Continued from
hereThe wave summoned by Elimyr rushes through the city center, flattening everything in its path. Because of the gap in the city center's walls, it emerges flowing fast as a river, dashing down the city streets in a roaring flood of debris and living people
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Comments 45
All right, now what? But no sooner had he had that thought, than the girl started gathering water again, stopping the storm and lifting - oh shit this isn't good.
He was caught in the wave, slammed through the streets of the city, into the sides of buildings and he just barely managed to keep his head up long enough to hold his breath. To take another one that was knocked out of him as he was thrown into another wall, and yeah, wow, it was entirely possible that he wasn't going to live through this.
Surprisingly, he felt pretty zen.
Just before everything had a chance to go black (he was only halfway through the viewmaster of conquests that was his life) he hit the ground, grass sharp and wet under his face, and he came up coughing.
The tree? What the hell were they doing here?
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The nightmare trip finally ended and she crawled as far clear of the water as possible before shaking herself and flopping onto her stomach. "I don't like these mermaid persons..."
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Royal manages to keep his grip on his sword, blindly, as he tears the neck of his shirt open; his gills open, and he breathes. He may be knocked around, he may be caught in debris and mud, but he can still breathe. He will survive.
And he emerges from the wave, on the grass, sword still in his hand, gills flared, eyes bright (all three pupils wide, from the reaction to the water), and dispatches a mermaid with a single stroke.
See if they can stand against him now.
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Her hand was throbbing an she realized that she was still clinging to her rock, clutching it so tightly that it was cutting into her fingertips. For some reason, she couldn't let go. She didn't know what was happening around her, but she started to crawl on her hands and knees, hurrying toward the tree as if it would somehow protect her. In a moment, she hit the force field around it and, irrationally, crawled around to the other side. She then peered out through the branches, ready to see what was going on.
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He lets go, lets the magic in the water light him aflame. His mind, his thoughts, his struggles -- the fruitless clinging of a sorcerer wishing for the orderly magic of the days before he bound himself to the Tree.
The water rushes over him, and he gives in.
When he opens his eyes, on the mud and grass of the field surrounding the tree, the druid isn't glowing any longer. The magic isn't so flashy. It doesn't leak out of his pores. It doesn't blaze, to anyone watching.
The druid turns towards the water mage, and raises a hand.
The earth begins to rumble, beneath them.
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