Every second that passed felt like hours. Darkness raged around him, pushed back against the sea of golden light. Beads of sweat rolled down his chin as pain jolted throughout his body.
The Fae took one step after another. She was in no rush, and the distance between them seemed to matter a little to her. Her power was calm, very uncharacteristic for wildmagic. But perhaps, Aether thought with the last bits of sanity he still had, perhaps it was no longer so wild now that its master had returned.
But no matter how less wild it was, it was still poison to him, and humans as a whole. Despite looking very much like holy magic, it threatened to suffocate, to drown, to melt him within it. He couldn't let the golden mana touch him.