fidelacchius burn

My clarity withered before that light, before the star-bright blaze of pain in my left arm. I had to shield my eyes against the light of the Sword with my right hand, though the mere movement caused me pain enough to threaten the contents of my stomach.
The stench of my own charred flesh filled my nose, somehow laced with the scent of sulfur, brimstone. There was a blazon of blackened flesh along my left forearm, starting just above my shield bracelet and running to my elbow, straight as a ruler.
I fell to my knees.
I dropped to my right elbow, cradling the burned flesh against me.
The scream of pure pain that came out of me wasn’t loud. It was hardly human.

Battle Ground Chapter 23, Page 212


Sanya had broken my nose for me, I realized. Not that I hadn’t earned considerably worse. Sobbing hysterically with a broken nose isn’t real dignified. Or practical, for activities like breathing. It took me half a minute of coughing and spitting to get things cleared up. By the time I had, and had swiped at my eyes with a cleanish portion of my coat’s sleeves, the burn of my broken nose and the aches and pains had once more faded beneath the staticky curtain of the Winter mantle.
Except for the burn on my arm.
That one hurt. Period.
I’d dealt with burns before. This one wasn’t the worst I’d ever gotten. Even so, it throbbed and pulsed and made me feel a little queasy and shaky.
And it made me feel . . . human.

Battle Ground Chapter 24, Page 216


Silently, she reached out and took my left arm. She pushed the sleeve of my duster up, despite my discomfort, and studied the burn for a moment. Then she said, with a slow, quiet, ever so slightly jealous tone, “That must hurt.”
“It does,” I said.
She closed her eyes for a moment and took a breath.
When she opened them, it was all business again. “Can you fight?”
“Watch me.”
“I shall,” she said. “And you shall see something the world has not seen in many a year.”

Battle Ground Chapter 24, Page 219