Aether's Obsession
Warm and metallic, the taste of something internal giving way.
My hands were pressed flat against the cracking crystal, but I couldn't feel them properly — couldn't feel much of anything properly, because my body was doing something bodies are not supposed to do. Coming apart. Not violently, not with pain that screamed, but with the slow, terrible inevitability of something being reclaimed. Blue Aether rising through my skin from the inside, scattering into the wind in shimmering fragments, piece by piece, the edges of me becoming light and then becoming nothing.
And Vaelor.