"And you, Rauk," Thalso snapped. "Why do you shy away from fighting?"
Rauk looked down. He had come to the raid for power, to learn what battle truly meant, but until now, he'd never truly fought anything like that.
Thalso wasn't done. He pointed at Kaedros. "And you! You lack originality. You cast faster than most mages I've seen, but your spells are weak, and you burn through mana like a leaking fountain."
Kaedros flinched.
He'd learned from books, abandoned and ignored in palace libraries while the other Dragon Princes were trained by masters of the craft.
His parents never wasted resources on him. Why should they?
Everything he was, he'd made himself.
"And the worst part," Thalso continued, "is you don't understand your roles. Rota has the most physical power. She should be your Defender, holding the line."
"You, Kaedros, have the highest offensive output. You should be the attacker. And Rauk…" Thalso's gaze sharpened. "You're adaptable. You can support and strike."
