As she slipped the black iron gauntlet on, her left hand first curled into a tight fist. The pain was excruciating, but it never showed on Kaede’s face; she held up her fist and turned it from side to side, observing as it slowly turned into stone.
“How remarkable”, she said.
From atop her shoulder, Yukimura scoffed: “This is what you get for toying with the implements of evil, girl. Perhaps that flightless, featherless friend of yours can call upon his sun-god to grant you respite from that hideous thing.”
Kaede grinned without turning to look at the bird. “Yes master, I am sure that Imro would gladly free me from this bondage, but I am not altogether convinced that I require it”. She casually flipped a stone from the ground into the air with her foot, and backhanded it with her left fist, smashing it instantly into a cloud of dust and debris. “Indeed, I must say that I feel stronger than ever”.
Yukimura shook his head almost imperceptibly, “I doubt that Irori would look favorably upon it. You wield the implement of Droskar. What cruel irony, for the champion of Goka to wear the mark of the dwarven god of slavery. What would the elders in the Wall of Heaven have to say about that?”
Kaede frowned, glancing at the tattoo on her left arm. “Iro-Shu is practical, master… but your point is well taken. I shall strive to use this curse for the purpose of freeing souls from the toil of bondage. Droskar will rue the day that one of his boons fell into my hands”.
“See that you do, girl, and take care that it is you who grasps the gauntlet, and not the other way around. I’ll not suffer you to become a mockery of yourself.
Kaede sighed, and nodded.