The Forsaken Hero

"Reflection!"

At my cry, the third-circle spell erupted with magic. Ribbons of light, magnified two-fold, blasted toward the collapsed priests, centered on Davin They collided together, forming the epicenter for an explosion of blinding power that shook the walls of the Divine Throne. Shockwaves of holy power broke against my flesh, but were diluted by the distance. Even so, the light scorched my flesh, stinging, burning me all over.

I fell against the wall, panting with effort. My mana was completely dry, but there was no doubt I made the right call. If the full strength of the spell had hit me... I doubted even someone with twice my strength would survive.

Slowly, the dust cleared and the starburst of light faded. The priests were blown around the corridor, lying limply in a mass of cuts and burns. The floor was blackened, the walls scorched, and tremors continued to rock the building.

I stumbled forward, horrified by the sight. Bile rose in my throat, and I bent over and wretched at the stench of burned flesh. Falling to my knees, I stared at the bodies. Had I done that? Were they even breathing?

Through my tears, I saw the priests begin to shift. Muffled groans filled the air, and a wave of relief rushed through me. Even if they had hurt me, the thought I might have killed them was too much.

Davin struggled to his feet. His face was a mass of burns, and most of his hair was scorched away. Molten gold dripped through his fingers, burning his flesh, but he gave no indication of the extreme pain he must be under.

"Did you forget, Filthblood?" he asked, tone choked with fury.

His expression twisted in a primal expression of rage. I scrambled back in horror at the gruesome display. How was he still standing? His words tickled a distant memory, but my mind was fuzzy with panic.