Sydney's vision continues to fade and blink, trying to muster the energy at the bright glimmering invocations along the cage.  She attempts to pull, attempts to drag and twist the cage, but it is as if her magical energy lacks strength, spent and tired.  Reality crackles continue to flick through the air, a sharp sulfurous smell beginning to fill the chamber as one crack lets in black mist for a moment, blocking sight dimming even the flickering sputtering light from the torches along the walls.<br/><br/>As Sydney's hand falls, she feels something inside of her, much like the lust she would normally pull from, but different somehow.  A deep well of power in her consciousness, something new that she has not tapped before.  Her mind traces the pooled water and she feels a slick, sticky blackness, something that just with a brush she can feel she could push through to the magical essence beneath.  This isn't like the heat and vibrancy of her lust magic, this is something colder, something equally old.<br/><br/>There is no power of lust for her to pull on, but this perhaps...<br/><br/>But the stones continue to fall, cracking, smashing, breaking rock as the dragon hurls it's body against the cage.<br/><br/><strong>Delvers, what do you do?</strong>