Hadrian too was scared, but the only indicator was his strident, uncharacteristic commands, the speed with which he acted and responded; normally he didn't order anyone around, nor do something without thinking it over first. There was no time for that now.
His free hand lashed out toward the window, a hasty glob of green res flung out to whorl and swirl, knocking the shutters closed and latched. The hand remained out, reaching for Tiki, who seemed so frightened. Just a child, really, and with nobody to take care of him. Hadrian had never had much in the way of a nurturing essence, but the Kelvics seemed to bring it out in him. They were children crafted in magic, after all.
Though he knew Tiki wouldn't like it, the situation was dire, and he hoped in his fear he wouldn't recognize the hypnotism for what it was, but this time his command was snapping with power in the hopes of overriding that fear and keying into the Kelvic's instinct to obey a human, especially one wielding magical power.
"Tiki, come." The order was thrumming with the promise to protect him, that the boy could huddle to his side and be safe, that the den would not fall.
The Shield had grown so fast, and not really due to any great skill on Hadrian's part, but the force of that wild djed licking at the world. It would fall, overloaded, but there was no real time to run.
"Just stay here," he urged Ethan. "I'm working on it."
And he began to spin out another Shield to envelop them, a Shield within a Shield. It was sloppy work for Hadrian, who was always so meticulous, but desperate times called for desperate measures and he was not afraid. When the first fragile bubble popped in the storm, another Shield would be waiting to protect them. Perhaps he could continue this work, utilizing his skill, but the storm's own power, to prevent overgiving.
But how long would it last? Ethan, at least, would be able to see what he was doing to some extent, peeking through the tiniest slit in his Auristic senses. But not knowing what was the root cause, what was going on, Hadrian could only respond to what he knew, what he sensed.
"We'll be fine," he promised, a faint patina of perspiration making his face shine around the edges in the light of their lamps. |