In the thick of the battlefield, there's so many things to pay attention to. Estinien, up in the sky, has largely been less of a focus for Syrlya--he's simply put his faith in Estinien being able to handle himself against every Kenoma whose attention he grabs. It isn't until Himeka and Abel are under the protection of healers that he has a moment that he isn't crossing blades with the Kenoma, isn't bleeding out too much as he can turn his attention back to the Sanctifier.
It's really taken a turn for the worst.
"Estinien!"
Syrlya surges forward, but he doesn't make it far in his places before he stops, staring up at their struggling form with dread. So far below, all he can do it watch until Estinien lands.
It never comes. Just as it seems like Estinien can muster the strength to return to them, let them shield him in turn... he's skewered upon spikes of darkness that hold him aloft.
Dying out of reach.
As the Sanctifier's form crumbles to that of only a man he looks back at the other Pleroma--helpless.
no subject
It's really taken a turn for the worst.
"Estinien!"
Syrlya surges forward, but he doesn't make it far in his places before he stops, staring up at their struggling form with dread. So far below, all he can do it watch until Estinien lands.
It never comes. Just as it seems like Estinien can muster the strength to return to them, let them shield him in turn... he's skewered upon spikes of darkness that hold him aloft.
Dying out of reach.
As the Sanctifier's form crumbles to that of only a man he looks back at the other Pleroma--helpless.