Silence fell. Time stood still.
A soft, terrified voice sounded in Erik's mind. "M— Master…" Eira cried out sadly. "I- I failed…" Panicked and helpless feelings flooded over through his bond with the sigil construct as she continued muttering in his mind, "I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"
Intense pain and weakness began to radiate through Erik's body. Trembling, he looked down at the source of his anguish. There, a white-furred, transformed werewolf hand was plunged through his chest, covered in dark shadowflame and blood.
Shadowflame had inherited the properties of its base affinity, frostfire, in that it was constantly alternating between searing heat and freezing cold. Thus, his blood was stuck in an eternal cycle of freezing and boiling, a sensation that transferred to his body and made him feel like he was in hell.
