He's sobbing and his magic is starting to get away from him, he's never had the best control over it. He just wants it to stop. Gods, why won't it stop? He's lost all sense of time, it's like he's back with the fey, training. The timeless unending force of it all. He can hear them in his mind. You have to learn to kill. It won't stop until you kill.

"I'm sorry... gods I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." he sobs as he lets himself go, drawing the magic, and pushing it away from him, leaving a clear path for him to move, before his swords flash, slicing into Lorac. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."