How would he feel, if all mysteries were laid bare before his gaze, all uncertainty removed and the outcome of every fight known before he even drew his blade? An interesting mental exercise, to be sure, but not one which actually required much consideration on his part. In that particular scenario, he would feel...nothing. And so, nothing would change.
For one, he pretty reliably DID manage to anticipate his opponents' moves. Not in any supernatural sense, of course, but still in time to act on it. It was no miraculous feat; even among well-trained fighters, elaborate creativity was rare under stress, put aside in favor of direct, efficient action most likely to produce the greatest effect at the least possible expenditure of a warrior's finite stamina. But even that rare artist on the battlefield had to contend with the reality that there were only so many effective angles of attack. No matter how strong or fast they were, there were only so many ways their body could realistically move. Haliat Kryze had made a point of diligently studying them all for his own use, and he could study it in his opponent with the detached analysis of a man who feared no death save the one he could visit upon himself in true weakness.
But that was all a lesser point. The reality of it was this: the man Karrys spoke to now was not the warrior she spoke of when she made reference to duels. Haliat Kryze was a man, and no matter how carefully he hid them, he was subject to all the weaknesses that implied. Doubt, fear, anger, the lot. Every man or woman who ever had need to fight for their own life or that of others had to figure out what to do with all that. For a man who detested violence, yet found it too much in need and himself too skilled in its application to simply put it aside in good conscience, the question was more urgent still, and his solution was to make sword and wielder one and the same. To empty himself of anything not related to the matter at hand. From the moment his beskad left its sheathe to the moment he perceived it could safely be returned, he was as absolute as the weapon itself, a vessel of singular intent. Any skills he possessed, any unique talents, were simply the shape of that vessel, a tool to be used. If precognition was among those talents, it would be used no differently from any other. It would not diminish the thrill or the satisfaction of battle, because there was nothing to diminish.
Fascinating, that this reality was missing from Karrys' appraisal of him just now, if perhaps less so than the display that followed. He couldn't say exactly what Karrys had seen in his face, beyond a suspicious narrowing of his own eyes, but if she believed he needed the reassurance, she had misjudged him. Haliat may not have been the strongest of Jenn's warriors, or the most powerful, or even the most experienced. It may well be that in no aspect at all was he the greatest of the bunch, and yet his will remained his own. A lifetime of attempted indoctrination and cultural pressure could not alter that, nor could the Duchess...nor could Karrys. This much, he did not doubt.
For what it was worth, however, her eyes were indeed quite lovely. Clear and pitiless as a deep and newly thawed mountain tarn. Striking to behold, but fallen into at the most dire peril. Any danger of that, however, was dispelled when Tyto Ruus interjected himself into their conversation. With a chuckle, he turned in the direction of the gathering at large, hand falling to the bes'bev which Karrys had earlier spoken of. Perhaps the next song would have a tune which he could accompany. He did not immediately remove himself from her proximity, however. And while he did not deem everything as necessitating a verbal response, he would not ignore her entirely.
"Ask of you? Very well. Right now, my utmost curiosity is whether you believe you know me well enough to actually like me. Is that necessary for the sort of diversion you have in mind? Because I fear that's something I do require before I contemplate putting aside my ven'cabur. Do not mistake me; this exchange has been edifying. You're arrogant, which I suspected to begin with. But you're also generous," he added with a gesture to the bottle in her hand. He had politely declined the second draught, for while he enjoyed a good drink, he was not fond of enjoying to the point of truly addled senses. Nevertheless, he had enjoyed sharing the first round with her.
"Which I did not. The revelation is pleasant, but I would still need more. Besides, exhibitionism does not suit me, and it seems we've attracted an audience. But if you're truly interested in sharing more, in knowing and being known, perhaps we will converse again. Sans voyeur."
Karrys
