[h3]Jaelnec, Irah and Madara, Armory, Bor Manor, Borstown[/h3]
Still half-blind and aching, Jaelnec's expression was only a bit tense until a frown came over it at Irah's description of the last remaining divine in Bor Manor. She had guessed it might be a thalk earlier, and now she said that she sensed bloodthirst, hate and rage from it, which gave more than a little food for thought. Though he had never fought angels himself, he had witnessed Freagon fight them at several different occasions, so he had first-hand experience with thalks and frentits alike.
It made sense that the frentits would just be “having fun,” as Irah put it; that was the mindset most free-willed divines had when they were unleashed in Reniam, eager as they were to seize the opportunity for new experiences. The violence, destruction and trauma they tended to cause mundanes was often the result of indifference rather than malevolence, since they – as immortals that never knew true death and would heal from any injury – did not always comprehend how much more serious such things were for mortals. Strong negative emotions as the ones she described now were unusual in all but the most hostile and dangerous divines, or those who had been somehow wronged and motivated to feel that way.
So what could have instilled such dark emotions in this thalk? The most likely explanation was that the summoner had enslaved it, of course, but if she was strong enough to control something as wily as a thalk, why had she just let the frentits loose like this? It did not feel like it added up.
Another realization Jaelnec had at Irah's mention of the wraiths and ghouls being possessed by frentits was that it was fortunate that they had been so intent on playing around in their new bodies. Frentits were naturally rather bestial angels that primarily fought with tooth and claw, so it was only natural for them to be hopelessly inept with tools like weapons. There was actually a fair chance that the ghouls would have been more dangerous if they had not been trying to fight as humans.

The other-other thing that made Jaelnec frown at Irah's words was the fact that she could not only sense their presence and relative strength, not only decipher their state of mind, but could apparently do so from far away and without even line of sight. He had [I]never[/I] encountered someone with such keen magical senses before, except maybe some of the best Sniffers. Jaelnec only had the faintest hint of magical sensitivity himself and no experience with any kind of magic, but he had been around enough mages – both of the commonly acceptable variety that lived normal lives across Rodoria and practitioners of forbidden arts – to know that there was virtually no chance that Irah was all that she seemed. His best guess would be that she was a necromancer, since it was common knowledge that they had sharper magical senses than others, but even for a necromancer...
Not that he was going to act on his suspicions, of course. Not only did the idea of potentially having to treat the cute deigan as an enemy fill his heart with regret and disgust, but he also knew that if [I]he[/I] had deduced that something odd was going on with her, then Freagon would absolutely have noticed as well. Jaelnec would happily ignore his own evaluation and trust his master's judgment instead. Since Freagon did not react to her statement beyond turning away from her and looking off toward the western landing where their final opponent supposedly awaited them.
Jaelnec had no idea just what Freagon might be thinking on the matter, or if he had any opinion on it at all. The old knight had never cared too much about the law, nor did he often adhere to the common definitions of “right” and “wrong” or “monster”, for that matter. They had fought (by which he meant that Freagon had fought and Jaelnec spectated) alongside necromancers, summoners and witches as often as they had fought against them depending on the situation, though admittedly most practitioners of the forbidden arts Jaelnec had met had been deo'iel. It was probably unlikely for Freagon to treat Irah with hostility solely based on using outlawed magic, so as long as nobody else made a fuss about it, chances were – happily so – that they might work with the pretty sorceress for a little while.

Then, much to Jaelnec's surprise, Irah addressed him personally and, gently caressing his face from his cheek to his eyes, spoke a prayer to Reina as a soft white, magical glow emerged where their skin touched.
It was entirely too much for Jaelnec's mind to keep up with.
One part of his brain went: [I]Huh, she's a Favored One, too? So she's an elementalist, probably a necromancer [/I]and[I] a Favored One. Quite the multi-talent.[/I]
Another part of him wondered: [I]This feels... odd? None of the other times I've been healed by a Favored One of Reina felt like this. This feels warmer, but also more... itchy, almost? Like it almost hurts?[/I]
A more critical thought wondered: [I]She'd waste her limited healing magic on my eyes when I would probably recover on my own in a little while, even though I've just been standing over here doing nothing?[/I]
And a final, more honest voice noted: [I]Her fingertips are rough, but her palms are so soft... and she smells like goldberries.[/I]
But regardless of the musings that raced through the young page's mind, the healing light wiped away the red outlines and clarified his vision so that he was treated to a view with fully functional eyes of Irah as she pulled her hand away. He saw her standing on tiptoes to reach his face, saw her looking straight into his face, saw her turning away bashfully as she apologized for the lightning and asked if he was all right now.

Jaelnec straightened his back, puffed his chest out and tried as hard as he could to not start blushing profusely and giggling happily. He was mostly successful, but not entirely; there was a bit of a blush on his neck and cheeks, and he could not suppress his blissful smile entirely.
“I am fine now,” he told her, unintentionally making his voice sound a bit deeper than normal. “Thank you, miss, but it's my own fault. I could tell he was casting a spell, I should've looked away.”
Even just acknowledging his mistake to himself made Jaelnec deflate a little again as his eyes – imperceptibly due to their uniform blackness – darted to Freagon across the hall. He was certain that he was going to be reprimanded for that mistake later.

[hr]
[h3]Jaelnec, Freagon, Irah, Lhirin, Nabi, Yanin, Jordan and Madara, Bor Manor, Borstown[/h3]
Beyond the armory, in the hall where the fighting had now come to an end, Lhirin and Nabi might notice that the aura that had been disrupting their magic and magical senses seemed to dissipate.