The very air around them seemed to tingle, sending sparks racing up and down Basteaux’s spine and resonating deep within him. Even his breath felt charged. It was almost disappointing when he crossed his eyes to look and there was nothing unusual about the slow exhalations from his mouth.
Even such a minor divergence from the task set before him earned Basteaux a reproving grunt. The seventeen-year-old Duskwight straightened immediately and squared his shoulders beneath the black cloak he wore. This was a test unlike any he had encountered before. Any slip in attention or diligence would end in disaster for more than only him.
