Moon lay on the cold stone floor of an empty room, far from the throne room, far from his team. His body convulsed in waves, every muscle contracting and releasing in rhythms he had no control over.
His acupoints burned as if molten metal was being poured through them. Throbbing, the spiritual energy inside them churning violently as his body tried to readjust to its natural limits after operating so far beyond them.
His vision blurred. Cleared. Blurred again. The ceiling above him swam in and out of focus like a reflection in disturbed water.
Mirage stood over him, his large white body blocking the light from the crystals above. The horse's ears were flat against his head. His eyes were wide, darting between Moon's trembling body and the corridor behind them. Every few seconds, a low, distressed neigh escaped his throat.
It was the first time he had been under such a predicament, Mirage didn't know what to do.
