How to Train Your Channeler

[Oriena]

She just watched him, silently. Life crushed Sasha, and he let it, but she had no interest in making him any smaller than he already made himself. There was no answer to his question anyway. Life was cruel. It made a survivor of Oriena in the same way it made a victim of Sasha. Because it could.

He completely folded in on himself. It stirred no pity inside her, but she didn’t look away either. Her brows were lightly drawn – whatever thoughts might be passing behind her eyes anyone’s guess. Ori didn’t respond to his thanks any more than she did to his visible distress. She just watched him with an expression of displeasure, or maybe frustration.

When he stood, she did too. Not in a predatory way, just to let him go. Only her arm moved without any conscious thought as he shifted to do just that, palm on his chest to block an easy exit. There wasn’t any force behind it; it wasn’t a move to spark confrontation, just a gesture to make him pause. Her eyes were still heated with their usual challenge despite the wretchedness of his gaze, but it wasn’t the kind which would push to breaking.

“I’ve felt one of them feed. I know how shitty it is,” she said. “But it’s what they wanted in exchange for their aid.” She glanced at the device where it lay, motionless now, but only for a moment. It wasn’t an apology. It was barely an explanation. Neither were owed, and it wasn’t why she chose to speak –  she’d already discarded his gratitude, and she wasn’t after vindication. If he pressed he might get more, but people rarely dared – they just accepted what Ori gave and scuttled out of her way. She would let him go if he shoved passed. Probably. She’d tolerate being hated. She’d tolerate being feared. But she’d decided she didn’t go to all this trouble just to let him flee straight back into the shadows.

“Open your hands.” It was still a command more than a request, but a more merciful one; there was no impetus behind it this time, just an expectation.