Emet-Selch flinches from the light. He shades his eyes too late. The world flashes shades of white and the mage fumbles for the nearest wall, using it as an anchor to reorient himself.

"I'll kill you, boy," he spits out furiously. It's not that he hates bright lights specifically...but that the flash has sparked an old, hated memory. One that he still struggles to move past (and is, frankly, not inclined to whilst under another's influence).

He throws out elemental magic haphazardly now, more to defend himself until his vision is restored than with any kind of aim. Fire, borne by the wind, roars through the air; the earth cracks and boulders toss themselves wildly.