Kai stood at the jagged edge of the hole, its darkness swallowing the faint torchlight that flickered from the pale creatures' hands. The smell rising from it was earthy at first… but deeper in, there was a damp, metallic tang that reminded him disturbingly of old blood.
Orlin stood beside him, silent. The lich's expression never changed, lips long gone, teeth fixed in an eternal grin, but there was something in the slight tilt of his skull, in the deliberate slowness of his movements, that suggested amusement.
Without a word, Orlin raised one skeletal hand over the pit. Mana leaked from his fingertips in a slow, deliberate stream, forming a thick, viscous liquid that shimmered like oil in the torchlight. It swirled unnaturally in the air before dripping down in heavy globules.
Kai's breath caught. It was eerily similar to his own soul ichor, dense, alive in some way, wrong in others. He didn't know if that was comforting or horrifying.
The drops fell into the abyss.
