The spell dissipates too quickly, and he doesn't have the strength or ability to lift his head or even figure out if it worked. His hand is clenched tightly at his neck, but he can't figure out if that's what's stopping his ability to breathe or the fact that the blood is still coming through too strongly. He can't even feel it, a few moments later. He can't feel most of him, and he coughs once before it's over.

This isn't the first time, thankfully so, that Taako's died. He remembers the more recent ones more vividly; the sensation of being crushed in a cave-in, fire consuming his entire body and the pain lasting only seconds, the ground giving out from under him and falling, falling, unsure of if he hits anything below before it's over. But it's the slow ones like this, that do it. The ones where he can feel it.

He wakes up coughing, gripping his own neck so hard he can see the imprint of his thumb the next morning. But it doesn't matter. He's died plenty.

Just another day.