Lightning struck down and all that was left of the morph was ash. Parthos staggered back his hand stuck to his side. His lightning was fast enough to kill the morph but not the attack. The sword of the morph had changed course, it was no longer a killing blow but a blow that would give you only moments to live. The sword was now laying a few feet from the bleeding and groaning mage, he saw his blood smeared all over the sword and trailing where it had travelled.
He lifted his shirt to inspect the wound that spread across the left of his chest like a mouth of a monster, one glance was all he needed to summarize he would die if he did nothing. There would be no possible way he would reach the others without being on the edge of death. He closed his eyes.
He pushed himself up into a kneeling position, resting both his hands on the wound finding it hard to concentrate, partly wishing that he could just wait for help instead of moving so much instead. He felt warmth coming from his hands, then he felt the pain spreading and growing across his side as the warmth turned into a burning sensation.
He could smell his very flesh burning his jaw tightened then went slack as the pain became numbing. He thought to himself as he sealed the wound, "I should have used thunder or lightning whatever you call it, fire is so ungracefull" Though that would be a stupid idea since he would have burnt his entire body into a crisp. His mind was flowing from one thing to another eventually his magic stopped and he fell over, losing concious going into a welcome sleep. His magic burned into his side forever marking him.
