Dazed. Dizzy. Ultimately confused.

Avad was alll of these things.

Having been [i]struck by lightning[/i] and bearing no metal upon him, he was badly shaken, and wasn't thinking clearly at all. His spellbook was clutched tightly to his side as though it could ward of death. Eventually, he managed to string together a few vague thoughts: [i]Silver fox on his neck. Famous thief. Princess is gone. King is not going to be pleased.[/i]

Then he took a moment, upon regaining full thought processes, to consider what the scene looked like. Himself, a known storm mage, lying in the corridor. A lock fused and blasted off by lightning. A missing princess. None of this was any kind of evidence for his innocence, and he ground his teeth at how he'd been unwittingly manipulated by that harsh bitch Fate.

Staggering to his feet, he began to hear the sounds of sabatons clanking down the hall at a rapid pace, and made his choice. "[color=cccccc]Andom têllumar neru'un vanastel[/color]." Another cloud of fog spread from his open hand, and the footsteps slowed for the crucial moment it took for him to bring himself to his feet and back up a few paces from the window. "I'm glad you're waterproof," he murmured, stroking the spellbook, before sprinting to the formerly-glass opening and leaping through.

On the way down, he began to draw the glyph in the air for an unnaturally thick cloud to cushion his landing. Instead, he received a sharp spike of pain through his temples. "Ohhhh no..." he groaned. "I overdrew."

That was the last thing he said before plummeting into the water with an ungainly splash and promptly being nearly drowned by his robe. It was an exercise in humiliation for him to flounder to shore, his head aching incredibly badly. He stumbled, the dizziness of unrestrained magic use from that wild bolt taking its toll.

"I...hate you...so much..." he grimaced as he slogged up beside the thief.