Aelthar's nightmare -2

Aelthar clawed at his throat, gagging as the ember of hellfire slithered down his gullet, scorching his insides like liquid iron.

His veins pulsed golden beneath his skin, divinity instinctively fighting the strange invasion, yet the flames did not merely burn—they corroded and consumed.

"Painful, isn't it?" Rio murmured, as a muffled scream tore through the god's throat. "Do you feel it crawling under your skin? Eating away at your heart?"

"That's what I feel too." Rio's words were matched with a similar burn as his palms pressed against the god's chest.

Aelthar thrashed, his body convulsing as golden blood trickled from his lips, evaporating into shimmering mist before it could even stain the ground.

His limbs quivered as he reached for his mangled stumps, grasping for power he no longer had.

His once proud and powerful form, now reduced to that of a wretch, trembling beneath Rio's feet.