Chapter 133: Book 2: Skyfall
Vahrkos had never been tired before. Not to this extent. It was rare these days for anything to tire him out—ever since he'd experienced his Convalescence, it was like his Firmament was three times as efficient. Slipstreams were easy for him to navigate like they had never been before, and Firmament flowed along his joints with just a whisper of a thought.
It was saying something, then, that he was tired. The so-called raid seemed never-ending; no sooner did he fight off one meteor did the next arrive, fresh and full of disruptive, powerful Firmament.
The worst part was that it almost felt like they were learning. He didn't know how they were learning—it wasn't like they talked to one another, as far as he could tell—but the new ones seemed to know how he fought, would act to block blows that the first ones hadn't seen coming.
"Vahrkos!"
He-Who-Wanders seemed so worried about him all the time. Vahrkos didn't know why. He was the one that should be worrying about Wander! The silverwisp didn't know how to protect himself; if a meteor so much as hit him, the man would just evaporate. At least the worst that would happen to him was the loss of an arm or something.
"I am fine." Vahrkos was vaguely aware that his reply sounded too much like a lie—he was breathing too heavily, and he tripped up over the word 'fine' because he stumbled over a rock. He-Who-Wanders caught him, slinging an arm over his shoulders.
"You are not fine," Wander insisted. "You've been fighting non-stop for nearly an hour. I don't care how efficient your Firmament is, you're going to die if you keep going."
"I will not," Vahrkos replied shortly, though his difficulty standing seemed to disagree with that statement. "I have fought for longer and survived."
"Not against Firmament-absorbing meteors!" Wander said, exasperated. "We need to find some shelter—"