Just as Ayariel was to attempt her attack, her heart suddenly felt a jolt of regret that would not be denied. She flicked her wrists again, drawing back in the blades before they were to strike anyone. The priests looked at her with an espression of mild insult,  and one of them frowned quite deeply as he waved his hand, muttering another spell of unknown effects. At that, the priests continued their work, painting over the blood mage's scars; the chemical was not only agonizing, but Mirnea would also be able to feel the magic being sapped from her markings, draining them of their potency.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>