Chapter Text
There are no words to encompass this pain. It’s consuming him, atom by atom, molecule by molecule; he is being flayed. Flames sear at his skin—they lick their way outside of him, vacating their confines to claw at muscle and sinew. The inferno builds and builds, a blazing wave which never crests. He can feel his bones charring, his flesh shriveling and peeling away from his face, his hands.
Something rips from his back, wet and sharp. The pain is excruciating; he has known nothing like this, no suffering that can begin to compare. His body contorts in agony.
He is falling. The flames burn hotter as he gathers speed; the wind claws at what’s left of his wings; stripping feather from flesh, snapping bones like twigs. There is another wet rip, another eternal moment of unrelenting agony.
He shouts into the blackness, his voice swallowed by the high scream of his Grace.
Then, mercifully, there is nothing.
