Brian Rathbone: Inherited Danger

Before her, the statue glowed so brightly that it was blinding, and beyond it, the remnants of the crowd parted like the sea before the hull of a fast ship. Catrin barely heard the howling that split the air, but she saw an enraged bull of a man charging the statue.

"Do not despair, heart of the land! I've come for you," he bellowed, and Catrin recognized him at last.

Barabas.

"Abomination, be gone!" he roared as he closed the gap, and Catrin drifted closer to her body, intrigued.

Barabas struck the statue at a full run, and the arena was rocked with the concussion. The Statue of Terhilian trembled on its base, and Catrin felt Barabas as he was freed from his body. His spirit sang as it blasted free, knowing his sacrifice had not been in vain.

Some force moved Catrin's ephemeral spirit, and she slammed back into her body. Though she felt as if a part of her were lost, she became, once again, constrained by her physical form just as it hit the ground, and her breath whooshed from her lungs.

The statue was no longer a viable weapon. Barabas had done that which Catrin had not thought to do. Rather than deplete the positive charge, he had neutralized the negative charge by hitting it with his own positive energy. The noonstone core still stored a tremendous charge, but the reactive agent was gone.

An ear-shattering crack brought her out of her stupor. The Statue of Terhilian split down its center. Istra and Vestra were parted from their eternal embrace and sent crashing to the ground. Large pieces fractured into smaller sections, and it rained stone. Rough hands grabbed Catrin by the back of her dress and dragged her away from the disintegrating leviathan. She floundered, her limbs leaden and unwilling to respond to her command, and she let the darkness claim her.

Before she drifted into oblivion, a warm and bright spirit visited her, and Barabas spoke one last time before he departed the world of the living.

"Be strong, heart of the land. Your work is not yet done."

Hunching his shoulders over the massive crystal he carried, Prios struggled to keep his grip. Heavy and slick, the ebony stone's sharp edges bit into his hands, but he made no complaint. He'd spoken out once, when he was younger, and Archmaster Belegra had ordered his tongue cut out. Even deprived of speech, he could communicate well enough with those sensitive to Istra's power. Archmaster Belegra and the others of the cadre had little difficulty understanding the mental images he sent them, and Catrin had understood him even when their bodies had been leagues apart. It was the memory of her that kept him going.

She gave me a name. She gave me power.

It was his mantra, and he repeated it to himself over and over. Prios. She had named him Prios. The name gave him pride, and he built his identity around it. He was no longer a nameless slave child, powerless and weak. He was Prios, and he was the master of his own destiny.

After the destruction of the statue, he had expected to be killed for his betrayals, but the archmaster acted as if he were unaware. Prios still couldn't believe it, though, and he dreaded the moment when Archmaster Belegra unleashed his fury. Surely he was not so blind that he hadn't noticed. Even if he were truly ignorant, what of the other members of the cadre? How long until one of them revealed his deceit? They had no reason to love him, yet they, too, had reason to hate Belegra. He had enslaved them all and used them without mercy. Prios could not know if the others were aware of his actions or if they would remain silent, and his life hung from the thinnest thread. All he could do was move on and hope for the day he would be reunited with Catrin. His dreams were full of her, and the thought of joining her was like a beacon in the darkness. It guided him forward and kept him from despairing.

Nearly losing his footing on the slippery gangplank, he thought a moment about letting himself fall into the dark waters, taking the precious crystal with him. It was so tempting. He would be free of his bonds at last, freed from the cruelty of his existence. Again, a vision of Catrin came to his mind. She glowed so brightly, and she lured him, just as the scent of roses draws the honeybee. She was brave and powerful, beautiful yet humble. He drew strength from her and climbed aboard the ship determined to find her. He would join her, and together they would be free.

She gave me a name. She gave me power. And, one day, I will be free.