An Elf's Tale, Part 46

"Girian Mist, in case you're curious, the Tower Magus of Astra. I'm sure you've already guessed, but he will be the attending Magus to your Conversion." 

Eshwlyn was still hurling, the bathroom echoing loudly with her retches. Her shoulders were twitching, her arms spazzing as her knees dug deeper and deeper into the grooves of the floor tilings. 

It was as if she was being emptied of all her organs, she was without control, and every time she attempted to repress the urge, the feeling would only swell, prying her lips wide open… and the harsh echoes would repeat again.

"Don't… don't force it to stop, if you could…" Terra gently advised her, the curls of her robes vaguely skirting the corner of Eshwlyn's eyes. "... and let me… let me know if you start seeing blood, alright? But hopefully the damage isn't to that extent…"