“I’ve always found it funny that we bleed, just like ordinary men,” Denth said. “We might be stronger, might live much longer, but we die just the same.”

“Not the same,” Vasher said, raising Vivenna’s blade. “Other men die with far more honor than we, Denth.”

Denth smiled. Vivenna could see excitement in his eyes. He always claimed that there was no way Vasher could have beat his friend, Arsteel, in a duel, she thought. He wants to fight Vasher. He wants to prove to himself that Vasher isn’t as good as he is.

Blades whipped into motion. And after just a quick exchange, Vivenna could see that there was no contest. Denth was clearly the better. Perhaps it was Vasher’s wounds. Perhaps it was the growing anger she saw in Vasher’s eyes as he fought, marring his ability to be calm and collected during the fight. Maybe he just really wasn’t as good as Denth. However, as Vivenna watched, she realized that Vasher was going to lose.

I didn’t do all this so you could just die! she thought, rising to try to help.