01-30-2014, 05:00 PM
It was like gasping for air under water. Dane's chest burnt and although he heaved with all his might, he barely moved an inch. Whatever had descended upon him, it was sapping his strength of will. Never would he be servant to any will but his own! He grew more and more willful, and he looked to Aria for the help already requested.
A flash of moonlight on steel, and a gust of cold breeze whipped above his face. He gasped despite himself. A sword was far from the sort of help he expected. It did something, however. He wasn't doused in spilled blood, unfortunately, but the weight lifted and the full brunt of his straining slammed hard upon his mind.
He sprang to his feet, whipping around in search of a target to hurl the power that clenched his fists hard. But there was nothing but trees and the cold graves of the dead.
And Aria.
He turned to her, face drawn with a fury that quickly receded into mere irritation.
He relinquished his grasp on the well of power flowing through him before his body was ripped apart, but did not fully release it so to keep a sharp eye in the dark. It seemed the specter had chased away the very birds. His breathing returned to normal, and he studied the area one final time before addressing Aria.
"If I were a superstitious man, I might suspect we are unwelcome among the dead. Thankfully you had that ridiculous sword."
He carried on to brush himself off. Bits of rock had stuck to his pants, and when wind rustled his hair, he realized his hat had been whisked away as well.
"Care to venture a guess as to what just happened?"
A flash of moonlight on steel, and a gust of cold breeze whipped above his face. He gasped despite himself. A sword was far from the sort of help he expected. It did something, however. He wasn't doused in spilled blood, unfortunately, but the weight lifted and the full brunt of his straining slammed hard upon his mind.
He sprang to his feet, whipping around in search of a target to hurl the power that clenched his fists hard. But there was nothing but trees and the cold graves of the dead.
And Aria.
He turned to her, face drawn with a fury that quickly receded into mere irritation.
He relinquished his grasp on the well of power flowing through him before his body was ripped apart, but did not fully release it so to keep a sharp eye in the dark. It seemed the specter had chased away the very birds. His breathing returned to normal, and he studied the area one final time before addressing Aria.
"If I were a superstitious man, I might suspect we are unwelcome among the dead. Thankfully you had that ridiculous sword."
He carried on to brush himself off. Bits of rock had stuck to his pants, and when wind rustled his hair, he realized his hat had been whisked away as well.
"Care to venture a guess as to what just happened?"