Adam gagged on the smell, turning his face away from the sickening sizzle of flesh. His voice trembled.
"Thomas...d-did I really just see that? Did she really...kill someone? Right here? On Academy grounds? Was that an execution?"
Thomas, too, had a hand pressed to his mouth, eyes half-closed as if warding off the sight. The reek was unbearable, and even he couldn't stomach the grotesque bubbling ruin of what had been the boy's face.
Yet despite it, a crooked, bitter smile pulled at his lips.
"No." He said slowly, voice low. "Not at all. He's not dead."
Adam snapped his head toward him, outrage flashing. "What do you mean he's not dead?! Half his face is melted off! Anyone would die from that!"
"Normally, yes." Thomas's smirk deepened, though his gaze was still averted from the scene. "But this isn't normal, Adam. That's Anya you're talking about. She's using her blessing on him, at the same time it burns him."
