Chapter 258
Shoal steps into the room like he owns it, his arms folded behind his back, that familiar, easy grace in every step. The mirrored panel seals shut behind him, erasing any trace of the control room he'd been hiding in. I glance at Wake, and I can practically feel the tension radiating off of him, stiff and sharp like the edge of a blade.
“You should be proud,” Shoal says, addressing Lile with a tilt of his head. “Not many can say they lasted that long against the Scourge of the Abyss.”
Lile bows slightly, chest still heaving, his body glistening with sweat and melting frost. “It was an honor,” he says, though there’s something behind his eyes—resentment or maybe the sting of defeat.
Wake doesn’t even look at him. He crosses his arms, his jaw clenched tight. “Why am I not surprised you were behind this late-night training session?”
Shoal’s eyes gleam. “I thought you might relish the opportunity. You’ve always been eager to test yourself.”
“I’m not your lab rat,” Wake snaps. “And I’m not interested in training your personal militia.”
Shoal’s smile doesn’t falter, but there’s something clipped in his response. “You continue to think the worst of me. For once, this isn’t about wars between gods and mortals. This is an opportunity—one our people haven’t had in generations. The protectors of the Clans, together under one roof. Learning, teaching. Growing.”
I glance at Cora. She raises an eyebrow and says in her smooth, clipped way, “Very idyllic of you. Prioritizing diplomacy and mending ancient rifts. So magnanimous.”
“If that’s the one thing I manage in this lifetime,” Shoal says with a shrug, “then it will have been a life well lived.”
Even I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes. Gods, the way he talks—like everything’s part of some epic myth retold through time. And yet…
He’s not wrong.
Didn’t we celebrate the same thing when Wake and Khale fought side by side in Ao? Didn’t I feel it myself, that sense of something bigger forming, a hope for unity, not division? If Shoal is actually managing to bring that to life—even a little—who am I to scoff at it?
But Wake? He’s unmoved.
“If you’re really that committed to building trust,” Wake says, stepping forward. “Then let’s test that sincerity. Fight me.”
Shoal blinks, clearly caught off guard. “A duel?”
“No weapons,” Wake says, stripping off his gloves and dropping his staff and curved blade to the floor. “No tricks. Just you and me. Unless you’re not up to it.”
Shoal’s gaze sharpens, the diplomat fading, replaced by something leaner, darker, more dangerous. “You always did enjoy a challenge.”
“And you’ve never turned down an opportunity to put on a show.”
The room feels different the moment Shoal steps fully onto the mat, stripping off his coat and handing it to a nearby guard with a quiet word. Wake doesn’t move. His eyes track every movement his brother makes, calculating, cold.
Shoal’s shirt is plain, sleeveless like Wake’s, revealing the lean, roped muscle of someone who doesn’t train constantly but still knows how to use his body. His stance is measured—less coiled predator, more practiced duelist. Still, I recognize it in his posture, in the angle of his shoulders: Make no mistake, Shoal is cut from the same cloth as his brother.
“Well then,” Shoal says, his tone infuriatingly casual. “Shall we?”
Wake doesn’t answer. He just moves.
The first clash is fast. A blur of limbs and weapons as Wake lunges low and Shoal sidesteps, bringing up his arm to parry. Wake’s blade from Ao glints in the low light, sweeping upward in a perfect arc that should have opened Shoal from hip to collarbone—but Shoal twists at the last second, redirecting the momentum with his own blade.
The sound of metal on metal rings out, sharp and unforgiving.
Cora and I stand to the side, watching. I feel the tension vibrate in the soles of my feet. This isn’t just a spar. This is something else. Something deeper.
Brother versus brother.
I pray that it doesn’t get out of hand.
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