((Leaving the description of what the black thing feels like to you, Tirael. I have a headache and so it's hard to describe things))<br/><br/>Diarah looked at the man warily when he raised his fist, unsure as to his intentions, but for the moment doing nothing. She released an involuntary shiver at the sudden temperature drop in the room, and she was unable to take her eyes off the man's hand and it's shivering, shaking veins as they pulsed and distorted the air around the man's fist. Then she felt the pressure in the room begin to build, as if four walls of air were slowly closing in, drawing all the oxygen away from the room and leaving only that bone-crushing pressure. When it raced away from her and Diarah felt it surge towards the man's hand, she let out a gasp, watching with a sick fascination as the man seemed to wither; seemed to drain himself of his power and age before her very eyes. A small smile appeared on her features at that before she could stop it. She left it there for the moment.<br/><br/><i>Accept his blessing and share in his power? For now.</i>That black mass that was created, hovering over his hand; that whirling, spinning, entrancing black aura seemed to draw the young girl in, and before she knew it she was extending her hand towards it, ever so slowly, inching forwards surely but hesitantly, as if the aura of blackness was reverent and sacred. Then, when her finger tips touched the darkness, what she thought would happen in fact did not. Instead of something magical and explosive as she'd thought, Diarah's hand simply sunk in to the darkness. But something was happening. She could feel it. She wasn't sure what it was, but it felt as if the darkness was being absorbed in to her...<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>