Mistforms

 He slowly bent, picked up the ball, and turned around.  What he saw was like a scene from a storybook, A huge black beast looming over Azaliea, fangs barred.  An ethereal mist skittered and danced at the edge of his vision, and the Roschnaak stared at him, particularly at what he held in his hand.
 If such inhuman eyes could be judged by a human, Eyrim would have thought they possessed the look of something that knew it was about to die.  Ironic, somehow, in a position of supremacy that a beast would look scared, for a second Eyrim thought that it could see the stored energy, 'impossible.'  And so they stood, each looking at the other, waiting for the next move, It reminded Eyrim of his first encounter, a standoff, but no.  This beast was hungry, not up for a battle, up for a hunt.  Suddenly Eyrim's fear turned to anger and he released the energy he had stored, directed entirely at the Roschnaak.
 A thunderous boom echoed across the valley, and at the same time the projectile; one that would have impaled anything else, and the tree behind it, struck the Roschnaak.  Eyrim watched with angry eyes, and saw what no other eyes could see, the raw energy spread across the entire Roschnaak, 'It possesses my own gift,' Eyrim realized.  For almost a second the energy flowed across the armor of the creature, but it's capacity for absorption was limited and the thing was hurled back into the mist, with a low pitched moan.
 Azaliea was the first up, sword drawn and alert, shortly followed by Afkin.  The rest were stumbling around, groggy and confused.  "What was it?"  Azaliea asked.
 "Roschnaak."  Eyrim said, hatred still lingered in his voice.
 "He will be back with more if we don't catch him," Darren said with certainty which he should not possess.
 Eyrim didn't want to wait for a decision, and began bounding into the mist, followed by only Azaliea, the others just yelled and told them not to leave.
 Azaliea ran a pace behind Eyrim, uncertain he knew where he was going, but certain she wasn't going to let that thing get away.  They came upon a jumbled mess of a beast, both legs bent in ways that Azaliea was not certain they should bend, and it's head, usually suspended between the knees, looked like it had a giant coin smash it.  The tail flopped and convulsed, she almost felt sorry for it, but apparently Eyrim viewed things differently.  He unsheathed his dagger,  and plunged it through the thing's operational eyeball, causing the tail to give one final twitch, and lay still.
 "I've seen something like this before," Azaliea said softly, they both stood there, in a sort of daze.
 "It tried to kill you while you were asleep."  Eyrim said in a monotone voice, suddenly sleepy.
 Azaliea leaned over, kissed him on the cheek, and trotted back to camp, shortly followed by Eyrim, both of them oblivious to the unseen eyes hidden in the mist, "your time will come, Chosen," The watcher whispered to itself, "your time will come."