Round 47

Jeane drew back instinctively from the edge, her wings half-spreading in a defensive gesture before she caught herself. "Stop touching everything!" she snapped at Halie, who flinched away from the wall as if it had burned her. Below, the scuttling sounds had reached a frenzied pitch, punctuated by Varrika's distant, terrified shrieking.

"Merrin!" The name tore free from Jeane's throat before she could stop it, a desperate cry that echoed down into the darkness and was swallowed whole by the oppressive silence. She turned to Seraphine, her crimson eyes wide with barely-controlled panic. "We need light—actual useful light, not just a pretty bauble—and we need it now."

Seraphine had already begun the incantation, her fingers tracing complex patterns in the air as she drew upon her arcane reserves. The magical energy gathered around her palms, swirling into a tight ball of pure white light that grew brighter with each passing second. She gritted her teeth, pouring more power into it—she needed something that would cut through this oppressive darkness, not just a flickering candle flame.

The light expanded rapidly, growing larger and more intense until it was like holding a small sun in her hands. Seraphine launched the orb of light down into the abyss with a sharp gesture. It plummeted swiftly, leaving a trail of fading luminescence behind it as it descended into the darkness below. She leaned forward, squinting after it...

The ball of light struck something far below with a sound like shattering glass, and then exploded outward in a blinding flash. When Seraphine's vision cleared, she could see Merrin sprawled at the bottom of the pit, looking dazed but miraculously unharmed. The light illuminated the walls around her—skeletal remains embedded in the stone, grinning down at the helpless halfling.

"Oh fuck," Halie whispered beside her, and Seraphine had to agree. This was very, very bad.