The glint came suddenly out of his peripheral, and though the larger man had his filthy forearm pressed against the base of his neck, the rush of adrenaline lent Berkut the strength to knee him sharply in the gut and wrench himself out of his grasp. But it had not been the flash of steel; instead a bolt sparked through the air mere inches from where his head had been. With a deafening crack, the man was face-down in the dirt and the rest scrambled like lost ants.
Berkut jumped on the opportunity the new chaos brought with it to dive for his lance, but between the steaming, charred remains of what must have been their leader, the bleeding puncture in the second man’s thigh, and his horse, spooked by the lightning, rearing to kick at them with powerful, heavy hooves, the thieves scattered like the rats they were, back into the woods.
“Pathetic,” Berkut murmured, glaring after them through the trees. The remark was just as much a criticism of himself, however. Not only had he allowed common thieves to sneak up on him, but he had been spared thanks to someone else’s interference. And a mage’s, no less. At this thought, he turned his scowl, and his lance, upon the robed stranger who remained still at the edge of the little clearing. Cowering and hiding from the center of the action, as they all did.
“Well? What do you want?” he asked gruffly. “I expect you desire some form of compensation, though your intervention was wholly unnecessary.”
Recognition that the mage had done something was perhaps the closest he would come to a thank-you.
In a way, it's absolutely fascinating to see so many grown men scramble for the safety of the forest. He’s grateful that they do, though. Together, they likely could have done a great deal of damage to either him or their victim. The only reason they likely ran was due to the simple fact that they hadn’t a clue of the sage’s full potential and if he could take down one of them in an instant, what could he do to the rest? It’s all about self-preservation, and he cannot deem them cowards only for wanting to live. But certainly there are other things he could berate them for.
Regardless, when the damage is done and Luthier is left alone with the man he'd stepped in to save, he’s finally given the opportunity to properly size him up and as he does, brows raise while recognition immediately lights in his eyes. How extraordinary it is that they of all people should cross paths. Never would he have guessed he'd meet with Alm's cousin, their former enemy. He can all but feel the irony weighing on his tongue.
For a brief pause, he's silent. But then, he gathers his wits and stops his staring. He clears his throat before folding his arms over his chest, listening when Berkut speaks. Yet, he clicks his tongue and glowers at the very idea he'd act as a savior solely for repayment. "Quite the contrary, I require nothing at all. However, should there come another day wherein we meet and you find yourself pinned to yet another tree, I will make certain not to interrupt. Today was my mistake."
The least he could do is offer Luthier a proper show of gratitude. But clearly he's still very much in the mindset of a prideful noble. It would not hurt for him to find some humility. Who knows if such a day will ever arrive.
