Honed
Amri
Pain flared in Amri's chest as the world swirled back into focus.
They were in the middle of... where?
A temple of some sort, stone statues of the gods decorated the hollows in the walls, or stood in rows along the floor. No, not stood. Many were carved from stalagmites, bonded to the floor because they were part of it.
Amri looked up to see the stone head of Mohsen, The Star of Benevolent Intervention, falling toward her.
At the last second, she dodged, rolling out from under the head as it crunched into the tiles behind her.
In the middle of the space, Amri recognized Shiza, fighting alongside a man in a mask as they struggled against a shriveled old sage, who lashed out with fingernails as long as Amri's forearms.
"Look at you, old man," the masked man taunted as he dodged another strike. "What are you even doing with your life?"