The Storm [M][DragonSong]

[Lowen Thorn]

He led Varryn out of the question, down several halls, and down the stairs and into the corridor where Ilia and Twyla await. Once inside, he locked the door behind him and freshened the seal that was already in place to keep any and all sounds out.

"How are you feeling?" he asked they made it down the steps.

[DragonSong]

Ilia raised her head, blinking quickly in an effort to hide just how heavy her eyes were, how close she'd felt to drifting off.

Surely just a little sleep wouldn't do me any harm...

"I'm...fine."

"You are typically quite an excellent liar, Ilia. I'm disappointed," her father replied brusquely to that. Crouching on the ground before her chair, he muttered something under his breath and summoned a bright, white-hot flame to his fingertip before he began tracing designs on the stone floor around her feet.

Over his shoulder, he said to Lola, "Combine the vervain and salt in the bowl, burn them, and powder the remains."

[Lowen Thorn]

"You got it," Lola replied almost absently. He had no idea what Varryn was about to do or how he was going to do it, but the instructions he had been given were simple enough. He trusted Ilia's father to take care of the rest.

After mixing the ingredients in the bowl, his fingertips sparked in flame with a quick flash of his eyes, and he burned and powdered appropriately.

He looked to Varryn when he was finished. "What next?" he asked.

[DragonSong]

"Take her hands," Varyyn replied quickly, grabbing the bowl so Lola was free to do so.

Ilia gave her head another little shake, clearing exerting no small amount of effort to keep herself awake. She wrinkled her nose up at her father as he paced around them, sprinkling the powdered mixture into a pentagram on the ground so that she and Lola were in the center.

"This is going to hurt, isn't it?" she grumbled, almost petulant.

Varyyn shot her a droll look. "Perhaps. Hold still."

[Lowen Thorn]

Lola did as he was told and took Ilia's hands in his own. Hurt? He felt invincible as of late. Was this ritual going to take that feeling away?

...No. He couldn't think like that. This was for Ilia's safety and well-being.

With her hands in his, he looked to Varryn as to ask what they should do next.

[DragonSong]

"Just....close your eyes. Breathe." Varryn began pacing the circle and pentagram on the floor again, sprinkling the ashed ingredients as he did. "This will likely be uncomfortable, but do not break contact until I give the word. If you do, it may disrupt the unbinding."

Ilia screwed her face up, but she kept her eyes closed, her hands in Lola's. Heat started to gather gradually between their palms, growing slowly from a simple warmth to something dangerously approaching burning.

[Lowen Thorn]

Lola felt the sting of heat in his palms as he held Ilia's hands in his. It was much like the sensation he felt when he conjured his own elemental fire but with no control over it. Before he knew it, there was a slight wince on his face from the burn, but it was nothing he couldn't handle yet.

He kept her hands firmly in his as he glanced between Ilia and her father as the ritual progressed.

[DragonSong]

Ilia's brow furrowed deeper as the heat grew, her lips parting slightly. "Papa...?"

"Shhh," Varyyn urged. He moved to stand just outside the pentagram and began murmuring under his breath in a language Ilia didn't recognize, perhaps some dialect of the demonic tongue that she didn't know.

The burning grew to near scalding and Ilia flinched, instinctively trying to pull her hands back as pain sparked over her palms. "Ahh--!"

Varyyn paused his chant only long enough to shout a clipped, "Don't break contact!"

[Lowen Thorn]

Through gritted teeth, Lola tightened his fingers into hers to prevent her from breaking away. It wasn't easy. This sensation was hot. Almost as hot as the magic he often produced, and what he produced he often used to kill.

Almost involuntarily, he leaned forward and rested his head on top of hers, and his eyes closed as he fought through the flame.

[DragonSong]

Ilia was shaking, but she tightened her grip on Lola's hands, jaw set determinedly. When his head came to rest against hers she found herself pushing back against him, trying to focus on keeping her breath even as the burning spread up from her palms to race through her arms and down into her core.

A soft cry struggled passed her lips. "I--I can't! It hurts!"

Varryn winced, his jaw clenching, but he continued the chant. The spell was almost completed, just a few more seconds...

The fire suddenly raced through every inch of Ilia's skin, lighting her up from the inside, and she screamed.

Then it was gone, as suddenly as it came, and she collapsed forward into Lola, gasping and trembling.

Varryn dropped the smoking bowl, his own hands shaking slightly as he moved forward to place a hand against his daughter's back. "Shh, shh." He stroked her hair and looked up at Lola, searching the younger man's face with concern. "It's alright, it's over..."

[Lowen Thorn]

Damien's own scream of pain was internal, but was communicated with the look on his face. When it was over, Ilia collapsed into him, and he barely had the strength to keep them both from toppling over onto the solid ground.

It was a weird sensation. Now that the scorching pain had left their bodies, it was almost as if a part of himself went with it. Hands and feet tingly, head slightly dizzy, and bones chilly as if he were out in the snow without a coat on.

"That's it?" he asked, more of a plead for confirmation than an answer. "So.. what next? Just.. nothing?"

[DragonSong]

Varyyn shrugged, head tilted slightly to the side. "That is the end of the binding, at least. Neither of you should feel any more ill effects--though it may take a day or two for you to adjust to no longer being connected."

Ilia was curled into Damien's chest, still shivering. In the absence of the heat from the ritual, she felt far, far too cold. While she was relieved that the connection would no longer be sapping her strength, in a strange way she suddenly realized that she almost...missed it.

"I'm so tired," she whispered, closing her eyes with a sharp exhale. "Please, can we just...can't we deal with the rest of this in the morning?"

[Lowen Thorn]

"Y-Yeah," he whispered. "Morning."

That was all he managed to muster, though it was an agreement nonetheless. His legs felt weak and his knees nearly buckled as he started to stand, and the aid he offered to Ilia was just as uncertain. Again, it was a weird sensation. It was just then he realized how much stronger he and his abilities had become when he was connected with Ilia, and how it quickly zapped from him.

It was for her own safety, so he was happy for that, but there was a sudden feeling that he lost apart of himself in the ritual. Now the empty hole inside him that begged to be filled was ever present from within him again.

He needed to kill someone.

[DragonSong]

Varryn stepped forward quickly, catching Lola's shoulder to help brace the younger man as he in turn tried to steady Ilia.

For her part, the young noble's new fiancee just sort of clung to him, still not back to her full strength. "Where, um..." She licked her lips and glanced from Lola to her father. "Where are we staying, exactly?"

Varryn shrugged, looking down at their host. "I'm not sure, actually. Think you're up to showing us to our rooms?"