Yet vibrant & vivid images of lights flooded his mind as he continued his slow, painfully slow fall. Swirls of stars shone through brilliantly against the black backdrop of his burning eyelids. They chased one another in endless spirals until all their colors of yellow, green, blue and white blended into one whole. When Lumirran finally flung his eyes open the scorching pain was waiting for him, waiting like the stout embrace of an old, forgotten friend. He contorted, grimaced and choked on his own pain-racked screams.
Almost as if all at once the pain suddenly numbed again and familiar faces took shape overhead. Their concerned, hardened features contrasted starkly with their wet, sad eyes -- eyes that bore an ominous glint. He never forgot that fateful day, but only one was there not of the Gods who witnessed the true unfolding of what had happened. Lumirran's older brother remembered it well. Instead of the slow, numbing fall there was a hot, blinding flash that all at once shook the room in sudden fury with its awakening.
It sent a lithe, elven body sprawling onto the floor in a writhing heap of sobs and screams. One hand mistakenly reached for the wound only to pull back fresh, wet blood and half-melted skin. That had brought on a shriller, much louder scream. The older brother remembered that scream well, for it had given him a grim satisfaction he hadn't known before. The scream also brought on the house nobles, alerted by horrified servants of House Elloufin who had been nearby. They all came running then, sprinting toward that tormented cellar. The older boy had frowned, hearing their closing footfalls. They always did spoil his fun, he thought, and this time would be no different. "