Year: 333 After Return, Thesa.
As the two warriors plunged over the cliff, thoughts whirled through the mind of Arlen Bales. If he could just let go, it would end here. He'd be reunited with his mother. He could see her smiling at him. Jardir hurled insults, but he knew the Krasian would soon be dead. The ground swelled up underneath them, and Arlen smiled and opened his arms wide, imagining falling into the arms of his mother. The bone chilling sound of Ahmann's body hitting the ground brought him back to reality, and he willed his powers into existence, dissipating into a mist moments before he hit the ground. He passed through it, as insubstantial as a ghost, but this time, he didn't stop just below the surface. Instead, he continued on, into the Core, dragged along against his will. He tried to scream, but had no body with which to create any noise at all. He clawed at any escape route, pulling futilely away from the Core's grasp. He could feel the presence of mind demons all around. Then all of a sudden, the presences surrounding him disappeared, and he moved upwards, towards the light, unhindered.
He broke the surface and resolidified rapidly, taking in great gasps of air. He looked to the west. The sun was setting. Soon night would be upon him. Breaking the Core's hold had exhausted him. There was little chance he could challenge the night in his current state. He set off at a swift run, his bare feet slapping the ground. It was futile. He couldn't outrun the setting sun, nor a host of field demons, but he couldn't fight them either. After the sun had fully set, and the horde on his heels was large enough, he turned, inscribing heat and impact wards in the air, throwing back the demons, and setting the wood corelings alight. He stood, shedding his robe a moment, and the full moonlight shone over his tattooed skin. "Come on then." He growled. "I ent goin without a fight."