(Post written by Script and Tiko)
Sylvire had seen the leap; heard the crash. The sorceress scowled. So be it - she would not let Whisper escape merely through the use of civilians as cover. The elf propelled herself upwards with a platform of earth of her own, and stepped gracefully through the window that Whisper had crashed through. Her eyes scanned the room searchingly, and she frowned as she found only fog. But as had been demonstrated before in this battle -- what one elemental spell did, another could reverse. Sylvire spread her arms wide, and parted the fog like the red sea, sending it billowing out of the window behind her and leaving the room clear.
She caught sight of Whisper quickly, and directed her gaze at the girl. In order to ensure that she remained on the ground, Sylvire's eyes lit up, and twin beams of divine power seared from them with the aim of striking Whisper in the chest. It was a maintained beam that, whilst not highly damaging due to Alessia's own divine nature, would serve to keep her pinned by the heat and force behind it until Sylvire could approach.
Whisper was already pushing herself back to her feet as the fog parted only to feel something forcefully slam into her chest, slamming her back to the floor with a grunt. It took her but a moment to determine what was holding her in place, her eyes falling on Sylvire's approaching form. The situation was growing rather dire. What Whisper had in youth and a large mana reserve, Sylvire was more than making up with experience and precision. Her free hand closed to grip the beholder's spectacle tucked beneath her shirt. How easy it would be to just give it to Sylvire, but no. The things Nyx would do to her if she failed - she would rather die this day by Sylvire's hand than face Nyx's wrath should she lose the artifact. For the moment anyways, no further spells came from Whisper, her eyes set upon Sylvire.
Sylvire held her sword ready as she stepped beside Whisper. The gap closed to naught and Sylvire waved a hand, causing arcane ropes to shoot from the floor and tightly bind Whisper down, after which Sylvire ceased her onslaught of divine energies. By this point, Sylvire was low in her mana reserves -- but her staff still held a high amount of energy to be drawn upon. She was far from tiring. The sorceress lifted her sword over Whisper, and prepared to strike and finish her.
'Why don't you just kill the bad part?'Sylvire hesitated, the brief contact from Aiedai -- standing now in the doorway to the centre -- staying her hand. '
I can't, dear. I do not have that power.'
'
I can make it possible. They say I can. They say that in her world the many hers are no longer one, and that they see goodness in the hers that aren't quite her but are her at the same time.'
The confusing wording aside, Sylvire realised that Aiedai was right. Was it not she herself who had murmured about finding a psychic to force the Nyx out of Whisper in the past? She had not considered Aiedai, given the girl's instability, but the worst that could happen was Whisper would die. Which seemed quite likely anyway, given the circumstances.
And so Sylvire did not strike, and instead she stared down into Whisper's eyes. Her eyes flashed purple, and she attempted to forcefully coax the girl into unconsciousness.
As Sylvire drew close, Whisper had been prepared to release a final spell, but something caused her to hesitate; Sylvire's blow was seemingly stayed. She was not aware of the psychic exchange that took place, only that the expected blow did not come. Memories flitted through her head of that night so many weeks ago, Sylvire extending a hand to rest atop Whisper's shoulder, a gesture of support and friendship met with the flash of steel in a bloody act of betrayal and deceit. Whisper's spell unraveled from her grasp, never coming to completion. She simply couldn't find it within her to strike out against the woman who even now seemed to be extending mercy - if it could be called that. Surely Sylvire knew what Nyx would do to her if she was allowed to live.
"Please, you don't know what she'll do to us," she whispered. The flash of purple was hypnotic, drawing Whisper into the depths of Sylvire's gaze, before with a sinking sensation that too faded from her perception.
Sighing, the sorceress gestured to Aiedai. "Come." she said simply, approaching Whisper's limp form - though she paused to collect the fallen staff; an interesting artefact for sure, that Sylvire would have to investigate in detail at a later date. When Aiedai approached, Sylvire waved her hand over the group, and a brief, bright and crackling arcane portal expanded around them, before fading away and taking them with it. Back to the library. To see what they could make of Whisper's head.
