Concentrate on their magical energy? What did that mean? How was he supposed to do that? What did magical energy eve [i]feel[/i] like?

Any other questions he might have had died as he felt something foreign enter his body. It danced around inside of him, turning his insides into a whirlpool of strange sensations, before bursting into white hot pain. His body spasmed as death coursed through his veins, fighting against his will to live in an unyielding struggle. It was a challenge to even recall what the Dragon had told them; something about concentrating and shapes and [i]anything[/i] to stop the pain.

He was in such a state that it was too painful to even muster a scream. He simply curled on the ground, alone in his head as he slowly, painstakingly imagined a shape. A shape that could save him. It was painful and he didn't want to die! He was [i]not[/i] going to die!

His hand gripped air as a shape came to mind. Something that could prevent this - a chain. A simple, thick chain; it looked misshapen, deformed even, but this was a tool he knew, a tool he could use . . .