“Gentlemen, you’ll remember where you are and conduct yourselves accordingly,” father said standing, ready to intervene.
“You,” Fuinon said pointing at father, “you have allowed simple farmers to malign my character and used me as a training tool for your spawn and the amusement of others.” Spittle was flying from his mouth with the last words, hand raised to cast a spell.
The meeting with Turin, and the raging emotions he stirred in me, were still in the back of my mind causing my nerves to be stretched taut. Fuinon had pushed me over the edge. Before he could move, his hands burst into flames.
“Xander, what are you doing?” Fuinon pleaded.
Sitting calmly at the table I met Fuinon’s fear stricken gaze. “I told you not to take my leniency as weakness.”
“You?” Fuinon asked skeptically.
“Me,” I answered smiling. “All day you have thrown insults at me, slandered my character, and bullied those you thought you could. Yet, even after being shown mercy you continued to disrespect the authority of others. As a result, you will be confined to the dungeon until further notice.”