A beat later, Maxwell moved to follow her, intent on finding the others if he could, or at least in falling in back to wait for them if he couldn't. But he rounded the corner of the house-- and stopped.

He'd been in battle. Had witnessed dueling mages. Had even been aware that besides his fellow Thedosians many tributes had abilities and magicks of their own, even if they didn't call them such.

But none of that really prepared him for his first, unleashed Cornucopia.

For a moment he could only stare, eyes trying to keep with the action, trying to pick out familiar faces - bodies - the chaotic field. That fireball, was that Dorian? That arc of lightning, could that have been Adella?

Then he spotted the lights. The unnatural flames, among so many others, floating above the chaos. A blaze to match the one below as the great stake smoldered, he thought at first, but then he noticed the way they split. The way they moved.

Followed, as one combatant, then another, fled from the field.

Looking up, he spotted his own, and he moved back around the corner, a hand gripping at the flimsy wall in guidance as he watched as the fire followed, the flames flickering merrily like some strange pet.

Markers. Why he couldn't say, but that was surely what they were.