The White Hare

First Attempt At Magic

The next morning, Nyxia wakes up to an empty spot next to her. Sitting up she looks around the tiny hut keeping her and her mate out of the cold of winter. She picks up a burning trophy from the fire and crushes it. Allowing the item to enhance her heartfire and increase her strength and qi as she walks out in search for Jack. What she found was a big hole in the middle of the barren patch of land. Looking inside she sees a twelve foot drop with the lower half of the hole being incredibly smooth. Layers of hardened rock and glass tell her a bit about what happened but not the why.

"Your mate was in a bad state last night." Findrel says as she walks up behind the hellhound.

"Why what happened?" She raises to her feet and looks down at the elf with a bit of panic and false annoyance.

"He has been... frustrated and concerned about what he's going to do. I guess he didn't tell you?" When the hellhound shakes her head the woman sits down at the edge of the hole and lets her hood down. "According to Alhrana he views a confrontation with the hellhounds as inevitable and believes no matter how much he trains it won't be enough to protect you."

"Cottontail why the fuck are you worrying about this?" She sighs rubbing her face as her heartfire now glows bright enough to glow through her sternum. The last few days of using the trophies has proven to be beneficial considering her formerly damaged heartfire was now mending. "Where is he?"

"Sparring. My lehrer is having him fight." She frowns when she sees her start getting up. "Don't interrupt them."

"I know we have been getting chummy the last few days but don't think I'll just leave my mate alone after he has been worrying himself over nothing." Nyxia moves towards the sounds of smashing rocks and cutting gale only to have a hand on her shoulder. The reaction is instant. The hellhound rears around ready to bathe the elf in hellfire from the way her chest and throat were shining. Flames and glowing saliva fall from the corners of her mouth as she lets out a rumbling growl.

Findrel grabs the snout of the hound and strikes her in the neck pulling back just before the strike actually landed once she realized what she was doing. The subdued strike doing very little thanks to the collar in place. The holes in the side of the collar glow for a fraction of a second before spikes made of bone pop out in response, spearing her hand and sending liquid pain shooting through her veins as the cursed blood mixes with her own. Holding her wrist she pulls away with a strangled yell. Gritting her teeth she feels her lungs struggle to pull in deep breaths as her heart rate skyrockets.

"Fuck did you just-" Nyxia watches the elf collapse as she sandwiches her arm between her thighs. Squeezing them in a desperate attempt to stop the spread before she regains enough of her senses to use a spell. Drawing a circle in her arm she barely gets out the first word before another arc of pain shoots through her. Nyxia didn't know what to do. On the one hand she attacked her but on the other she did try to scare her off first.

"Just give me a second, I'll-" Then it releases. Findrel gasps as the pain suddenly vanishes and she can see the damage inflicted by the collar. In truth it wasn't that bad. The pain was definitely worse than the actual damage itself. Taking a moment to catch her breath she holds up a hand to Nyxia's attempt at helping her. Before saying anything she spots the four elves around the both of them with weapons drawn and realizes things just got very serious very quickly.

"Shit! No, stand down! It was my own-" Too late, now a bruised, bloody and protective buck was sprinting towards them. The weakening shackles that were sapping a majority of his strength and agility were warping and buckling as the conforming restraints were forced to move as he did. The magic holding them together was now actively splitting at the seams. The wave of [Murderous Aura] that rolls over the group has two of the warriors swing at the buck that was already on top of them. The insides of his palms held better than their swords did. Earning himself bloody cuts that stopped before hitting bone in exchange for gripping both swords hard and snapping each of them in half.