The heat of battle was everywhere figuratively and literally, thanks to the torrents of black fire I was hurling at anything that moved. My blade clashed against steel, sparks flying in the dimly lit chamber. Enara was a whirl of dark magic, her small figure darting between shadows as if she were born to this chaos.
But we were losing ground.
"Liria, why is that one still standing?!" Ananara's sharp voice cut through the noise, his leafy crown flapping as he bounced irritably in my satchel.
"Maybe because he's wearing half a suit of armor?" I snapped, dodging a swing from the aforementioned guard. "Feel free to hop out and lend a hand, pineapple!"
"Excuse you, I'm an intellectual! My strength lies in my wisdom, not… whatever flailing you're doing with that sword."
"Don't tempt me to throw you into the fray!" I hissed.
