Another excerpt, re: mortality.

     “My magic comes from within me, and so is limited. Azzie can draw upon anything at hand, the energies of the Worlds, the Hells, in addition to his latent gifts. Also, I’m not truly immortal.”
     “He said something like that. I just assumed he was being an asshole.”
     “I won’t die of old age, or disease. However, I can be killed.”
     “But…”
     “I can be slain as easily as you, if taken unaware.”
     “Az can’t?”
     “His material form can be destroyed. The body you see is a shell; it houses his godhead, which is pure energy. That body can be slain.”
     Frank chewed his lower lip. He still didn’t quite understand, and he regretted his plan to keep Sun talking. Troubled by thoughts of mortality, the dragonlord was as low as ever.
     There’s irony. Kind, gentle Sun can die, while Azzie can theoretically go on making people miserable forever.
     “I hate to hash this again,” he said at last, “but if he can’t die, what was the big deal in Zhialliandior? I released him ‘cause I thought the Elves would kill him.”
     “A god cannot walk the Worlds without a physical form. Their energy must be contained, lest it destroy everything in its path. If the body is slain, the godhead returns to its plane of origin.”
     “His energy…would go back to Hell?”
     Sun nodded. “He would have to reform another body. With demons, it’s twice as tricky, since they like to wreak havoc among mortals. They usually have to be summoned back as well, although since Random brought him through initially, I doubt that would hold true for Az.”
     “Reforming a body, that takes a while?”
     “Long enough for a considerable delay. Also, keep in mind his attitude. I wasn’t too sure he’d bother to return. He doesn’t want to be here.”
     “Yeah, he’s made that clear as crystal.”
     “I don’t want to be here, either.” Sun stretched out on his back, hands folded beneath his head. “I can’t, Frank. I can’t kill my sister.”

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