The full reality of the situation came tumbling down on Malthael, then. Messōrēs or not, Raamiel was still a Reaper in some fashion, and he had no idea what to do with one who was half-turned into a feral monstrosity. Everything had spiraled dangerously out of his control.
“Too much sound...”
Oh, but he knew that feeling. Knew it all too well, uncomfortably, maddeningly so.
“Coursing?” He hissed at Tobias, annoyed at wasting valuable moments clarifying something that seemed critical. “What is that? How do we do it?”
“Return… where?” The Maiden’s soul rang like a bell, washing over him and raising the hairs on his arms and neck. The ache it carried with it nearly doubled him over the way she had.
--yourfaultyourfaultallyourfault--
Focus. He had to focus. He could solve this. He hadn’t known. But, he could know.
“We should lure her back to the portal. Maybe--maybe if you give her a destination, she’ll follow without much--”
“Toobiaass?”
“Yes, aunt Raami? I’m here… don’t worry…!”
“Prisca’s little morselll…”
Bad tone. Not good. Portal -- very good. People with knowledge, there. Tire her out. Make her chase. Get her away from Tristram, and all the other little morsels she would try and find and rip their souls out--
“Aquincum!” Malthael growled furiously, as he sprinted past the Maiden in the direction Tobias had come from. “Return to Aquincum! This way!”
Every step jarred his shoulder, causing the already forming crust on it to break open and bleed anew. As he ran, he intentionally flicked some of the blood from it, spattering it against tree trunks and bushes -- leaving behind detectable fragments of his essence.
If she wanted something to chew on, she could damn well try and catch him. With some luck, she would follow the trail.
