Matthias sways into Kitty's grip. His staff is loose in his hand. He grabs at it, tighter, as she pulls at him, and without protest he lets himself be led.
But like a stone in the boot, there is something about this that rubs at the inside of his head, and worries. He did it. He freed them, or made it so they might be freed. And he feels thick, and tired, like he could lay down here and get some sleep--and no one cares. Kitty cares. She's saying nice things anyways, but it all feels quite far off, and Matthias turns to look back over his shoulder. The narrow tunnel of his vision focuses on the bearded man who is walking away from them, stiff and proud.
It's over. He can go back now. All he has to do is follow Kitty, who is his friend, who got shoved for standing next to him, for trying to placate the bastard. And all because they were here to save the others. It hurts, this stone. It festers. And so for himself, and for Kitty, and for mages and Rifters and anyone that gets treated like an animal. To satisfy the itch. It's petty. He doesn't care. He summons the last of what he has, and lets it loose.
A wall of force passes over the snowy path--swift, brutal. It slams into the villager's back like a herd of rampaging druffalo, fierce and blind and cruel. The man is bowled forward. Matthias has turned away before he hits the ground. He isn't looking anywhere at all, when the pained shout rings out.
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But like a stone in the boot, there is something about this that rubs at the inside of his head, and worries. He did it. He freed them, or made it so they might be freed. And he feels thick, and tired, like he could lay down here and get some sleep--and no one cares. Kitty cares. She's saying nice things anyways, but it all feels quite far off, and Matthias turns to look back over his shoulder. The narrow tunnel of his vision focuses on the bearded man who is walking away from them, stiff and proud.
It's over. He can go back now. All he has to do is follow Kitty, who is his friend, who got shoved for standing next to him, for trying to placate the bastard. And all because they were here to save the others. It hurts, this stone. It festers. And so for himself, and for Kitty, and for mages and Rifters and anyone that gets treated like an animal. To satisfy the itch. It's petty. He doesn't care. He summons the last of what he has, and lets it loose.
A wall of force passes over the snowy path--swift, brutal. It slams into the villager's back like a herd of rampaging druffalo, fierce and blind and cruel. The man is bowled forward. Matthias has turned away before he hits the ground. He isn't looking anywhere at all, when the pained shout rings out.