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Zhol could feel sweat beading across his brow, and drenching the hair at his temples. He knew what it was: not the heat of fire, not the excursion of trying to evade this hulking abomination; it was the sheer effort, the act of tearing off scraps of his soul and unleashing them towards the creature. He could already feel it, his body gently trembling, his skin pale, his essence tired and drained like suffering from a fever. Warnings from his mother rattled and resonated around his mind, reminding him of what he risked by giving too much. Pain. Danger. Death. But then that threat loomed over him and everyone else either way. An uncertain risk traded for a different one.
Watching Sira transform and tear into the creature gave him a moment of reprieve to gather his strength. He had seen wind eagles before, but this was the first time he had witnessed just how powerful the revered raptors were. He hesitated, watching fists and talons swing and slash at each other, wondering if he should dive into that melee. He circled around, his eyes searching for a target of opportunity, a body part staying still long enough and far enough from the Endal to barrage with fire, or a chance to strike at some vulnerable part - the bloodless leg wound that Sira had already caused, perhaps?
His eyes almost rolled when he heard Azira shout - apparently even in a crisis such as this, she still had that effect on him. Of course they needed more light; he'd already theorised as much; Khara had already said as much; who was she expecting to inform? He glanced in her direction as she precariously began to scramble up the tree. Burn the leaves, a familiar voice whispered into his thoughts. Burn the trees! Burn that petch huntress. Who cares about more light? More fire!
No, he tried to will, but the sentiment was weak in his mind. Visions of the entire forest ablaze flashed through his mind, an eager wanting squirming in the pit of his stomach. He tried to force himself to focus; tried to aim that destructive urge towards the creature; tried to silence the persistent whispers in his mind that encouraged and begged him to burn something.
Then he saw her; the rope that hitched him to his senses, to stop him from bolting off into impulse and instinct. Khara's arrows were landing true, but the abomination was merely shrugging them off the same way it had Sira's sword. No blood. No pain. How was that possible? How was this creature even alive? Was this creature even alive?
No time for questions though; they could worry about such things when it was dead. He managed to capture Khara's gaze, just for a moment; he drew his sword, stabbed it into the ground, and left it there. Hopefully Khara would be able to find a use for it; Zhol certainly would not. His hands signed out his deepest affection, before he wrenched his eyes away.
He focused on the creature. More fire was what the persistent whispers were urging. Very well then. He felt the res ooze from his pores, weaving it's way down both his arms. No small orb of fire this time though; Zhol held one hand a few inches above the other, tendrils of res emerging from his hands, knitting together in the space between. It was only sheer focus that kept his hands from shaking; he could feel his strength draining, flowing from his body in the wake of the res, everything he could muster being woven together. He tasted copper at the back of his mouth, but ignored it. He felt the damp sensation of blood creeping from his nose, but ignored that as well. Only two things commanded his focus: the creature, and the whispers in his mind.
His jaw clenched as a bundle of res the size of a child's skull congealed in the space between his hands. "Sira!" he yelled at the wind eagle, hoping that she had enough wisdom and warning to evade what was coming. One last swell of will, and the res burst into flames; Zhol let out a yell of pain as the fire momentarily seared against the palms of his hands, and then launched the fireball towards the abomination with all the speed and force he could muster.
"Pavi" | "Common" | "Nari" | "Symenos"Dad Thoughts | Dinah Thoughts | Khara Thoughts...This template was made by Khara. She was bribed with coffee and jammy dodgers.