"His brother ..."
The words rang through her head as she desperately struggled against the mage, her daggers seemingly doing nothing but keep her alive that little bit longer. It came to her that it was strange the mage was using a knife, rather than any more spells, yet maybe this was his way. As he forcefully turned his face away she tried another throw of pain to his ankle on her chest - but this time he seemed to be ready. Just the same as her knives were making no real effect on his feet and legs, it seemed that he was protected by magic. As she allowed an eye to slip into a view of auras she caught a glimpse of his body run with thousands of tiny black lines, but ones that were different from his general dark aura. Instead they were small sable sparks of power that gave the illusion of a suit of armour.
"His brother ..."
What did that mean? That his sponsor had a brother? That could be possible, but why would the mage say that? How could a brother of a sponsor she did not know have any intelligence on her or her cuff, or Vitruvion? What was this - some form of freak show?
It made her more determined to find answers. Furiously she resorted to shoving at he Mage's chest as he went on about how she could be fine dead. He was taking time out of attacking her to speak to his lackey. Taking the opportunity she stabbed against his chest but found the same useless ability - unable to cause any damage. His body sung from shoulders to ankles and wrists in hairlines of black webbing, as some form of magical armour.
Brother. What brother?
Suddenly though, then the mage was caught off guard. A thin black rope of crimson coiled around his neck, snapping around and closed and tight like a coiled snake. Wide eyes appeared on the mage's face, along with disbelief as he was suddenly and entirely yanked off her form.
Back he went, sprawling to the side, the whip grabbing and forcing him away from her, the entire movement taking less than a second. As the pressure was released from her chest Stare felt her lungs rush with lungs again. And she was spluttering, coughing, retching ...
She rolled over to the side, continuing to cough horribly.
"G-get kni-ecch knife from his hand!" She managed to hack out.
Vomit came from her stomach. Thick, awful and blundering. "Get it ..."
"Bah!" The mage attempted to yell a wave of force again, but one time was enough.
Rolling right over, still shaking, Stare shot him the darkest look she had. Shoving the worst of her anguish onto him she made him pause - then suddenly begin to scream in horror.
"Nightmare," she explained in a haunted whisper.
