"You wish to fight me alone?" Connor seemed offended by R'lissea, his eyes narrowing. "After feeling this? My power?"
He emphasized his words by bringing the haft of his scythe onto the ground. A sharp crack rang out as the decaying stones of the throne room floor cracked. A wave of mana swept out, a tangible wave that broke against my wards with the force of a seventh-circle spell. R'lisesa flinched, her wards flickering a good deal more than mine.
But she was undaunted, taking a step against the winds. "Life is more than healing. It's more than sunshine and growth. It's more than the journey, for there can be no life without death. Even the gods and emperors have an end when they fall from their peerless heights. Life, and death, and then life again. New and exciting. But you've tainted all that with the Black Mist. With your own selfishness."
