Urin's eyes widened as she looked down at her right arm.
Static energy danced across her skin like living lightning. Her hand twitched once, then went completely still. She tried to move it, to call upon the cosmic essence within her veins, but her power no longer answered. The arm hung limply at her side, dead weight.
The sensation was worse than pain.
It was absence.
It wasn't numbness like the shadows Zarazel had inflicted before. Her arm was gone—not physically, but in every other way. Her energy couldn't reach it, her soul couldn't sense it. Something had severed the connection between her will and her flesh.
It was as though that part of her had been stolen.
And perhaps, it had.
Even facing such horror, Urin's gaze did not waver. Her eyes sharpened, focusing on her opponent. The pain was meaningless now; only understanding mattered. Her mind raced, piecing together what had just happened.
