"What do you want?" The girl asked sourly.
She didn't turn around to acknowledge him. She didn't stop walking. Neither did he.
Suddenly, the Ranger threw himself onto her, his tan arm smashing across her face and his green eyes glittering with malice. Both of them fell onto the floor, and the girl struggled fiercely under his grip.
"Don't take this the wrong way, girl. I've got nothing against you."
Nythera stared back defiantly with cold aqua eyes. Her fingers twitched and a bolt of purplish lightning forked out between her thumb and index finger. There was a quiet buzz, and Zhoom was thrown backwards onto the rough ground by the force of the explosion.
"Don't mess with me, Zhoom. Just leave the money and go," Nythera ordered curtly. She raised a glowing hand to prove her point.
"Not going to happen, Nythera," he spat, rolling back onto his feet agilely.
"Don't say I didn't warn you," she cautioned.
She brought her hands together in a sharp motion and let the lightning flow between them. The crackling noises grew louder and louder until she finally released it. Glowing strands of lightning flew straight at him from all directions. As they neared, he grabbed his curved blade, pulling it smoothly out of the sheath in his back, all the while dodging the dragon girl's attacks.
Zhoom grinned. He slashed out with his sword, deflecting the lightning strikes back at Nythera effortlessly.
"Good, but not good enough!" he smirked.
Nythera narrowed her eyes and reached both hands above her head, as if praying to the heavens. In a flash of blue light, a staff topped with a purple orb appeared in her hands.
The Ranger ran straight at her, watching her moves through slitted eyes. Ice-blue met emerald for the slightest minute, then Nythera sent a large blast of energy straight at him. Zhoom vaulted over the girl completely, landing behind her, with his sword coming down straight onto her head. Nythera spun around, her staff in her hands and her eyes glittering with fury as she blocked the near-fatal blow. In one fluid motion, she grabbed the hilt of her enemy's blade and pushed it behind his head, while sending them both onto the floor.
The purple-haired girl found herself in the exact same position as Zhoom, on the floor with her staff behind her back, with her other arm twisted uncomfortably in his grasp.
"You're pretty good, mage," he allowed, a sneer playing on his lips.
"Give me a few more minutes and I'll have your head!" she hissed.
Zhoom grinned.
"Again, you underestimate me. Do you think Sek-Duat the fifteenth would pick me to do his work if I weren't the best?"
"I frankly don't care. Why can't you do something more productive with your life? Gold is gold. Don't you care about all the lives you're messing up?"
The Ranger's expression remained hard and cynical but something in his eyes shifted.
"No."
"Fine. Be like that."
Nythera wrenched out of his grasp and they both fell into fighting stances simultaneously, landing crouched and ready.
Suddenly, Zhoom slung his sword over his back and walked away. The purple-haired girl smiled, running after him.
"Wait. Zhoom."
She threw her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear.
"What do you want?"
The Ranger smiled truly for the first time in his life.
"You."