Mage-killer.

The words bubbled up in Tria's head as she watched Lucanis approach from his crypt behind the kitchen. At once, she released her body from the defensive posture she'd been in, turning to greet the newly recruited Crow with her staff still in hand.

The Fade's sky seemed to shimmer and coil as he stalked into the cobbled courtyard, with the sun–if you could call it that–beaming down upon his shoulder-length raven hair. Lucanis smiled politely when he was close enough for her to see and began tying his hair back with a leather cord produced from his trouser's pocket.

"Good morning," she offered, returning the smile. Tria eyed him up and down, noting the twin daggers sheathed at each hip. "It looks like we had the same idea then."

Lucanis' dark eyes flicked to the staff, forged of silverite and topped with a polished amethyst, in her grip.

"Indeed." His accent curled over the word, as smooth as honey. "Would you mind some company? It's been awhile since I've been able to spar with others."

"Well," he added, "Voluntarily, at least."

Tria paused wordlessly while a tiny spear of sympathy pierced through her. "You're more than welcome. Do you need to stretch first?"

Lucanis shook his head. "Not if we go slow in the first round." Slowly, he unsheathed his daggers, nimble wrists smooth as water during the gesture.

Tria eyed him; the way his calloused fingers wrapped around each hilt; how he stood loosely with each knee bent, as if preparing for her to leap at him right there and then. Instead of attacking with her staff, however, Lucanis tracked her movements while she stowed the weapon away, exchanging it for the dagger and a strange orb she pulled from the worktable nearby.

"Ah! I've been meaning to ask about that," Lucanis interjected. "I saw you use them to fight with when breaking me out of the Ossuary. May I have a look?"

After accepting the dagger from Tria, Lucanis took his time in examining the spellblade, taking particular interest in a set of runes etched into the paragon's luster above the guard. "You know… the Venatori mages do not fight with anything other than their staff," he murmured. "Something about the 'purity' of the conduit, or so I've heard."

Tria scoffed at that. "Of course it is. "

Smirking, Lucanis returned the spellblade to Tria and put a respectable amount of distance between them. "Want to show me how that works? I don't think I've ever fought a mage using such unfamiliar equipment."

Tria began stalking opposite Lucanis, head held high as she flicked a hand, activating the orb. Immediately, a cloud of violet lightning encircled the metal. Miniscule fissures of static reached out to her at once, kissing the bare skin of her arms and neck.

"Really?" she replied. "From what I've heard, you've earned quite the reputation for your prowess in putting them down."

Lucanis momentarily froze, eyebrows shooting high on his forehead. "My career as a Crow encompasses far more than that, Rook. Mierda . Have I done something to offend you?"

"Not at all. I'm merely vetting the renowned 'Demon of Vyrantium' for myself," Tria answered. She gestured for them to continue, and their slow, mirrored dance began anew. "If I do seem grumpy, it has far less to do with you than it does my lack of sleep last night."

"I can relate." Lucanis lunged, executing a short combination of slashes that Tria promptly deflected away with her spellblade. "Good! Now, try that same combination on me. Only, use your magic."

When Tria opened her mouth to argue, Lucanis cocked his head, grinning sleepily at her before she could utter the words—a good thing too, since the expression seized her lungs and unexpectedly caused her heartbeat to gallop.

"Now, Rook," he chided playfully. "I don't want to hear it. I'm not a Dellamorte because I learned how to dodge every attack, trust me. If I can't keep up, then I deserve a little electrocution."

Tria shook back her long, lavender curls and darted forward, using one hand to throw the sizzling magical orb at Lucanis. He moved nimbly, sidestepping once, twice, before somersaulting over the last of her strikes. When he righted himself, Lucanis exhaled sharply, the lines around his eyes slackening in surprise. "It didn't even touch my skin and I still felt its heat through my clothes!"

"So much for slowly," she laughed, despite herself.

Lucanis flashed that odd, sleepy grin again. "Call me old-fashioned, but I am much more amenable to being shocked by a beautiful woman. Much like yourself, Rook."

Tria abruptly stumbled, kicking a foot against the other and wind-milling in order to regain balance. The metallic orb-–bobbing up and down now-–shivered violently in response before falling to the ground entirely.

Lucanis growled, tilting his face to the sky. "Damn. I didn't mean it like that ."

"Of course not," Tria said sarcastically, though a hint of a dimple still poked through her cheek.

"I didn't! I just meant to say—"

THUD!

The sound of metal and stone sounded off around the perimeter of the Lighthouse's courtyard, followed by a quieter, muffled noise.

"You know," Tria began, crouching beside Lucanis' prone body, "before you try and walk that back, I'd think about what it would do to my soft, sensible feelings first."

Lucanis, wheezing, gazed up at Tria and the electric orb which circled her in a lazy arc once more.

"Noted," he gasped, rubbing at his sternum. "I may be a quick learner, but I'm also very stubborn."

His eyes, swimming in warmth, combed over her face, lingering on the contours the orb's lightning cast against her jaw. "So, I may have to learn this lesson a second time. Or a third. Depending."

"It's a good thing that I am an excellent teacher then," Tria replied, placing a hand on what was presumably, his now-aching chest. She patted it once, lightly, and added, "Now, I'm going to go get some rest, and I would suggest that you do the same. If I didn't manage to crack your sternum, we can get Bellara to heal the bruises later on this afternoon."

"But, Spi—"

The metallic orb suddenly crackled in warning, splaying its neon light all over his face while he rolled his eyes again.

"I'll have Harding watch for any funny business so you can sleep easily."

Lucanis' voice darkened somewhat. " Rook ."

" Now ," she ordered, a hint of a smile upon her mouth. "Or I really will knock your Antivan ass out. Do you take me for a liar?"

"No," he answered, though a little unhappily. "I have no doubt that you would." When she extended a hand, Lucanis then allowed himself to be helped up, wincing a bit from where the orb had struck him.

"Good," she said, their hands still clasped together. "I need my new sparring partner to be in top form from now on. Especially if I'm to learn anything of actual value."

"Mhm," was all Lucanis replied.

Neither of them had yet to let go.

Tria was the first to extricate herself, flashing a noncommittal smirk before turning on her heel. "Good night, mage-killer!" she called out. "Sleep tight! Don't let the demon in you bite!"

She had to stifle her laugh when his next reply was an uncharacteristic shout across the courtyard.

"I am NOT a mage—"

And only when Tria shuffled through the large double-doors leading into the gathering room did she hear his final exclamation—one that she would work her very hardest to elicit for what was sure to be an inappropriately long time—

"MIERDA!"