We asura don’t tend to give much thought to the history of the other Tyrian races. We’ve always been something of a breed apart, secure in our own superiority, and our research is ever looking to the future, not the past. As a result, I’d never given much thought to the Searing, either the events that had precipitated it or the magic itself. It was a strange and distant phenomenon, far away both in time and location, nothing I would ever have to consider in any depth.
The sky still rippled with light, colours that would have been glorious under other circumstances. The winds that whipped around the gorge were almost enough to floor me every time I dared leave the protective shelter of the rocky walls, whilst the crystals that rained from the sky were enough to ensure I didn’t go far.
Yet in the middle of it all, staggering through the maelstrom, was Blaise.