There it was again, that scratching feeling in my eyes. Opening them is worse. I close them again and wipe a hand across my face. Shards of rubble fall from my skin, I rub my fingertips together, it does not crumble. Concrete. I drop my hand to my side and feel around me, a few books, some parchment, and large blocks of rock. I remember now, the lower catacombs of the tower where I was studying? Had I misfired that badly? Drawing in a slow breath I cast the spell that would teleport me back to the Church of Destruction. Nothing Happened. Clasping the insignia I wore I used the magical telepathic link to speak to my brethren, before I had finished, my words had died off, there was no point, the link did not work. The church was gone. It was time to determine who was left, who was in control, and just what exactly had happened. But first, to rub this crap out of my eyes!
To be continued.
