Hooves breezed over his rising body, clipping his withers from the left, but at the time, it was nothing that registered. Flickering fire obliterated everything but the intense bite of flames on his skin, the sickening void in his gut which threatened to turn him inside out. Breathe in. A quivering breath through scorched, smoke-stung nostrils, a mind ensconced in darkness and desperately holding on to what it could. The sheer intensity of the experience threatened to knock him out, and the rhythm of his chest rising and falling was the only thing anchoring him. Breathe out. Somewhere, he heard Tamlin cry out - what was his son doing here? Breathe in- for you. He didn't dare open his eyes again, not even to search out the small, fragile form of his only son. Breathe out- you should run, and all he saw all of a sudden was

- darkness.

The pain ground on for a moment, not quite understanding the meaning of the lack of light beyond his closed eyes. But then, the agony died out like the last echoes of a shout, formulating a question with their ceasing. Every part of him felt raw and ragged, expecting the fierce pain to roar into life again the moment he moved - but it didn't. Only the deep throb on his withers and left flank remained, and the King frowned slightly. If only that pain remained... what of the rest? What of being on fire, of feeling the flames peel away his cracked skin and drying it out, causing it to break and bleed? What of the hot rush around his body, the crackling whispers in his ears, the feeling of his eyelashes melting? Only vacant cool evening air cradled him, and not sure what he was expecting, Mauja opened his eyes.

The sun was setting, slipping below the trees, long shadows cast across the familiar battlefield. The mist which he knew so well was thickening, the bodies a distant blur around him, sounds muted by the water droplets suspended in the air - he could smell blood and fear and anger, he could see the shape of the giant dragon-thing barreling away. Holding his breath, heart pumping in confused elation, Mauja craned his head to take a look at his own flank.

It was alabaster white, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, unbroken, unbloodied - no fire had ravaged it.

It hadn't been real.

Standing there behind the enemy lines he gave a shaking, disbelieving laughter, snorted, and shook his head. Who the hell had caused it? No matter, no matter - it hadn't been real. It hadn't been real! He felt like spinning in joy, but it would be a waste of energy on a battlefield, and instead he just grinned like a fool. Movement caught his attention - to his right, now that he'd spun to face the parade of asses, a gray equine was limping away. Briefly he contemplated filling his blood with ice, but decided against it. He seemed genuinely wounded, so why waste energy on him? He was dead meat anyway.

Instead, Mauja sought out the magic nestled around his bones, and pulled it into his mind's focus again. A cold shiver traveled down his spine, another giddy laugh escaping him. He couldn't see what was going on beyond the line of bodies, but he had his target anyway - had seen his bestially huge shape move off. With a single thrust of his mind, the chill of his power caressed him again. It was in the blood of VIKRAM that several crystals sprung up, magicked into his bloodstream by simple will alone. The magic was a sweet rush through Mauja's body as he fed his creation, wishing them to grow as rapidly as they could, to cut open the dragon's veins and bleed him from within. With that little mischief done, he began to move forward, still grinning like a maniac.

Somewhere to his left, a Pegasus (JAYDAN) crashed out of the sky, and with nothing better to do, Mauja tore off after it. The pinched skin on his flank murmured a protest each time it stretched, but he paid it no more heed than he did the throbbing of his withers. With a merry edge to his step the King nearly bounced across the soggy ground. But oh, damn! His target shot into the sky, lashing out at his poor Deimos, and with a madman's grin the King collected his haunches and pushed off the ground. Arching his neck and leveling his horn with the horizon, Mauja did the stupid thing of leaping up into the Pegasus' path, trying to collide with him - and hopefully penetrate that thick chest with his horn.

Hopefully Deimos would move aside for the landing.

[ 800, 2/2 magic uses ]
( Leander's kick clips his withers as he's getting up, and soon after the flames disappear. He places ice crystals in Vikram's blood before charging for Jaydan, and on a whim leaping up to to frontally collide with him, with his horn pointing for Jaydan's chest. )

Mauja Frosthjärta