[Izunia starts to pull at the magic, the fire burning under the skin. It's worst in his hand, of course but the fissures coil and splinter all across his arm, all the way up into his face. The first tug is soothing, easing the burn... but as he works, draws the power out the pain of his many injuries comes raging back to the forefront of his mind.
His breath stutters, hisses out between grit teeth, tension coils tighter through him as the pain grows worse.
Izunia may be no healer but the magic is the only thing left keeping him alive at this point, even as it kills him.]
Fuckin ironic isn't it?
[Strained and harsh and the pain is so intense but he refuses to give into it, to scream, to yield. Not while there is strength left in his body, however little there is.]
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His breath stutters, hisses out between grit teeth, tension coils tighter through him as the pain grows worse.
Izunia may be no healer but the magic is the only thing left keeping him alive at this point, even as it kills him.]
Fuckin ironic isn't it?
[Strained and harsh and the pain is so intense but he refuses to give into it, to scream, to yield. Not while there is strength left in his body, however little there is.]