Korren led with brute force, hammering compressed origin energy in sustained bursts. The woman to her left, Tae, shifted to cutting attacks, thin lines of energy designed to slice rather than impact. The third witch went low, channeling into the balcony floor itself, trying to destabilize the ground under Jaenor's feet.
The blast hit his palm and dispersed. Outward, sideways, in every direction except through him. The force of it stripped the remaining balcony furniture away completely, bent the railing into abstract shapes, and cracked the glass of the suite windows behind Jaenor in a spiderweb pattern.
The howling wind filled the silence that followed.
Korren's crystal had gone dark. Completely depleted, her reserves emptied in one shot. She was breathing hard, her hands shaking now for different reasons than before.
Jaenor looked at his own palm. Then lowered it.
He moved.
