It might have felt a relief, conjuring, but he couldn't do it forever. Lances fell to dust, the backlash only adding to the filth building up within and without.

He couldn't keep it up forever, but this...this shape, this thing...It wouldn't go away.

Despair. Fear.

The next lance was pointed down, sending Martin into the air. He twisted, tucking and rolling as he landed, scrambling to his feet and running.