Aspel/Ari/Jareth/Kiernan
She saw Aspel take a spell to her side in defense of Kiernan, but she could hardly focus long enough to feel concern. In some ways, this battle was one of the most difficult Ari had ever faced. She was fighting not only the shambling corpses but also a voice inside her own head, which was all but drowning out the methodical progressions of chords and notes on which she needed to concentrate. She could choose to sing, or she could choose to react; Aspel stood, seemingly quite able to go on, and Ari chose to sing, trusting in the others to keep her safe until the threat was vanquished.
Foolish hume-child, I can-
Putain, no!
The undead were still falling to her song, stopping in their tracks and swaying before they toppled. The mage that had tossed what seemed a concentrated ball of darkness at Aspel went down. The song was her best offense, she knew, but she was entirely too focused on singing it, like an apprentice faced with her first confrontation, unable to even maintain her vigilance of her surroundings.
Which was how she missed it, the slow but steady advance of the desiccated body of what had once been a warrior; she smelled him before she saw him, tried to duck, took an awkward blow across her cheek with his shield, a slice of his rusty sword across her ribs. Ifrit roared, and she thought she screamed, but she could barely hear herself think as she stumbled back, trying to sing faster, knowing that she had no chance to get to a dagger in time to do any good, hoping only that the song would take this one as it had taken so many others.