Wrenching his hammer free of the wreck that had been the Margonite's skull, Aurus turned to survey the horizon, eyes very much searching for the other two of its kind, half expecting them to launch an attack of their own. When he did catch sight of them there atop the sand dune, he stood facing them down at a distance, hammer held ready in front of him. If they did decide to attack then he was obviously prepared, and when they retreated?
The sylvari's stormy purple eyes watched them go, assessing what meaning to take from their withdrawal. They had clearly realized it was not worth it to try and fight him now, like this. Did that mean they would not try at a later time? Did it mean that when they turned and retreated across the desert they would keep going and not come back at all? Those things were all uncertain. That, however, was often the way with living here. He would be on his guard in the days and nights to come.
Frowning back down at the corpse of the Margonite he'd killed, Aurus realized that there was another question which wanted answers he did not have: were these things indeed related to Kralkatorrik? And if so, in what way?
He could still see one side of the row of three eyes visible beneath the cracked helm and caved in head of his foe, the purple wings now limp and twisted. And he was aware that the dragon's flight had begun to do something to the creatures here, or at least some of them. He'd seen at a distance devourers that seemed to have become purple crystal, and though he did not know the extent or what it portended, he doubted that the one or two he'd seen would be the end of it.
His gut told him this thing he'd killed wasn't quite the same matter, but he had no answers. He couldn't be sure.
That did, however, bring him back to the question of the boy. If he had become some sort of crystalline beast then perhaps a conclusion could be inferred. That was if he still lived at all.
The desert made it easy to follow his tracks at least, and Aurus made his way up the dune where they led. The other two Margonites could have taken his body away, the sylvari realized--once they'd gone beyond the swell of the dune, they had been out of his sight--so he was almost surprised to still find him lying there on the sand, and evidently neither purple nor crystal.
Rolling him over onto his back, Aurus knelt down to have a good look at him, brushing the sand off of his face as he did. He was still breathing, at least for now, but even without whatever damage had been done by the creature's attack, he still might die of exposure--his skin looked badly sunburned, his lips dry and cracked. If he was going to survive, Aurus needed to get him inside straight away.
For that reason he decided that, if the boy didn't immediately begin to wake on his own, he would not try to wake him now at all. Instead he would just stow his hammer, pick the unconscious body up, fling him over his shoulder, and head back to his cave as quickly as he could.
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The sylvari's stormy purple eyes watched them go, assessing what meaning to take from their withdrawal. They had clearly realized it was not worth it to try and fight him now, like this. Did that mean they would not try at a later time? Did it mean that when they turned and retreated across the desert they would keep going and not come back at all? Those things were all uncertain. That, however, was often the way with living here. He would be on his guard in the days and nights to come.
Frowning back down at the corpse of the Margonite he'd killed, Aurus realized that there was another question which wanted answers he did not have: were these things indeed related to Kralkatorrik? And if so, in what way?
He could still see one side of the row of three eyes visible beneath the cracked helm and caved in head of his foe, the purple wings now limp and twisted. And he was aware that the dragon's flight had begun to do something to the creatures here, or at least some of them. He'd seen at a distance devourers that seemed to have become purple crystal, and though he did not know the extent or what it portended, he doubted that the one or two he'd seen would be the end of it.
His gut told him this thing he'd killed wasn't quite the same matter, but he had no answers. He couldn't be sure.
That did, however, bring him back to the question of the boy. If he had become some sort of crystalline beast then perhaps a conclusion could be inferred. That was if he still lived at all.
The desert made it easy to follow his tracks at least, and Aurus made his way up the dune where they led. The other two Margonites could have taken his body away, the sylvari realized--once they'd gone beyond the swell of the dune, they had been out of his sight--so he was almost surprised to still find him lying there on the sand, and evidently neither purple nor crystal.
Rolling him over onto his back, Aurus knelt down to have a good look at him, brushing the sand off of his face as he did. He was still breathing, at least for now, but even without whatever damage had been done by the creature's attack, he still might die of exposure--his skin looked badly sunburned, his lips dry and cracked. If he was going to survive, Aurus needed to get him inside straight away.
For that reason he decided that, if the boy didn't immediately begin to wake on his own, he would not try to wake him now at all. Instead he would just stow his hammer, pick the unconscious body up, fling him over his shoulder, and head back to his cave as quickly as he could.