The Corvin's hand looked nothing less than a broken branch of a tree, where the tips slowly started to wither to dust. Julie felt panic in her mind. She had witnessed her father die in a similar way, and much quicker, that made her wonder how much time Cillian had before he would completely disintegrate into a pile of dust.
"How do we stop it?" asked Julie, but the Corvin only stared at her.
"There's no way to stop a Corvin's death," Cillian dropped his hand to his side. "Death is inevitable even to the ones who appear to be immortal."
"But life can be preserved," said Julie, and she stood up. Seeing how Cillian could not apparate from one place to another or to move, she said, "Don't die yet, Cillian. Let me go and get the book of spells. There should be a way to stop your body from withering."
