“Kyli,” Naya screamed, “Go get my brother!” Kyli ran from the room as Naya was hoisted off the floor by an invisible force and slammed into the right wall.
“Naya!” Naya craned her neck, a task made difficult by the psychomancer’s telekinetic magic, to see her brother standing where she had a moment ago, accompanied by Kyli and their friend Seran.
“A bit late, is it not?” the psychomancer’s voice rang.
Naya watched, horrorstruck, as her brother unsheathed his sword and lunged at the psychomancer, only to be knocked aside and flattened against the left wall.
Naya closed her eyes. She didn’t want to look. She wouldn’t — couldn’t.
The howl jolted Naya’s eyes open. In the aftermath her brother had left, Kyli and Seran had double teamed the psychomancer and held him pinned against the far wall. Naya fell to the ground, the magic holding her no longer focused.
“Finally, it ends, sorcerer,” Kyli’s voice rang in the sudden silence.