What Maea managed to damage with claws and heat, Hadama regenerated with fresh ice, even as he used his shoulders and bowed head to brace the dome from within. It was not a comfortable defense, but it was an effective one for a short time. The cold bothered him not at all thanks to his passive magic, but he knew enough of Caido's eldest and most recently awakened race to know how uncomfortable the harsh chill would be to an Ancient. And while he would normally have been content to wait the younger woman out, confident in his own stamina...
The night was not young, and he would need to return to the Eye before moonset.
If she had kept her distance he would have had to thin the ice to see her, weakening his shield and putting himself at risk for a counterattack. But she had conveniently placed herself atop the dome, where the heat of her body and the molten metal of her stripes ate into his ice. He could tell from where it needed reinforcement where she was at, and his eyes gleamed sapphire with satisfaction.
Blunted spears of ice suddenly sprouted from the dome as it became a pufferfish rather than a turtle's smooth shell. They were rounded at the tips rather than sharp, punching outward with strength enough to bruise without cutting. Maea would have a moment's warning that something was shifting beneath her before the dome went from defense to offense, and once the heat was no longer pressing down on the shield Hadama would turn it back to water and straighten up, leaning on his trident once more as he considered the molten tiger calmly.
"You are strong enough," he decreed, head held high and ignoring the small gathering of late-night onlookers who stood outside the barrier, pointing at them and whispering like a midsummer chorus of cicadas in the dark.
The night was not young, and he would need to return to the Eye before moonset.
If she had kept her distance he would have had to thin the ice to see her, weakening his shield and putting himself at risk for a counterattack. But she had conveniently placed herself atop the dome, where the heat of her body and the molten metal of her stripes ate into his ice. He could tell from where it needed reinforcement where she was at, and his eyes gleamed sapphire with satisfaction.
Blunted spears of ice suddenly sprouted from the dome as it became a pufferfish rather than a turtle's smooth shell. They were rounded at the tips rather than sharp, punching outward with strength enough to bruise without cutting. Maea would have a moment's warning that something was shifting beneath her before the dome went from defense to offense, and once the heat was no longer pressing down on the shield Hadama would turn it back to water and straighten up, leaning on his trident once more as he considered the molten tiger calmly.
"You are strong enough," he decreed, head held high and ignoring the small gathering of late-night onlookers who stood outside the barrier, pointing at them and whispering like a midsummer chorus of cicadas in the dark.
