Chapter 53: Where Light Condemns
"Liora," the heroes yelled, their movements sluggish from the haze obscuring their still-arising minds. The terror in their expressions were fitting, the wound growing more gnarly once Liora’s soul had integrated into her body in a forced slam.
The brand ingrained in the translucence of her spiritual form burned at her very skin, relapsing to the same moments when she’d first been given the wound.
Although she didn’t even have the time to open her eyes, she was forced to convulse from the quick onset of pain. Her arms flexed, her waist turned, and her face widened.
Like meat on a flame, the air basked in the sizzle that projected from her wound, its heat forming a bright red that revealed itself even through her clothes, burning away at their very seams.
Rowan’s shoulders dropped without restriction, his mind trailing for any excuse to get him closer to her, but his body failing to lift. With each twitch of his finger, each shudder in his joints, it felt as if he would come apart like an unstrung puppet.
Even though he understood this, one emotion prevailed above all: Regret, marrow-deep, callous, and blunter than any blade. He couldn’t bear to see the way she suffered, pounding away at the ground to try to gain at least some lift to his body.
"Go and aid Liora," the king yelled, his shoulders lifting with his right arm reaching to project his strength. And yet, not a single soul lifted a finger. "What..."
The king’s confusion was soon multiplied by the priests’ awkward movements, each one stepping to drop down into the crater where Rowan laid.
"Restrain that man now and put him to death!"