7
As Torben’s gaze locked with the icy eyes of Aristotles, he felt his stomach lurch with fear. He began to move, to pitch his still incorporeal being back through the wall behind him, to escape. Before he could move more than a few feet, however, the Shadow Elf’s hands whipped precisely and quickly before him, and Torben felt his limbs cease up as a dreaded, familiar word roared within his mind, though this time with Aristotles’ sneering tone, rather than Hrex’s harsh growl.
Ashak.
Sensing that whatever was before him was now going nowhere, Aristotles visibly relaxed, though his face was still creased with a concerned frown. It seemed to the immobile Torben that though their eyes had momentarily met one another, Aristotles couldn’t actually see him, as his gaze flicked left and right,
