Author’s Preface: This is the third of three or so chapters of Aldain (7, 8, and 9) that will be a little something different. I’m pretty sure they’re a bit long by the standards I’ve established so far. Additionally, they try to get across several important visuals with as few words as possible. I need the few of you who read this to really step it up and tell me what worked and didn’t work in this chapter. If anything was unclear or confusing, please let me know in a comment ASAP.
Thanks,
The Drewcifer

I’m not weak yet, but I am running low on steam. The dracoform took more out of me than I thought it would. Despite my destructive cathartic outburst, my shoulder hurts like Hell. Still, I’m not worried. Maybe I should be, but I’m not.

The leader speaks to me from his craft. “You must be Sorcerer Aldain. It is an honor to meet you. I’ve read much of your exploits. If I’m going to kill you, I’d rather your power not go to waste. What say we settle this properly?”

Fool. His craft has made him overconfident. If he stays in that A-boat, he might have a chance. “If you’d like to sacrifice your one advantage, then by all means, proceed.”

He has already landed the craft and is getting out. He sneers as he removes his helmet. Strange, he has a bit more power than I detected earlier. The helmet must have had some sort of dampening effect. In an instant he’s airborne and it has begun.

First priority is always containment: I let loose a well-aimed bolt of electricity directly at the stationary A-boat, obliterating it. Now the survival of either of us is incidental; there won’t be any way for Carson to send any reinforcements. My decision, however, has opened me to attack.

I am struck from behind by a column of solid air, knocking me into the ground. I roll onto my back and point at the aethernaut, sighting down my arm. I speak a single harsh syllable.

A spear of ice erupts from the moisture in the air, speeding towards the aethernaut. It flies true, lodging in his chest. He falls to the ground. After that stunt, I have almost no magic left. Now I’m weak. I struggle to my feet and make my way to where he has fallen. He’s still alive, gasping for air.

“I’m told it’s less painful if you relax and don’t fight it,” I say as I stretch out my arm, palm down, fingers spread, directly above his chest. His power flows out of him and into me as his blood flows out of him and into the thirsty ground.

It takes less than a minute until he is drained of both life and magic. My shoulder still blazes agony as I once more take flight. I drift towards the castle and, after a time, unspeak the words to cloak and shield it. The castle fades into view below me. I make it to the gardens before I feel myself begin to fall as pain, exhaustion, and darkness overtake me.