*Saoirse*
I grasped the dragon staff with both hands, my knuckles whitening as I funneled every ounce of my being into its ancient wood. The air crackled around me, the very atmosphere alive with anticipation and fear.
"Focus, Saoirse," I whispered to myself, my voice barely audible over the roar of power that surrounded me and the battle raging beyond that. It wasn't just the magic. It was the terror too, a creeping dread that slithered up my spine.
The staff vibrated in my hands, an untamed beast thrashing against my control. Magic spilled from it in waves, each pulse more ferocious than the last, filling the room with a blinding radiance that danced across the stone walls.
"It isn’t supposed to feel like this," I muttered, my breaths coming quick and shallow. The staff didn't answer, of course, but I felt its hunger, a ravenous void that threatened to swallow me whole. “It was never like this before.”
