The last moments of consciousness are bitter and tiring. He remembers seeing the look of a murderer, his own eyes upon him. He remembers McKenna urging him forward despite her own pain. He even remembers cursing his own visage and attempting his best look of defiance as he punched on of his reflections. The pain in his head was so unbearable he didn’t feel the pain of glass shards cutting deep into his knuckles and fist or hear the sound of mirror shards tinkling as they fall to the ground. Before he blacks out he begs McKenna to abscond into the ether. He doesn’t hear anything as a harsh rumble shakes the structure and slams onto the floor. There is peace but it is brief as the hands of corpses come for him and he mocks the dead for a moment until he is utterly overwhelmed. Aiden screamed violently before the noise of his own voice subsided as he pulled away from it all. He follows the path of the nightmare, staring at his own dead body, hands clasped over his chest before looking into his own dead eyes as they flash open. There is darkness but a heavy sense of animalistic fear takes him over and he bolts upright in his own hospital bed, dripping in cold sweat.

The bed shakes as Aiden tries to gain his bearings. His loud panting and frantic rambling garners the attention of his visitors as well as the medical staff. He’s quick to settle down as he’s lucky enough to gain consciousness before Charani Petrov leaves. It’s easy enough for the seer to calm him and Aiden finally begins to take stock of himself. There dull pain mingling in his right fist, the bandages around his knuckles and pulled tightly around each of his fingers. He feels so sore and he’s sure there’s huge bruises on his back from debris. Slowly but surely, he manages to get caught up on the situation. Everyone was ok. Good, he hadn’t failed them in that then. Just barely anyway. No sign of the trinket. “Metnal.” He repeats to himself before looking over at his companion. His stare is blank as Aiden stares at his own hands. He’s unclear to what the meaning of the word is, but he knows it’s important. It must be. And it’s even more important that they figure out why. Whatever had been pulling the strings that night had power over something or maybe somebody? And they had all made enemies of whatever that something was. He leans back onto the bed, overcome with pain that wracked his tired body. That would be a search for another day however.



spells/items | (2/6) scroll of the switch, detection
techniques | hover, wings of wind


@jail percival grayreme Siobhan Kasparian