The first cyclone left his hand with a sound like tearing cloth.
WHOOOSH!
Gray stepped off the line and let it eat a market stall instead. Wood, cloth, and a tray of bottled souls exploded into the alley.
The crowd made the noise Cael wanted.
"Stand still!" Cael snapped.
"...Don't feel like it."
The second cyclone came lower, raking the street at knee height.
Gray hopped the rim of it, landed on a broken crate, and felt the wind try to drag him back in.
Against a tired Peak Saint, it should have been enough to bully someone. Against Gray it was simply... annoying.
He dropped off the crate, walked through the leftover spin of air, and slapped Cael's wrist aside before the third cyclone could finish forming.
SMACK!
The gathered energy burst in Cael's own palm and scorched the embroidered cuff.
Cael stared at the burn as if the coat had betrayed him.
"You dare ruin House Veyth's!"
Gray hit him in the stomach.
THUD!
"UJrghhk!!!"
