Finger of God

[Ashla]

The flicker of bright, burning substance burst forth. As it raced towards her, the teary eyed Icebreaker's sharp reflexes kicked in. Nope, he did not give her vision time to heal; although she did escape the explosion of molton rock - kind of.

As the girl hit the dusty floor, she felt the combined rubble beneath her chest and the sharp pain of burning… splatters of lava had hit her back legs like rain. A hiss escaped her as the more than third degree mini burns scattered across her lower legs. The sound of rapid footsteps behind her caused explosions of adrenaline. As her ice based healing abilities covered her burns in numbing frost, she rolled onto her back and lifted her damascus sword to a war scythe crashing down on her.

As the weapons clashed, an ear piercing scream of metal sounded. Eyes widening, the girl put her second hand on her sword's hilt as she reinforced her weaker blade with mini-layers of plynt strength ice. . . That scythe was made of mithril! It was breaking through. . .

As lightning sparked from the enemy's blade, flashes of unnatural, magical light flashed across the room. As moments passed, the rooms barrier's revealed as a burgundy, moldy crumbling castle wall. Turned over bookshelves and broken tables briefly faded in and out of viewing range as the dust finally cleared from Ayleth's eyes. She saw his face. It was unknown, too twisted for nature. As lava naturally flowed across his charcoal face, his eyes glowed an unearthly yellow. Ayleth's eyes widened, she went pale when she realized she had met this man somewhere. Where, however? At this point he was a familiar stranger attempting to fry her. Not with fire, but with lava and lightning. On the filthy tower of empty ruin, her pounding heart reinforced what she did in fact know. She needed distance.

That blade, that blade that still sunk into the ice that bridged her half broken blade together was sparkling with electricity. Considering that her ice was frozen water, the lightning was naturally attracted to it. The lightning dug into the ice like roots. Small zaps would sting her face with miniature claws for several seconds at a time. Face squinting in pain, she tried to throw her aggressor off from beneath his feet. Literally.

Tapping her plated, sweating foot, which was several inches from his, ice silently slithered beneath his shoes. As the lightning continued to static about, the slippery blue coating of smooth ice was briefly visible to any who looked below. Sweating and burning, Ayleth growled at the heat master, "Ow. . . That stings. . ."

Her face squinted even more than it already was. A mass of ice swiftly reached up from the dirt covered floor. Ayleth hoped it would push him off balance. The ice beneath his feet would cause him to slip as he tried to regain a steady footing. If this worked, which she honestly doubted, it would give her time to retreat; to bolt towards the doorway.