[h3][color=666fff]Alyona[/color][/h3]

[@Dezuel]

The lance managed to land true, but it didn't seem to affect the boy at all. '[color=666fff]Some kind of immunity? I didn't feel anything absorbed from the hit...[/color]' Alyona's mind raced. '[color=666fff]Water control and magical immunity? Which spirit did his harlot of a mother please to get all of these-[/color]' Her train of thought was interrupted when he sent her lance right back towards her. 

'[color=666fff]-gifts?![/color]' Alyona dodged out of surprise more than anything: Her lances were extensions of her in some way that she didn't fully understand; they seemed to be unable to harm her in any way, and she had tried... Extensively. She could grasp them, and even stand upon them, use them to play with her own hair, or twirl them in her hands, yet if they were thrown straight upwards in the air and landed back on her they simply were reabsorbed by her body or aura. It was something that her mentor remarked as a wonderful upside to her power, which had always irked Aly. It was a silver lining in the most trivial of ways; normal people couldn't grasp the lances anyway, and if a particularly gifted individual managed to, they'd be suffusing their hands with curses the entire time.

She didn't let the reminiscence distract her as she readied another wave of knives, but before the first arrived the boy had simply popped out of existence. She didn't see him duck behind any nearby cover - he had disappeared entirely. '[color=666fff]He's gone? Did the gods agree with me?[/color]' Alyona didn't understand what happened, but she turned to run - and the youth was back, this time blocking her escape route.

"[b][color=666fff][Teleporting too?! Your whore mother certainly got around-!][/color][/b]" Was all Alyona managed to say in Yekaterinan before being grabbed by the vortex. Being thrashed about was one thing, and being submerged in icy water against her will was another, but even a proud maiden of Yekaterina such as Alyona hadn't experienced both at once. As she held her breath and tried to keep herself from getting whiplash, she half-consciously, half-unconsciously began drawing out lances, the bolts of negative energy being whipped around and launched out of the vortex by the motion of the water. It wasn't any kind of plan in her mind - if they landed on someone, somewhere, she may gain precious seconds of consciousness. As if the lances were extensions of her own spirit, they lashed out in every direction, seeking for a way out - or at least another living thing to inflict the same pain she felt.