They dropped mid-lunge. Mid-scream. Mid-crawl.
One hit the side of a broken cart and shattered like glass.
Ashwing sat down, blinked twice, and sneezed like the moment had gotten too intense for him.
Ren wiped blood from her chin and leaned on her sword. "So. Uh. Lira?"
Lira didn't turn.
Didn't speak.
She just stood there, breathing slow, as the last of the darkness curled back under her skin.
Lindarion exhaled.
Long.
Carefully.
His limbs were trembling now. The divine affinity in him simmered down, leaving his veins feeling like overcooked wires.
'…Remind me to never ask what Tirnaeth trains their kids with. It's probably not schoolwork.'
Ardan stepped out of the smoke, blood on his knuckles, face unreadable. He didn't say a word. Just stared at the empty space where the mage had been.
Meren emerged from behind a splintered wagon and said what everyone else was probably thinking.
"…Did she just unmake a person?"
