Aw, hell. Syrlya ducks as the flames come forward, his grip on his sword tightening. He can phase through the initial burst, but he'll have to time it right. He's tense and watching the flames closely--and then Rita dives in, shielding his gaze as she tries to block the fire around them. It's more her element than his, but...
The pattern of a clock appears under their feet, the hands ticking down around a swirl of purple color. There's a sense of magic that pulses on their bodies, preventing some of the flame from hurting them. Not everything, not enough to stay here, but enough that they won't immediately die.
And then, then they're swamped in water and Syrlya's just throwing completely off balance for a moment. He absolutely makes the attempt to hold his breath as he tries to anchor himself in the water, before realizing he's still breathing.
It's still kind of hard to swing a sword like this, so he peers around to see how Ignatius is coping.
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The pattern of a clock appears under their feet, the hands ticking down around a swirl of purple color. There's a sense of magic that pulses on their bodies, preventing some of the flame from hurting them. Not everything, not enough to stay here, but enough that they won't immediately die.
And then, then they're swamped in water and Syrlya's just throwing completely off balance for a moment. He absolutely makes the attempt to hold his breath as he tries to anchor himself in the water, before realizing he's still breathing.
It's still kind of hard to swing a sword like this, so he peers around to see how Ignatius is coping.