Sparks of inspiration lit behind his eyes. The thing had bitten him, and he carried disease.

Had it gotten enough in its mouth for him to tamper with-? He roared, again, flapping higher, neck drawing back in a muscled arch before sweeping forward, jaws snapping open. Ghostlight eyes flickered with rage--an emotion near-foreign to Blight--as magicka surged from his maw.

Sicken and die, he thought at it, in a savage hiss, as his magicka curled toward the serpent.

The serpent recoiled, hissing in turn. The area around it seemed to darken and dampen even further, the sickly green taint to the stone seeming to soften it, to weaken it. Rock crumbled here and there, the unstable nature of this cave almost seeming to increase.

The Lurker-beast started toward Blight, but its movements quickly became erratic: lethargic, clumsy, as its body coiled atop itself. In a moment it might gather the strength to strike again but for now, the dragon's attack had done its work.

2/3

Glowing eyes darted along the stone, wariness driving him higher, backward. His slender head jerked right, then forward, looking at the rock that seemed to be more and more porous, more moist, more unstable, by the second.

Then he looked down at the lurker, vicious triumph rising in his chest. The thing had tried to come for him--and now it was sickened, perhaps even dying. Could he finish it-? Was this the test, maybe?

With a final, screeching roar he sent out his magicka again, a hefty surge of power intended to corrupt the creature's own natural defenses. With luck its body would now be ravaged by disease, bacteria and viruses running rampant, replicating with unnatural speed.

Perhaps it would even die.

The fat-bodied serpent drew back, twisting over and over in itself, writhing in apparent agony. Wounds began to appear across its hide, festering rapidly. Before it could perish, the ground beneath it crumbled and fell away--and then the entirety of the cave began to fall apart, deteriorating, collapsing. A hole opened beneath the Lurker, which tumbled and fell away.

But it was not a deadly collapse.

Instead, it seemed to reshape--to reform into the room it had been before: dull, blank, empty.

With a flutter of black feathers Emuh swept to hover before Blight. "You didn't die," Emuh told him, sourly--as if disappointed. A click of his beak resounded sharp like a gunshot through the space, echoing. "PREPARE YOURSELF, then!"

There was no time to do so: a moment later it would feel as though Blight's magic, his very essence, was being drained from him to leave a painfully hollow space. It was blinding, dizzying, paralyzing: and moments later he'd find himself on the ground, uncertain how he got there. His magicka felt like an empty well, but a deeper one: and the potential of new magic thrummed somewhere beneath the surface.

"NOW GET OUT," Emuh added, taking wing and vanishing into the shadows before Blight had time to ask of Dread. If he followed, the owlbeast would be nowhere to be found.


3/3


Blight has Transcended. He is now a Transcendent Pupil, and may work his way back up to Transcendent Master. Upon attaining this rank, his player may post in Update Me to choose a Specialization (viewable in the Magic section of the Guidebook).

He has also learned the spell:

Herd Immunity

Transcendent Intensity Manipulation. The user casts out a wave of magic, instantly inflicting a chosen disease on all targets in a large range in front of them, or alternatively, purifying all of those targets of any disease or infection.

He had barely any time to react to the owl-creature and when it was all done, he was left weary and empty on the ground. He didn't remember getting there, and he couldn't see where Emuh had gone. He tried to call out after him--"Wait--I came to ask about the dragon Dread-!" but his voice echoed into nothingness.

With a groan he pushed himself up, noting the aching feeling of his bite wound. He'd need to take that to the water, to clean it out at once--he could already feel it gnawing at his flesh.

His magic, worn to exhaustion, did nothing to cleanse it--and so, dizzied and baffled, the dragon turned and took flight back into Polaris.

exit Blight