"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Rekhyt." You state, plainly.
"There was no jealousy in that." Cephie snaps, "These Outlanders test things with the point of their knives."
"It's one way of getting to the point, no?" Rekhyt quips, cheerfully, his grin curling wider. "You have some experience with our ways."
"Mmh. Enough to not take offense." Cephie nods, slowly shifting, changing her features until they reflect her true self. The pale, black-haired waif leans against you. Just as tall as you and adroygenous in appearance. Gone are the rough feminine features of Iyal, and the dark skin. She smiles her razor's edge smile at Rekhyt. "But if you do that again, I will murder you in your sleep."
"You can try, but point taken." Rekhyt quips again, nodding.
"This is Cephie." You offer, after a beat, trying hard not to draw attention to yourself in the middle of two circling Barkers. "I'm glad you two set aside your...grievences? None of us are enemies here-"
"Ye-" Both begin, catching themselves when the other speaks.
[15]"But, Rekhyt, I am no Outlander." You begin, quiet and calm, keeping a firm grip on the temper that threatens to rise up. There is no need to use your Voice, no, you deliver just enough menace without it. "If you continue to attack my allies, that will definitely change."
"...I can respect your wishes, Goddess." Rekhyt nods, after a moment's consideration, his tilted head straightening. "Yes. My siblings have their parts to play. Elder siblings always get the best toys. Especially so when they're more favored. What of our relationship? The only reason we haven't killed each other is because our father will disinherit the first one to make an open move. They support mass slavery and all the sins that go along with that. "
"But," Rekhyt begins, nodding, "They have power and wealth, and you need both for war. Especially if Samkrend dies during the campaign..."