xhorhas, we have a word for people like you—”
Lucien affects a flirtatious pout. “What, ‘homewrecker?’”
Series
- Part 3 of Trouble Comes Running