Shards of Felwyn

Recursive Application

"I knew you would only be able to stand by and watch." Cynderad sneered in discust as he grew ever closer to Cosmo's position, just a few feet away from the final pillar. The void black Prism shined in his warped palm. "You know that if we are to do battle, then you will die." His arm extended over the pedestal, Prism in hand.

In an instant, one of the Conclave's claws crashed through the ceiling, gripping Cynderad by the arm and tossing it backwards several yards. The crunch as it hit the basalt was palpable, as was the clinking of the final Divine Prism against the ground, echoing off of the cavernous ceilings someplace far off in the void. I knew they would come through. Without pausing for a second more, he sprinted forward towards Cynderad, which had just begun to rise to its feet.

"Izkra!" Cosmo cried, his voice voluminous as it echoed off of the ceiling. A powerful jolt of energy surged through his body, collecting explosively within Dragon's Focus for a fraction of a second before lurching forward as a fork of azure lightning, closing the distance between Cosmo and Cynderad in less than a millisecond and striking it in the forehead with explosive force.

"Rozić." Cosmo's voice was like a dagger, the fury of a blizzard lurching forward from his channeler with ease, displaying the advancement of his prowess. The harsh gusts and storm of sharp icicles reached Cynderad just as it got to its feet, groaning from impact.

"Ri'ilnauk!" Cynderad cried, just before the spell made contact with its target, casting a deep, booming pulse of dark energy, slowing the icicles in their tracks, dropping them to the floor and shattering them. The pulse reached Cosmo and buffeted him back several feet, sliding on his feet. His blood felt thick in his veins, not quite like what he had experienced in their previous battle, but he could tell that it must have been a similar spell of a lower potency.

I can't let him breathe long enough to cast whatever incantations he's utilizing. If he gets me like he did earlier, it will all be for nothing. Charging forward once more, Cosmo began to regain mobility in his limbs, just barely dodging a horizontal slash from Cynderad's claymore. Cosmo wheeled on his target, aiming Dragon's focus at the creature while it attempted to dislodge its weapon from the ground.

"Nraida!" Cosmo roared, the whirlpool of flame extending from his hand, appearing to subsume Cynderad entirely. Unfortunately, such was not the case as the demon lurched from the swaths of flame, its sword raised and ready to lop Cosmo's head off. However, to Cynderad's downfall, he had foreseen this response, prepping another, more deadly, incantation in the back of his mind, one he'd had ingrained into his head while training in the Boiling Pot.

"Vyzér." He muttered the incantation effortlessly as he leapt backwards, the explosion striking Cynderad in the face and forcing Cosmo onto the ground, his head hitting the hard and cold basalt below. Taking a deep breath, he lurched from the ground to a standing position, disoriented completely.

"Schrank." Cynderad's twisted voice growled from behind him shortly before a dense, hard force smashed into the right half of his body, quickly concussing the boy before throwing him on the ground.

"Hai." Cosmo managed to cast in his stupor before he hit the ground, sliding along a smooth sheet of ice instead of the rough cave floor. He struggled to grasp on to consciousness, pulling himself up onto his feet and grasping onto his bearings. The only thing he seemed to be able to lock his eyes onto was the silhouette of Cynderad as it slowly emerged from the clearing cloud of smoke, the left half of its face all but singed from its body. Blood slowly oozed from its open, fleshy wound. I've got to act. The thought was instinctual as Cosmo once again sprang to his feet, dashing towards Cynderad at full speed.

"Izkra! Izkra!" Forks of lightning rained through the cavern, just barely avoidable by the demon in front of him, who leaped into the sky. Cosmo reacted, dodging towards the fountain and seizing the white Prism with his free hand, attempting to remain grounded through the storm of senses that flooded his mind: the hot, damp air of Trovvs on a windy day, the smell of salt in the sea on the white-sanded shores, and the taste of exotic meat over the fire on a brisk night. Tearing his focus from the colorful horizons and other various fantasies, he focused the beauty in his mind into a spell he had once heard Elias utilize.