Ash fell from the clouds in a blizzard, casting the Outer Ring in a grainy, ghastly, gray hue.
The people's screams were becoming more distant now. It seemed they'd finally found the will to run away from this catastrophic event.
Varek knelt to the ground, trying to push through the pain that his new burns brought him.
The skin on his side had blackened, and patches of fabric still smoldered from Magnus' last burst of flame. He clutched his ribs, knowing at least one was cracked, maybe broken.
Varek raised his eyes back to the battle.
Magnus stood at the center of the chaos, surrounded by flame. Glowing. Unstoppable.
Kael was already pushing forward again, reckless, as if pain didn't matter anymore. Maybe it didn't for him. Maybe the gem took that from him too.
Varek, though, still felt everything. He thrived off pain. It reminded him that he was still alive, even after so many years of life.
