Chapter 47: Akton
He could feel himself drifting in and out of consciousness. Each time Akton came to his senses enough he ate a little more rue, burrowed deeper into his bloodstained, charred clothes. Even his weasel form, covered in protective garments, was having trouble dealing with the heat. He could smell smoke, hear the distant sounds of continued battle. Akton tried not to strain his senses. Right now, the quicker he recovered enough to shift back and pick up his sword again, the quicker he could assist Talfryn.
Talfryn. He slipped out of consciousness, back into it, ate a little more rue. Akton focused on Talfryn, the feel of him, of his magic, needing him to still be alive. He could barely sense Talfryn beyond Basil’s wall of fire, which seemed closer, more intense, than before
