Lars could feel it. Ahrain was the source of magic here, and with every spell he cast the sergal's twisted presence wormed its way further into his mind. The rage, the pain, frothing under the surface of his mind - the longer this fight went on the worse he became. But without this magic he couldn't hope to defeat him.

"You could just walk away, you know." Ahrain's voice was smooth but dangerous, like honey laced with cyanide. "Turn your back on all this. I wouldn't even follow you. Never let it be said that I don't offer you a merciful exit."

"Did you offer the same thing to my dad?" Lars yelled as he fired another spell that made the very air warp with power, as the earth was carved apart by the sheer force of their duel. His arms were on fire, energy carving deep scars into his scales, but still he flung spell after spell.

And as his world was twisted into foul, screaming shapes, he slowly realised he might not be able to do it.

---

For such a climactic juncture in Lars' journey, it seems only fitting that the piece depicting it be just as showstopping. And on that front  juniorjosi has once again exceeded my expectations.

VERY happy with this one!