Priestess of the White

A brutally powerful blast battered her shield...

Auraya put all her concentration into drawing and channeling magic. The Pentadrian watched her intently, showing no sign of effort as his onslaught grew ever stronger. Then she found she could no longer draw magic fast enough to counter his attack. White light dazzled her as he broke down her defenses. She knew a brief instant of pure agony. Staggering backwards, she gasped for air and looked down at herself. She was alive and, to her surprise, unhurt.

Flee! Juran’s communication was like a shout in her mind. He is stronger. There is nothing more you can do.

The knowledge hit her like a physical blow. The Pentadrian could kill her. She felt a wave of terror and hastily created another shield. Looking up at the sorcerer she saw him smiling broadly. So much for immortality, she found herself thinking. People are going to remember me as the shortest-lived immortal in history. They’ll make jokes about me... She took a few steps toward the side door and encountered an invisible force.

“No, no,” the Pentadrian said. “You are not leaving.”