NOT GOOD. The minute both fae are on the field, Carly's pouring as much as she has into the violet flames, the shadow practically overtaking their light. These are not true 'fires' that she has spent more than a year practicing with; they look like it, and act like it, but they are not 'it'. Demon fire, a light-bearing haze that is cold to the touch, and eats the energy of whatever touches it.

She had hoped, if she were able to face Ignatius as distraction, that she could buy time in the moments that it ate his flame-if only until the fae no doubt realized it and over powered her instead.

For now, this is all she has. She fuels the shield, and braces for whatever may come.