Blinded with smoke and pain, Summer clutched one hand to the wound in her side, tried to call the fire again, and staggered in the air. A streetlamp blindsided her, forcing her into a pinwheel tumble, headlong to the ground. She crashed down, flaming wings setting a few small fires before vanishing utterly, and cried out once before falling unconscious. Even in her coma, muscle seizures shook her body.
A loud crash made Lex jump in her living room. She ran to the window, and saw a figure on the ground, covered in smoke— it was lying on the street just under her window. Frowning, her eyes widened as she saw the wings and perceived the aura… her aura.
“Summer!” Lex cried out, hastily opening the door and running down the stairs to help her friend. By the time Lex arrived, Summer wasn’t conscious anymore. She knelt beside her, whispering her name and looking for any sign of life in her. “Shit.” Lex cursed, gasping when she noticed her bloodstained hands. Now she had to act quickly. She scooped up the girl, careful about not damaging her wings, and took her inside, hoping nobody had seen this. In her arms, Summer was spasming, nearly causing Lex to fall over a few times.
Finally, they made it inside. She laid Summer down on the sofa, and darted off to wash her hands and pick up a spellbook. She’d need it for later. Lex knelt down again, removing the clothes that covered Summer’s wound and placed both hands upon it. Then she closed her eyes, trying to concentrate. Lex whispered a healing spell, hoping it would suffice for now. There was not enough time to make a strong potion without risking Summer’s life. Lex opened her eyes, watching how the wound was glowing, healing and slowly closing itself again.
The magic slid in under her skin, stemming bloodflow and knitting nerve and muscle back together. Summer’s breathing didn’t ease, though, and even in the middle of the spell her back arched up off the sofa in a massive spasm, dragging a strangled cry from her lips. Her shields crashed and she began to broadcast emotion in odd spatters, pain and fear and anger and hatred and excitement.
Her eyes didn’t open, either. In her mind, she was still fighting the battle, dodging strikes and hurling fireballs, desperately trying to survive long enough for help to arrive.
