Above The Sea of Fire

At Freiden, the mages affiliated with the water element worked tirelessly, even though part of the territory had already succumbed to the devouring flames.

Vador beat his wings to adjust his trajectory, holding the young elven mage close. She seemed young, at least—angelic face, eyes too wide to have seen centuries pass. In the air, she waved her ashwood staff. The surrounding mana froze for a moment before condensing into a torrent of water, unleashing a deluge upon the sea of fire below.

They repeated the maneuver until Vador's wings trembled with fatigue. He landed awkwardly among the Xarus clan soldiers, carefully setting his passenger down before stretching his back with a grimace.

"I… I'm not too heavy, am I?" the elf murmured, nervously playing with a strand of silver hair.

Vador averted his gaze, embarrassed. "No, ma'am. You weigh less than a pair of my feathers."