Artur looked at the elf -- Morgan, he supposed -- strangely as the other blabbered on like a small child talking to his imaginary friends. Artur's sword arm fell to his side, though his grip didn't loosen. It was unreal. He couldn't get a word in edgewise the elf as he went from lightspeed introductions to apathy laced with fear and wariness, to sitting down and cradling himself. Moreover, he had called Artur a [i]knight[/i] and by the Gods Artur looked nothing like one of those armored brutes. True, the Guardians' garb took after the armor worn by the First Order [i]well over a century ago[/i], and they were currently in a very secluded part of the reaches, but . . . 

Could the elf be unstable? Artur quickly did a check-over the way all acolytes were taught in their Counseling lectures. Deep scarring indicated possible battle wounds, but they were old, and the shock of injury would have worn off by now, though Artur knew little about the elven composition. There seemed to be no Taints on him, so he ruled out lower-level demonic activity. Battle wounds of the spirit often plagued those who had experienced extreme violence -- that would certainly explain the speech, which flowed like wine from an unstoppered skin. Judging by his accent -- and here the elf's ears twitched, and Apocalypse suddenly tossed his head, rising up on his back legs a few times and turning in a circle as if to bolt -- judging by his accent . . .

Artur didn't have time to make a judgement as the elf suddenly began to glow with demon's light and Apocalypse reared and bolted, nearly throwing Artur. The elf took off at the same time, still glowing, running at inhuman speeds toward the forest. Artur yelled at Apocalypse, who thankfully, in his fear, chose to run in the same direction. Heedless of his passenger, the stallion burst through the forest, Artur low on his neck. The elf was easy to follow, glowing brighter with each moment, and Artur locked his eyes on the light. Suddenly, Apocalypse screamed and tilted, and Artur had only a moment's notice to leap off his back before the horse fell, having tripped on a stone in his wild gallop. Artur landed and rolled, the heavy padding of his surcoat sparing him some damage, though the wind was knocked out of his lungs. He lay there, gasping for breath, while his horse screamed beside him. 

"Hush, now," he forced out between clenched teeth, and reached for some calming powder in his pants pocket. He found it and was about to toss it at Apocalypse, when a scream broke the silent night.

"Help me!" Artur sat up, wincing. He had broken a rib. Every breath was agony. But he slowly clambered to his feet, found the light again, and began to run. The fine, blonde hairs on his arms began to stand up, just as they had when the lightning struck, and Artur had long ago learned to trust his body's reactions to the world around him. [i]Demonic activity[/i], he thought, and squared his jaw.

The elf was writhing on the ground when Artur came within sight of him, illuminated by the kind of soft light that would have been beautiful if it hadn't been the lavender of the No-God, and if it hadn't been coming from the elf himself. Artur halted and gasped. The elf looked like he was being torn apart, a porcelain figure slowly disintegrating, all the while screaming in pain. The priest still clutched his calming powder, and now he tore the pouch open with his teeth and threw the entire contents over the elf. It would quiet pain and blur the mind, locking it in a cloud of sleep. Often it was burned as incense in the halls of Counselors, to put those seeking their comfort and advice at ease. In strong doses, it could put a man to sleep for many days.

The powder scattered over the elf. Artur didn't wait to see if it would take effect, for he was deeply afraid that it wouldn't. His rib panged and the sound of a millions of insects filled his ears again. He fell to one knee, supported by his sword, still clutching it tightly, and began to recite from the book of Excorcisms, shouting over the sound of demons in his mind. He hadn't specialized in Exorcism, but his instructors had always praised his perfect pronunciation and beautiful voice, and he prayed to the Gods above that they would aid him now.