Brian Rathbone - The Dawning of Power

"Then the attack on the Westland could not have been committed by the Herald," Rolph bellowed triumphantly.

"How could you know such a thing?" Archmaster Belegra asked, clearly confident that Rolph would only prove himself witless, but Rolph's response stirred the frightened crowd into frenzy.

"I know this for certain, since the Herald of Istra stands before you," he said, and Catrin leaned heavily on Benjin as Rolph's eyes turned to her. "In a wedding dress."

Death, like life, is part of the natural cycle. To fear one is to devalue the other. -Manul Praska, shaman

Time slowed and Catrin swung her head in a wide arc, taking in every detail as she spun. All eyes were on her, and she felt every stare acutely, especially those from within the hoods of the men surrounding Archmaster Belegra. Hostile energies gathered there, making ready the attack, and Catrin was jolted by the recognition of one.

Prios.

The pattern of his energy was unmistakable, and she sensed his recognition of her even without being able to see his face. He gave no outward sign save a small twitch of his hood. But then her gaze moved to the very close face of her betrothed. His eyes were filled with rage, and his aura reached out for her like fingers of flame. For a moment, time accelerated; then he was leaping for her throat with deadly quickness.

Instinct drove her, and the heady abundance of energy she'd been absorbing made her off-balance parry a massive blow that sent him tumbling through the air. Even as he spiraled into a crowd of those attempting to flee, she wondered at the fact that she didn't even know his name, this Kyte whelp, and she wondered if it wouldn't soon be a name she'd wish to forget. For the moment, though, he'd pose no more threat; his limp form was dragged from the field by his guards. The flesh of her neck and throat stung, and when she ran her hand over it, it came away covered with blood. Had he raked her flesh without ever touching her? She wondered at that, but her attention was required to stay alive, and the world rushed around her again.

Her momentum carried her, and she found herself facing Benjin, who tossed her staff into the air between them. Catrin leaped to meet it halfway and caught it deftly. She rolled over it and sprang into a fighting stance only to find no one between her and the statue. One man moved to bar her path, but his eyes bulged, affixed to the heel of her staff, and he fled. She risked a quick glance at her staff. The serpent head stood out in bold relief, outlined by pulses of liquid energy, and, for the first time, the true nature of the serpent was revealed. Tendrils of liquid fire clearly showed the outlines of wings, but Catrin could look upon it no more. The noonstone eyes shone bright white, and blue spheres obscured her vision long after she looked away from the blinding glare.

The comet above seemed likely to destroy them all as it moved in front of the sun and was spectacularly backlit during the eclipse. Deep shades of purple and amber rolled away from the massive sphere of ice, and a towering cloud of vapor trailed behind it. The air sang like an anvil rung by a thousand hammers, accompanied by the monotonous thundering that threatened to vibrate everything into oblivion.

So quickly did Catrin propel herself to the statue that she had to let her body catch up. The thrumming air seemed to suspend her flesh, and her spirit barely clung to it. Her hands fumbled as they gripped the staff and prepared for impact. With all the force she could muster, she struck the glowing base of the statue. The energy trapped within pealed and flowed through the staff, through Catrin, and into the land itself. She could do nothing to stop it. Every muscle in her body contracted, and her face contorted in a twisted rictus.

Immediately she realized her mistake. The statue contained a small but highly charged core of noonstone opposite some other type of stone she did not recognize, one that stored a massive negative charge. Only a thin layer of dense metal separated the two charges. If that insulating barrier broke down, the resulting chain reaction would be monstrous, just as the one in the Westland had been. The explosion would be felt all the way in Endland, which seemed almost unfathomable to Catrin, having struggled to cross the massive expanse.

The men rushing toward her and those with bows drawn compounded her problems. Missiles were already on their way to meet her when she flung energy about her for protection. An angry sphere of red and lightning formed a shield around her. Arrows and spears burst into flames as they struck the wall of plasma, falling away harmlessly. But Catrin's resolve nearly faltered when men dived upon her sphere, hurling themselves against her energy flow. She felt their energy clash with hers and their spirits released by the impact. Each one was like a knife to her heart, and she wept.

"Please stop! I cannot keep you safe if you attack me. The energy has me trapped. Please stop! Please," she wailed, but Belegra urged more men to assault her defenses. He showed no regard for human life as he chided those who would preserve themselves. Those who stood around him, those hidden within the depths of their robes, seemed compelled into action. Each had access to Istra's power, but they were bound by Archmaster Belegra's will-slaves. As the archmaster moved his arms in wild and rigid gestures, the robed figures attacked without moving.

Hot, fetid rays of adulterated power emanated from them. Each of the energies merged with the others and was orchestrated by Archmaster Belegra. Somehow, he exerted nearly total control over these men, with the exception of Prios, who was clever. His energy separated itself once beyond Archmaster Belegra's field of influence and only brushed across the surface of Catrin's sphere, whispering to her, over and over again.

"You gave me a name. You gave me power."

Archmaster Belegra was completely consumed in his machinations and seemed unaware of the communication between Prios and Catrin. The remaining mixture of energies, however, slammed into her sphere, and she reeled. The impact was worse than the time she had been kicked in the chest by a plow horse, and she wondered if her ribs were broken. Archmaster Belegra continued to pummel her with the twisted energies, but it became obvious he would not be able to do so much longer. His breathing was ragged, and beads of sweat raced down his mottled flesh.

Without so much as a twitch, Catrin sensed Prios separate himself from the twisted flow completely, and he lashed out at Archmaster Belegra. Like a striking snake, a thread of energy arced between them, and they both collapsed. The others swayed on their feet as the compulsion ended abruptly, and two fell to their knees, leaving only two standing.

Catrin took advantage of the respite and desperately reached into the statue, casting her senses over the deadly charges. There seemed an impossible amount of energy still trapped within, considering what had already been released, and she despaired. At the rate it was draining, it would take days if not weeks to deplete, and the insulating barrier was rapidly breaking down. It writhed and bubbled, boiling. Desperate, she tried to draw the scorching heat out of the core. Slowly the barrier cooled to a near-solid state, though the ground around Catrin's feet caught fire.

With the insulator stabilized, she returned her efforts to draining the excessive energy stored in the noonstone core. After the initial shock, she became desensitized to the massive energy flow, and though she felt as if she were slowly melting away, she could control herself and the flow of energy much better.

"Good people of the Greatland, flee!" she shouted. "I fear the statue will explode no matter what I do, get as far away as you can. I'll hold it as long as I am able."