☵ 37th of Frost, Year 119, Age of Steel ☵
"Common" ☵ "Synskrit Speech" ☵ Thoughts
☵ After all of that effort, it was all for nothing. How in the hell did she evade him, let alone that vortex by his summon? His energy was spent, and he was at the end of the line. He glared at the woman as she spoke. She was indeed powerful and he had done everything he could to kill her.
He saw the flowers wither and die as she crept closer to where he was, his body heavy from so much aether being lost. She kept going on and on about draw blood. "Dont you see that its nearly impossible for him to do so. You are powerful, but that doesn't mean you have to be a monster."
He hissed, still confused as to what she wanted. Draw Blood...Draw Blood... kept playing in the back of his mind. Drawing her blood was far from his reach, she knew that. What was he to do? His life hung in the balance of what he did next, he just didn't know what that was.
His head hung low for a moment, the faint sound of loud and heavy footsteps approaching. That must have meant they killed the first summon, and looking to the second, he wasn't about to let her kill another. Looking at the Wuld’vith, it spoke words only he could hear into his mind. "Oh, how the mighty fall," it said in a mocking tone.
With a sigh, he took the blade of his sword and sat it next to his throat. "Draw blood you say, whos blood? My blood, your blood, my summon's blood? If you want it then you will have to come and get it. If you wanted me dead, you would have killed me by now. Power may be yours, but the power over my life belongs to me, and I'd rather die by my own power than let some arrogant witch do it."
He was adamant in that statement, but he wasn't backing down. If she wanted his blood, then she'd have to come and take it by force herself. ☵