He should have led with this advice to the others. Though none of them spoke it just yet, their indignation was ripe; Kilik could feel the scoffing machination of the group. Interpreting the vibes of a room was easy for her as breathing, and with the way these bloodthirsty louts wore their ambitions on their sleeves, she could tell they all saw little merit to her being here. Kilik did not doubt the prowess of B'halian soldiers; however, just like she did not know what they were capable of, they had an iota of what she was capable of, especially should she take this "exercise" seriously.Careful.." he cautioned in a low voice, his tone tinged with coy concern. "Underestimating your opponents can be a costly mistake. Each of these recruits was handpicked as the most prodigious prospects Bhalia's tribes have to offer." His eyes swept across the multicolored sea of hardened expressions, their depths reflecting the weight of his words.
Another Joro stepped forward, dwarfing her in stature. His presence immediately intimated most of them. Despite being significantly smaller than most, if not all, of the people here, she was not moving an inch. Taking him down might break the morale of some of the others. She was sure, even out of the 200 here, that she was a prime target...good, the more, the fucking merrier.
"Prepare yourself, Kilik. In the next two minutes, these training grounds will become a cesspool of weakness. There are more than two hundred applicants, but we only have space for a dozen recruits." His smile held a mixture of confidence and detachment as he headed toward the door of the main fortress. "I trust in your skills enough to not bid you farewell, but I care too little about you to wish you good luck. If you are weak, you will die. If not, then you will understand.." he said, leaving Kilik to meditate on his words and cultivate her mind for warfare.
She was sure they all had their reasons for being here and for wanting to become part of B'halia's elite. She knew many, if not all, of them, were raised on this very soil and suffered through ordeal after ordeal training for this day. She could respect their tenacity and, even more so, their ambition. But the double-edged sword of their secular experience did not know that Kilik, too, had been trained as a warrior since birth hundreds of leagues below sea level under pressure that made her a different breed entirely. She felt light as air on the surface, yet grounded, rooted even in her stance. Besides this, she had the ancient teaching of her master, the Blade Dancer herself, to lean upon. In short, they would also do well to take their leader's advice; underestimating her meant death. By the time he returned, she would be counted among the twelve.
"At first, I was going to hold back...but now..."
She thought to herself as Delion spoke his final words before leaving. Initially, she had sought to retrain herself as much as possible for fear that her blood might grow too excited, beyond her control. However, she remembered the year she spent with Eralia, the knowledge and discipline that came with mastering Noa Banyu's art—the Yuzurenai Nami's creation and the adoption of Kira. Everything had led to this moment. She had completed step one and was getting here. Step two ensured everyone, including herself, knew she was here to stay.
"That is a luxury I cannot afford"
She was here to test her limits and to push beyond them. She could feel their intentions; they did not mean to let her leave this battle alive. Holding back could cost her life and ruin her chances of fulfilling her destiny. So, she kept her stance firm, her naten flowing and solidifying her. There had never been an Atlantean to touch the land of B'halia before her, and after today, they would see firsthand the intensity of the sea incarnate through her. She did not move, her eyes staying trained on the one who came before her...this Qualen. Like a tiger with veal in its sights...