"Oh, I don't know, trying to win a war?" Dellia snapped. She narrowed her green eyes, curling her lip at him. Why did the man have to be such a pig headed idiot? "What are you doing?"
"Trying not to announce our location to the Empire!"
"Then maybe you should stop screaming at me." Dellia clenched her fists. She wanted to punch Ashar in his arrogant face, but knew her hand would only come in contact with the glass of the mirror. It made her miss speaking to him in person.
There was a loud *thud!* from Ashar's side of the glass. It was obvious he had banged his fist against something. "Get out of there, you moron."
"I was put in charge of this division for a reason. If you have a problem with it, talk to Kannin."
"You're going to get yourself killed!"
"Why do you care?"
Ashar stared at her for a long moment, then flickered and was gone. Dellia stared at her own reflection for a long moment. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and even to her eyes her face looked shocked. What had just happened?
Clang! Crash! Shink!
The two swords met again and again. Deria whirled and struck at the man before her, but he parried every blow. He was strong, stronger than her, and well trained with the blade. But she would win. She knew it. Because to him, this was just another fight. To her, it was everything. Surviving was nothing. Killing him was all that mattered.
Today's Novel Idea Prompted by: Above picture, courtesy of Young Authors in Training. For some reason, the first time I saw the picture, I thought they were looking in a mirror, rather than over crossed swords. Hence the first story, which actually makes no sense in response to the prompt.