Yet knowing that the Fomor could suck it via his wings, Lith had the spell fading instead of further empowering his enemies.
"Good job finding the ringleader." A heretical figure whose voice sounded like an insult to creation said while descending from the sky. "I'll take it from here."
His wings were membranous instead of feathered and upside-down in a mockery of the Fomor's. His skin was of a disgusting pink instead of the divine blue of the sky and the razor-sharp fangs in his mouth were unworthy of a human.
Yet the revulsion that those features inspired in Eryon was eclipsed by the pure hatred that he felt by looking into the abomination's eyes.
Six of them seemed identical to those of the Balors of old, wielding the power of all elements. The seventh, however, was something that the Fomor had only seen in his dreams.
