An Elf's Tale, Part 50

It was like the moment was frozen in an eternity—perceiving seconds in what felt like centuries. Lenora's cries kept resounding, filling up every recess in her mind, a droning endless limbo of pain that refused to ever cease.

The pure agony in her wide, soulless eyes. Her tears streaming, her body writhing. The suffering persisted.

Seconds in centuries.

"Please stop this!" Eshwlyn screamed again.

Then suddenly a dozen rattling, a dozen slamming, windows and doors shutting, patches of grass violently ripped from the earth as the wind turned feral, vicious, a concentrated blast of air that carried both red-hooded men into the air, blown back into large pillars of stone before landing to the ground, pelleted by a heavy rain of debris, and moved no longer. 

At once, Lenora fell quiet, the torture stopping… falling back limp and breathing only feebly.