ORIGIN

" I was left, to my own devi-i-ices.
Many days, spent away, with nothing to show. "
It had been at least a week since that day. Maybe even more. At least that massive dragon was gone, but he feared a little. Azazel hoped that none had died as cause of that fight. Polaris was in ruins the last time he had been in the room, and he hoped it wouldn't be now.

But of course it was. Smoke still clung heavily to the air, but not as thickly. Rocks and debris of all natures were scattered about Polaris, glimmering blue stones and veins of gems visible in them. He may as well aid in cleaning up, despite all of the smoke in the room.

He coughed quietly as he worked, fanning a wing to try and at least get some smoke away from him. Maybe this was too risky of a move. His magicka reached out to the smallest and nearby stones, easily splitting the rock. Perhaps it had been composed of shale. Azazel couldn't possibly know exactly what composed the stone in Polaris. Over time, magicka probably changed the composition constantly. There was no single layer of rock in this cave. Instead, there were many.

Continuing, he decided he would attempt a stronger spell to break more rocks at once. So he closed his eyes and hoped it would go better than last time. Please don't make more of a mess than he already had. So he reached out to his magicka.

Nothing. Nothing came, nothing happened. He felt a small pull of magicka from his gem, then nothing. Frowning, he glared at the rocks, hopping towards one and clambering onto it to perch on it. "I'm going to break you someday! That will be today! I promise!" So he reached out again. Please be successful. Please don't backfire. Pulling at his magicka's strings, he closed his eyes then opened them, focusing solely on the rocks in his general vicinity. If he could increase air pressure just enough so the rocks weakened into smaller pieces. It would be much better than the boulders that were scattered haphazardly about the room.

His chest tightened a little as he inhaled deeply, pressure building up around him. It quickly faded, and Polaris was back to normal pressure once again. Giving a quiet 'tch' to the rock he was perched on, he gazed across the rocky landscape. Maybe a few smaller rocks had broken. He would not give up. At least one more time. With each attempt, it seemed to be getting stronger. Maybe he could actually do more work if he tried harder. So once again, he pulled at his magicka, struggling to get it to come out.

Another failure! Stamping a foot angrily on the stone floor, Azazel hung his head and bit back a little bird temper tantrum. He had to keep trying. He didn't know the limits of this spell yet. Heck, he had never even cast it successfully. He could feel it's will to be greater, it's feeble attempts to pull the magicka it needed towards itself. "You can do it, Azazel. Just try a couple more times." So he pulled at his magicka, focusing once again. He was focusing so hard that he had a really bad headache. He might take a nap soon.

Rocks split underneath the increasing pressure in the air. Azazel pushed harder and harder, until the spell ended with a rather small radius of stones shattered about him. The only consequence was that the looming smoke overhead seemed it wanted to become thicker, and The Bone King coughed loudly. His lungs burned and ached for clean and fresh air. Twisting his head and inhaling deeply, Azazel tried to focus a great breath spell on the smoke. He could blow it off, no problem.

Right?