Private The Dragon's Wisdom [Class]

[Ryuu Rei]

Cold, polished concrete met the soles of an almost sickly woman’s off-brand sport shoes. Not a sound echoed in her wake despite the desolate emptiness of the main hall of the Academy. A thin sheet of chakra covered the soles of her shoes. Reflex by this point. Years spent as a secret super weapon, then a spymaster, and now a rabid gardener…one learned to be quiet just simply by nature. Though these days the chakra socks came with another use, which was snapping the connection she had with the ground.

The ex-sennin shrugged up the long jacket that covered her business casual attire. Thick worn out leather torn from one of the many monsters that roamed the country with her bare hands. It had been fashioned years ago at a special request to take in her bulk; now it looked comically large. Trapped in the world she had been for three years had taken its toll, and even as she blazed a trail through the medical ranks…her weakness was clear. A strong gust of wind could knock her down. Technically, she was still supposed to be on bed rest. Yet ever a walking bad habit factory, the ex-sennin refused to sit still; as usual.

Her reasons to walk in to her old stomping grounds? Curiosity. Having finally given a chance to reduce her immediate medical studies, the kunoichi turned her attention back on the clan and everything that had happened in her three years away. As predicted, there was the usual - low head count on new members and zero adoptions since the last incident. At least, it was. Staring right at her was a new request for adoption that had been, just that day, denied. The girl in question was already exhibiting signs of lacking touch with their reality and the suspicions were as stupidly high as ever. With a grimace she preformed a jutsu right there that copied the paperwork without the denial, signed it herself, and gave it to the requesting family. They couldn’t let fear of a curse potentially bar a child from home. She, couldn’t.

Taking a left at the corridor entrance, the clan head slowly made her way down the old halls leading towards a set of classrooms meant for low-level jutsu or paper-only lectures. She had requested the middle three be coordinated off so that the leader of the Ryuu Clan could witness and take proper stock of their newest clan member. She had already heard down the grapevine the child had a preference for explosives not seen in some time. Immediately understanding the worry among the fools of her clan, she decided to keep to a 1-on-1 class for now. If Nozomi was indeed already taken to some craziness, of course Rei would need to set up measures to keep an extra eye out but, not before checking.

Poor kid could just be quirky.

[Class Open for Ryuu Nozomi]

 

[Ryuu Nozomi]

Nozomi felt it before she heard it. That faint shift in the air, like a subtle pricking along her skin that told her someone was there. Not just anyone, either. The quiet was too deliberate and too controlled. Whoever it was moved with the kind of stillness that came from years of making a choice to be unseen. The classroom where she sat smelled faintly of paper and dust. The uncertainty of why she was called to this place was troubling her still, was she to be held accountable for some act that she had committed or was this to be something benign, such as personalized instruction.

The light slanted across the worn wooden top of the desks, catching on scuff marks which told decade-old stories. Nozomi sat cross-legged in the center, hands resting lightly in her lap, trying to silence the urge to fidget. The hallway outside was silent enough that she could hear her own breathing fill the air around her.

The door slid open without the normal rush of sound, just a faint scrape of wood. Nozomi’s spine straightened automatically, eyes lifting to meet the figure in the doorway. The woman was taller than she’d expected, draped in a long leather jacket that hung loose on her thin frame. Not gaunt but not a picture of perfect health either. The jacket looked like it had once fit someone of much fuller muscular form. Light caught on her hair, and her eyes were sharp in a way that made Nozomi aware of every inch of herself.

The woman's gaze swept over Nozomi once, and in that single look the girl felt catalogued, measured, and weighed. Was this how others felt when she gave a similar gaze? The woman stepped into the room and closed the door, the quiet sound of it sealing them in. Nozomi watched her move... not the heavy-footed approach of most people, but a slow, deliberate path that took in the corners of the room. There was something about her presence that pressed against the edges of Nozomi’s senses.

She thought she saw the smallest flicker at the corner of the woman’s mouth, though it vanished too quickly to be sure. The silence that followed was long enough for Nozomi to hear the tick of the clock on the wall. She kept her breathing steady. Nozomi believed that she recognized this woman. Was this... Rei? The leader of the Ryuu clan?

A sense of fear but also fulfillment filled Nozomi in the moment, and even her chest expanded looking as if it were ready to explode.

The clock kept ticking, and the air in the room felt heavier than when she’d first sat down. Nozomi didn’t move, but she was acutely aware of the other woman’s posture, the slow measure of her presence. There was no conversation yet and this felt more and more like it was an assessment.

"Good Morning." She dared to break the silence and the words felt like porcelain shattering against a hard floor. She assumed this was meant to be a class or a training. Yet, it began to feel more like an interrogation and thoughts of the scenes she'd seen beneath the city flickered back into her memory. A nervous energy filled her core as she began to imagine how it might feel to have her fingernails peeled back by the woman standing before her.

Then, she tried her best to put such thoughts from her mind, yet the fear lingered.

WC: 573 [Marked for Training]

 

[Ryuu Rei]

Nozomi wasn’t what Rei was expecting. Upon stepping into the classroom she could feel every inch of the floor, the walls, the ceiling, and even the wind on the window. Anything and everything wood touched sang to the woman’s power of the element. Upon looking down at the small blond child there were two thoughts that went through Rei’s mind. The first, and foremost, was an immediate scowl, unchecked from a deep seated hatred for a certain blond cousin that had cursed her clan. The second was a grimace of self chiding, as the floorboards told the ex-sennin that the child before her was just that; a child.

Blond hair was rare in the Ryuu clan, and with good reason. Even when a person’s natural genes should cause their hair to naturally turn golden, they would frantically dye it any other color. Blue, was more exceptional, than blond; and this was due to Tama’s influence. It also didn’t help that the shade was just a few gradients off of being the white color that denoted a Cursed Ryuu. Rei’s own pale green hair seem to shimmer with strands of that same white, a proof of her leap over the edge of insanity and return; a trip made twice now.

So to make up for that scowl, Rei reached out a hand as he hobbled towards Nozomi that appeared to be meant for her to shake. Before the girl could stand naturally, the floor’s boards would groan, twist, and warp to raise her up from the floor to seat in a chair that put her eye level with the teacher’s; the hand continued to remain extended for her to take.

“I would like to start with an apology, if you don’t mind. The twist of my cheeks may have shown a modicum of disgust, but it wasn’t meant for you; it’s just…your hair. The color leans close to the shade of white, and in our clan, that is a symbol of crisis. Regardless of that fact, I would like to implore you to keep your hair’s tone to whatever you want. I’ve spent too long on trying to chase the superstition from my family to force a child to change her hair color.”

Hand taken in greeting, or not, the frail woman then sat down where there was no seat waiting, but the floor sprung up once more to greet her this time; and lower Nozomi so they continued to be on eye level. Rei sighed in relief, her hands moving to gently massage her thighs that ached from the walk while attempting to ignore the pain in her spine. With a deft hand she removed the mirrored shades, revealing crimson hued irises but without the threatening magatama that made the Uchiha infamous.

“I have brought you here, alone, as a meet-n-greet from the leader of the Ryuu, to our newest member; and to assess your strength,” she gave no quarter. Nozomi was correct in that she was being assessed, tested, and being seen to but…there was no malice in her voice. A touch of warmth, instead, laced the harsh truths,
“We are still somewhat a young clan compared to Kumogakure’s oldest families, but because we accept adoptions of any kind there comes with it an internal structure that needs to be seen to and that is, no offense, to see if you’re…crazy. I know, I know, it sounds off as a mental disorder shouldn’t even be considered when it comes to allowing a child a loving family…but…well, the Ryuu aren’t normal.”

Her hands, scarred, rough, and yet somehow delicate from the frailty of her condition, reached into her large coat and removed an entire folder. Her fingers gently ran over the words of the girl’s name printed upon them before flipping it open to see the information copied from her adoption paperwork. There was blanks left open in boxes, and with a flick of her wrist a pen appeared in Rei’s hand that tapped against the empty page to get the ink flowing.

“So tell me Nozomi…how do you feel, about murder? Not assigned assassination, or, an order from your superior to remove an obstacle; your full heart’s opinion on the removal of life itself.”

 

[Ryuu Nozomi]

The air in the classroom was thick with unseen pressure, the kind that pressed against skin and bone until even a child could feel its weight. Dust motes swirled in the shafts of light that slanted through the narrow windows, their golden drift at odds with the tension that knotted in Nozomi’s stomach. She sat perfectly still, her small hands folded neatly in her lap. She had learned long ago that fidgeting marked you as nervous, and nervousness marked you as weak. Though her body was still, her mind ticked forward relentlessly, a row of detonators waiting for the barest spark. She had walked into this chamber knowing she would be watched, measured, and evaluated. After all, everything is a test, but this still felt different. She knew that some saw her not as a girl, not as an orphan, not even as a student, but as something more dangerous.

A tremor ran through Nozomi when Rei’s approach included a chakra fueled demonstration that caused the very floor come to life. The shift in the classroom was more than movement. It was an announcement, an unveiling of power, and a display of practice. Nozomi remained seated when the wood beneath her shifted, groaning and twisting as if alive, her grey eyes widened, though only faintly. The floorboards rippled and rose, lifting her upward into a seat that had not been there before. It was the sort of display meant to impress, or perhaps intimidate. She felt a bit of both as her heart thudded sharp against her rib. If this was a test, she would not fail by shrinking, and so she sat straight with proper posture.

The woman who commanded the floor before Nozomi was Ryuu Rei, the Head of Clan Ryuu, and she would put forth a simple gesture to the young girl. The gesture was a simple handshake, but the weight of it was anything but simple. Nozomi looked at the pale hand and the slight tremor betraying exhaustion or perhaps illness. Only for the space of a breath she hesitated as a thousand false warnings went off within her mind. Then, she placed her small hand within Rei's. Nozomi's grip was light. Intended to be respectful and deferent, yet firm enough to show that she did not break easily.

When Rei spoke of her hair, the strange pale-gold that had always drawn too many eyes, Nozomi’s lashes lowered, and shadows brushed her cheeks. Of course, ever since she had come here it was always about her hair. In the farmsteads the other children had whispered about how pale white locks were cursed, and how being blonde was merely a step away. She had once considered dyeing it black with crushed ink to see if the whispers about her would stop, but deep down she knew it would make no difference.

Yet, here was Rei, a woman carved by rumor and superstition more brutally than any child could ever be, telling her she should keep it despite even the Leader's own initial reaction. Rei assured her that there was still a choice. The words, while intended to be uplifting, still cut deeper than Nozomi wanted to admit. Her lips parted slightly and when words came, her voice was soft and steady,

“I don’t want to change it.”

That was all she said aloud. Yet as the words spilled forth there was a strange burning within her chest, relief, it felt like being given permission to exist.

The floor shifted again, lowering her gently as Rei settled into her own conjured seat. Now, their eyes were level and Nozomi studied the woman carefully, similar to how she might study the wiring of an unfamiliar explosive. The crimson irises without the dreaded swirling Tomoe. The stiffness in her shoulders, the way her fingers kneaded at her thighs as though every movement was stricken with pain. The fact there was an exhaustion which no rank, reputation, or amount power could fully mask.

Rei was dangerous, yes. Yet, she was also wounded. Perhaps both truths were essential to her power. Nozomi’s gaze sharpened in calculation, contemplating how to turn the engagement in her favor. Then the words came forth from Rei as sharp and unrelenting as a kunai thrust into the heart of an unsuspecting victim;

“So tell me, Nozomi… how do you feel, about murder?”

The question struck like shrapnel, rattling against the cage of her ribs. Children were not supposed to be asked such things. Children were meant to be sheltered from death, not interrogated about their opinion of it. Yet, Rei understood that Nozomi was not truly a child, not in the ways that mattered. Perhaps that is the purpose of this meeting, to strip away illusion and lay bare what is hidden within.

Nozomi did not answer immediately. She let the silence stretch, and carefully weighed her words the way one might weigh powder before mixing explosives.

“Murder,” she repeated softly, tasting the word and allowing it linger on her lips. It was bitter and metallic upon her tongue. Still, she did not look away.

“It feels wasteful. Life… requires so much to create. Years of food, lessons, mistakes, and progress. To destroy such a thing without purpose would be like retiring a tool before even testing to see if it works.”

Her eyes narrowed in this moment, the gray color sharpening like the edges of honed steel.

“Sometimes though... tools just break. Sometimes they turn against the hand that wields them. Then, maybe, you don’t have a choice. Murder can be necessary if it means protecting your own life or if one death means more life can prosper.”

Her throat tightened, but she pressed on.

“I’ve thought about it in great detail... What a display of true art might entail, and the loss that would come with it. It is an inevitable result when dealing with explosives, and sometimes even the goal. I expect to create many such displays over the years, and I hope they all serve a worthy goal. One that is not... wasteful."

Nozomi's gaze flickered downward to the folder Rei had drawn from her coat, her name written across the top in neat, damning ink. Her voice turned slightly cynical and her tone flattened,

"You're probably wondering if I'll just burn everything down to bask in the glow and the heat of the blast... No. I don't crave chaos. I want to understand how things work; people, munitions, everything..."

Her chest rose and fell, the rhythm taut with the effort of speaking such truths aloud. A long pause stretched between them. Then her lips curved, the faintest, sharpest edge of a smile created a shadow far too old for her young face.

“Besides,” she added, her voice slipping into something dry and razor-thin, “explosions are more frightening when the target is alive to hear them.”

The words lingered, acrid as smoke yet masked in wit. She could not help but think of the other children, the ones who sneer at her or whisper behind her back. It would be a lie to say she never imagined hurting them, or even killing them within the darkest corners of her mind. Though there was still a large divide between thought and deed, as she had never acted upon such thoughts. Her hands unclenched, fingers pale against her lap. She leaned forward slightly, meeting Rei’s crimson gaze with her own storm-grey eyes.

“I hope that is a good enough answer,” she said, her voice steady now. “Murder is wasteful but sometimes necessary. I would have issue doing it simply because someone tells me to. If I kill, it will be because it’s the best or only option.”

She was still a child, yes, but she spoke with the precision of someone who had already imagined the entire world as ash and has since come to the realization that it requires careful precision to determine which sparks to light.

The wood beneath her creaked faintly as though it has been listening to the entire conversation. She sat silent, watching, and awaiting the inevitable response.

[Marked for Training, Word Count: 1350]

 

[Ryuu Rei]

Rei felt the bony hand of her conscious grip her heart when the blond child before her simply stated she didn’t want to change her hair color. It was a painful reminder. Despite how much work she had put into squashing the prejudices towards hair color, of all things, her time away had clearly made the Ryuu worse off. The child before her looked to be of a sharp wit just from the way their eyes focused on things. There was a natural curiosity that caught the older woman’s attention first, and as Nozomi began to describe her feelings on murder, Rei’s hand moved. The scratching of pen against paper bounced off the walls, seemingly louder than the blond girl’s vocalized intentions.

Her answers were beyond interesting, and the flourished they ended on would have mildly disturbed the clan leader were it not for the incredibly lucid answer. She was a child of intent. Reason. Every action had a thought and was very likely a single step for a four-step process ahead of everyone else. Nozomi immediately outed herself as a connoisseur of explosives, stating their purpose and her unique view of usage; the same way she viewed life itself.

Many children fell into two categories when it came to shinobi training in Kumogakure. They were either overtly murderous with ill-intent, or they were completely innocent. Both types of kids needed hand-holding to help guide them be the best they could, as neither nature was indicative of their actual talent. Rei had seen many of the former type get outshined by the latter in the early career, with the caveat that the more innocent tended to burn out faster. They were killers, after all, and violent tendencies always, flourished in the military.

Nozomi, as far as the Ryuu clan head could tell, was neither. She was far too calm, even if it was a mask to hide her obvious nerves at being constantly singled out. At the same time, she was also far too intelligent to be considered innocent, and her answers belied these things to the ex-sennin who scratched it down into her dossier. Unlike most explosive experts she didn’t revel in the chaos they could inflict, but seemed more tuned towards an expressive form of artistic value. As if each sudden burst of heat and flame was a signature, and this came through in the way she described her feelings towards taking another’s life.

“A far more reasonable answer than I’ve been given before,” Rei stated simply, “You show far more promise than your peers in that alone. Yet a sound mind is only a single advantage to being a good solider. Most end up losing a grip on that someday, and our clan has a tendency to…advance it. I’ve personally lost mine twice. Two different curses, both from our clan…” her eyes looked up, ruby and piercing, “Are you prepared for that?”

Rei stood up slowly, the chair she had conjured from the wooden floor pushing her up with branches that seemed to grow out of the sickly woman herself. The sound of snapping wood cracked over the empty classroom as she broke free of the chair, two spikes left in her wake. The teacher used the desk to hold her up as she went to the blackboard. A trusty piece of chalk was already there in the metal grooves beneath the teaching utensil, eagerly waiting for a loquacious user. Gripping it between two fingers her shaky hand raised up and touched the chalk to board where the weakness became suddenly still. A steady, gentle, stream of chakra stilled the muscles and reinforced them to hold true as her wrist and arm moved to draw. Upon the blackboard Rei sketched out a very detailed image of the human body, female for the example, and drew little lines to each point of the complexity of their chakra coils.

“Men,” she started writing out the upper spiral of the coil right before it merged with the cardiovascular system with the label, ‘princeps spirae,’ “have a weak point right at the top of the coil that women don’t have. During puberty the coil lengthens to match with body growth, with the stark difference being that male coils do not grow along with their bodies but instead, simply stretch. Where as female coils break down in parts, and restructure themselves - usually matching up with menstrual cycles. Due to this, female soldiers will always have the potential for two things.[/glow]
“The first, is that our chakra reserves tend to dwarf those of our male counterparts. Talent and the ability to use said chakra is almost always left up to the person, though, so our abundance don’t mean squat unless you hone it. The second, is that due to our massive reserves of chakra, we can sober up instantly when imbibing drugs and alcohol; which is why for years kunoichi were primarily viewed as spies. However, it’s the first part that you need to consider, Nozomi."

The teacher turned from her intricate written description and faced the child, long green hair whipping back from the motion. Her hand, shake now returned, lifted the white stick of chalk to point at the young Ryuu,
“The Curse, is activated through abundant use of chakra. The more you manipulate the elements to spit fireballs, or throw lightning, the stronger it becomes. Eventually, it weeds itself into your mind, making you question your own personality and actions. ‘Did I do this because I wanted to, or was it the Curse?’ I have had those very same thoughts cross my own mind far more than I am willing to admit. Before long, training itself becomes a risk factor.
“Your opinion on murder itself is fascinating, to me at least. You already see yourself and others of our cloth as tools, which is appropriate, and the wisdom of deciding between following orders to kill can, and has been, the full deciding factor of if our country continues or falls. During the last war against the country of Tenouza, we had to ask ourselves at one point if violence against the shogunate was the correct answer. Or, if we should continue to be a military service in the shadows, answering to whomever was able to take control of the power vacuum that opened during that war. We chose the former, and have since turned all of Lightning into a much greater nation. But as a Ryuu, the more you continue to use your chakra, the higher chance that your choices will no longer be your own. Are you willing to continue down this path, knowing that it could end with an explosive finish of intent not of your own?”

Somewhere during her little speech, Rei’s hand switched chalk for pen once more with such speeds it seemed magical. In her other hand was the folder once more, ready to scribble down a response. Rei wanted the world for this child, wanted to ensure that she had the willpower to take everything she had the raw opportunity to grab. Nozomi found herself in a position Ryuu children very rarely sat; in the realm of a true shinobi genius. The clan leader could help mold Nozomi into her best self, but time was a very rare commodity. She wasn’t going to push to make sure the kid was able to get proper education that matched her clear-cut talents if they didn’t have the will to do the same for herself, and fight the Curse with every last fiber of their being.

It was a tough road to walk but, it could be done. Rei was living proof of that. She held no reservations about having been afflicted by their clan’s illness, and wanted Nozomi to see what it had done to her seniors. If she could still push through despite such a heavy promise of harsh reality, the kid would have the makings of a powerful shinobi - otherwise she was just another bomb that needed to be gently handled and defused when it came time.

 

[Ryuu Nozomi]

The chalk scratched against the blackboard in sharp and steady lines that seemed to etch themselves into Nozomi’s mind as much as they did into the enamel of the board. She sat there, small and pale against the conjured wooden chair with her back straight, at attention. Her storm-grey eyes fixed not only on the diagram of chakra coils but on every subtle twitch in Rei’s weary movements. Her mind is a furnace, constantly burning with possibilities.

The way Rei spoke of the curse was not a myth built of imagination to frighten children. It was not a theory, or an abstract thing. It was lived torment that the older woman had fallen into and twice clawed her way out of. For the first time it became a disease with shape, a wolf waiting at the edges of their clan, ever patient but inevitable. A realization that it really could come for her.

Her lips parted, and she let a single simple word slip out. “…Prepared.”

The syllables hung in the stale classroom air, it was too fragile to sound like defiance, and yet too deliberate to be dismissed as the muttering of a child. Her small hands folded tightly together in her lap, nails pricking faint crescents into her skin. She would seem lost in thought as if she were studying the chalk anatomy Rei had drawn. As if her focus was on the veins of chakra threading like rivers through the human body. A look of fascination crossed her face, where her cheeks rose in thought or curiosity.

“If that is what I must face,” Nozomi said at last, her voice steady but low, “Then I'd rather meet it on my own terms. Seems better than waiting for it to come at me unprepared."

She tilted her head, studying the spiral where the chalk marked the coil’s crown as the weak point in men. Then the broken restructuring in women spawned an idea. It cracked something in her thoughts open like a lit fuse. Her eyes gleamed, quicksilver flashing with a dangerous curiosity. Then, with a spark of childish boldness, she looked back to Rei.

“You’ve beaten them twice. Which means there is a way. D..do they haunt you still? The curse? Is that why you’re sick?”

Her voice softened, but the question was meant to strike like a knife point. She wanted, no, she needed to know. If survival left scars that could never fade, then she wanted to trace the shape of them before they carved themselves into her. Perhaps she could define such a thing and find a way to shape her future disabilities.

Her small legs shifted against the wood of her seat. The ground still hummed faintly, as though it was listening all along. The wood itself was attuned to every vibration between the teacher and the girl. Yet, her mind marched ahead, refusing to stop.

“How much chakra does it take?” she asked, her tone suddenly brisk, almost mathematical. “Is it like fuel? If I use too much too fast, will it burn through me quicker? Or is it… a measure of control? If I can ration it and just thread it into careful channels instead of floods... Would I be able to keep it at bay?”

She frowned faintly, frustrated by the likely lack of numbers in this equation. She longed for variables that could be measured, for ratios, and for a defined formula. Something to be solved. Yet even thought of such a thing made her heart quicken. The idea of mastering instability, of turning even the poison of her clan into another formula to control, thrilled and terrified her in equal measure. Yet she did not flinch.

Nozomi turned her gaze back to Rei, her expression sharpening with a sort of resolve in her eye.

“You asked if I’m prepared for that path,” she said. “I have to be. I wasn’t welcome in my home and I was thrown away. I was saved by the scouts of Kumogakure and particularly, a Ryuu. My dad saw promise in me. So, I will walk the path all Ryuu must walk. Even if it leads into madness. I can only promise that I will fight this future the same way I fought to stay alive long enough to be sitting here today.”

Her chest rose and fell, faster now, but her voice didn’t waver.

“I may never be the strongest, or the fastest, but I have never broken just because the world wanted me to. If the curse is a sickness of the mind, then maybe…” she hesitated, smiling bitterly, “Maybe I am best suited for it. My mind already doesn’t stop. It is the thing which keeps me awake every night. It turns everything into fire, fuses, and endings. If that is the battleground where a war is to be fought then I believe I can master it too.”

The room felt smaller as she spoke the words and for a long moment after, she said nothing at all.

Her storm-grey eyes locked with Rei’s crimson ones, unflinching. Then, softer, a note of wonder slipped into her tone, almost child-like in nature once again.

“It is a terrifying thought though. To think of a future where I might not see the beauty in it anymore. To have been so lost in the performance that I lose sight at the crescendo. To light the fuse and not understand the climax seems like a fate worse than death.”

Her throat tightened, but she held the gaze, letting Rei see that fear without shame. A thing she did with purpose, because behind it and beneath it, was pure iron. Nozomi straightened up within her seat, small shoulders squaring as though she carried a weight much larger than herself. Her hands uncurled from her lap, one rising faintly in a subtle gesture toward the chalkboard.

“Teach me...” she said simply. “About the curses. The differences and how I might be able to defend myself from them. How to beat them. If it’s a sickness, there must be a pattern. I have to imagine there are rules, and I want to learn them. I want to understand the math of it.” She exhaled, slow, regaining control.

Her words hung in the air, stark and steady, spoken not like a child seeking approval but like a soldier declaring intent. Then, as if some great force inside her had finally spent itself, Nozomi sat back, small again in her chair, her fingers spiraling loosely around one another. Though Rei may notice that her eyes did not waver. Instead, they gleamed with storm light.