Stabbed by magical knives

“And you die,” she said casually, almost yawning as she took the Book for herself. Motes of magic formed about her, fashioning themselves into eldritch knives.

My legs gave out. I dropped to my knees; they splashed into a thin pool of my own blood that was becoming saturated with pink. My lungs were burning. My head throbbing harder.

I didn’t care. (Be Unwavering!) I focused on that skull with its long, slender horn.

The host of magical knives darted through the air at their target.

Nightseer glanced downward as she felt her necklace shift. With a telekinetic thrust, I drove Luna’s horn through the soft tissue under Nightseer’s muzzle and up into her brain.

She twitched once, the spark of life remaining in her just long enough for her eldritch knives to strike home. Most evaporated against my new barding, but several sunk in deep before vanishing along with Nightseer’s shield spell as the alicorn crumpled to the ground.