When the dust settled, we looked at each other. Each one weary and beaten by the battle with these beings. Dad was covered in wounds that would eventually seal once he got more blood. Marcus was no less worse for wear as he had a few missing fingers from the now burnt hand that he buried into the magical core. His leg was mangled up from what I can guess at being grabbed by the being and thrashed around. I knew I wasn’t much better, not that I was before the fight. Even though death magic was still around, I attempted to transform into my human form.