Anger flared in Rowan's chest, and the Disorder erupted from his hands. He couldn't control it, and he no longer wanted to. Luckily, it knew its target without his direction. It charged like a lightning bolt from his body directly at the center of the creature. His skin burned as it tore through him, finding its target in a blast of white so bright, he had to squint not to be blinded. The creature dissolved in a shimmer of black.
Disorder mingled with death swirled in the air, set free by the sudden destruction of the body that contained it. The force of it created a wind that whipped Rowan's hair against his face and stole the air from his lungs. It knocked him off balance, and his back crashed into Alaric's chest.
Rowan's vision swam as he teettered on the brink of unconsciousness. Alaric's fingers gripped the back of his tunic as if he was afraid Rowan would be swept away by the raging vortex of energy. The touch was enough to keep Rowan from losing himself.
