Ara clamped his hands against his ears as the Shadows let out horrific screeches and disintegrated before his eyes. When they were gone, he looked about. Not a trace was left of them. They were gone. Someone, he didn't know who must have stopped them.
Ara let out a relieved sigh as he heard Flamara's voice in his mind. She was alright. Thank the gods.
All of a sudden, a wave of exhastion hit the Halfborn like a truck of bricks. His legs suddenly no longer felt strong enough to support him and he flopped against the wall, panting. He couln't remember the last time he'd slept, or even rested for that matter. The cuts from the fighting had weakened him considerably and his vision was blurred with the sweat running off his forehead. He was too tired to respond to Flamara's call. She knew where he was anyway if she needed him.
Leaning against the wall, Ara groaned as his stiff and aching limbs relaxed painfully.
Looks like winning would be a little more painful than he'd imagined.
Note to self: Never stay awake for more than three days at a time. It'll save me the aching afterwards.