|Ability||Dispel an enemy minion nearby your General.|
Dispel an enemy minion nearby your General.
Patch 1.74 - Card text changed from "Dispel an enemy minion." to "Dispel an enemy minion nearby your General."
She was buried in silver alloy sand up to her chin, her jaw jittering back and forth as it worked to grind nothing to nothing. Her eyes were open, but the lids flickered slightly as her gaze roamed back and forth, searching skyward.
Three faint lines of prismatic light intersected to a point on her forehead, filtering through from above as the domed ceiling separated into six segments, drawing up and out, then sliding down around the edge. Her crown of light grew larger, expanding past her glass chamber.
She blinked, squinting in the sunlight. She was suspended in the sky. No. Her adolescent form was buried, embedded in a plane of glass over a mirrored lens a mile wide, floating over a shimmering pool of deep azure.
With the dome fully retracted, whispered breaths of sand tumbled into the lens and onto the glass, the finest grains carried far enough to seep into her nose. She whipped her head back and forth in the gust, catching the sun’s morning reflection long enough to see ghostly afterimages.
The light did not waver. As the sun climbed higher, the lens tilted to continue to blind and burn. Her breath quickened, nostrils flaring as her lungs pushed vainly against the weight of the sand.
For every heave of her small chest, the heat settled closer. High above, the sun stared down. Below, the mirror brought a field of fire to bear on its focus.
She took a shallow gasp. Another. The heat was no longer without but within. It needed no master, no order. It needed a goal. She sank into the sand.
Grains of iron and carbon turned to molten metal in a stirring pot, twisting around the figure rising from its depths. She stepped lightly onto the glass, skinned in steel. The Rite of Melding.