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Chapter 42 - Calling light

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Kiarae’s eyes flickered open, and with them, the last of the energy keeping Tayne upright dissolved.

He slumped sidewards, unable to hold his head up. The sudden drop was too much to handle. Two hours sleep on the hard group while pursuing a missing Sentinel, even combined with the Silverborn blessing was not enough to compensate for what he’d lost in the last few days.

Tayne fought to keep his eyes open. He willed himself to stay awake, at least until Kiarae could stand.

Then... then he could sleep.

Kiarae awoke quickly and gracefully repositioned herself on her shins. She held the sides of her head with open hands, threading fingers through her silvery hair and closing her eyes in concentration. Tayne wanted to tell her to hurry, that there wasn’t any time, but his lips refused to move and form the words.

He watched her in silence. His eyes drifted to the silvery glow of Kiarae’s Sentinel mark on her upper arm. It was the same as Skye’s; a rotated ‘3’ that glittered with magic except where Skye’s had a flower, a shimmering moon was nestled in the indent.

It pulsated silver, drawing in the fractured light from her hair. Every time the mark seemed to grow brighter, it flickered and faded to a dull glow. As he watched, the light died once more, but this time it didn’t come back.

Kiarae made a frustrated growl from the back of her throat. Her brows drew together and she opened her eyes. Her gaze shifted to meet Tayne’s. The anger melted, replaced by concern.

She grasped his shoulders, digging her fingers in. The feeling spiked a moment of clarity in Tayne’s mind, but it quickly retreated back into blurred vision.

 “Deities be damned,” she said. “Stay with me, Tayne.” Her grey eyes lifted and focussed on something in the distance. “Resist the Citadel’s pull, Silverborn. Fight.”

Kiarae raised her hands, palm facing away from her. Her lips tightened into a thin line as she closed her fingers around something Tayne couldn’t see and pulled. The slender muscles in her arms flexed from the effort, but to him, it looked as if she were pulling on air.

Eyes sore and threatening to close, Tayne made the mistake of blinking.

Letting the muscles relax was bliss. His head sank further into his neck, and it was only when his cheek pressed against something flat, cold and hard that he struggled against the heaviness weighing him down.

“Silverborn, wake! Skye requires your aid, do not fail her!”

Kiarae’s voice drifted through his mind and he latched onto it for all he was worth. He clung to the words, using them to find his way out of the sleepy fog clouding his mind.

His eyes cracked open, and the sight caused them to widen further in surprise. 

A long, silver shaft with thousands of intricate grey lines woven around its surface had solidified into Kiarae’s waiting grasp. At the far end, a half moon shimmered into existence. A crystal coalesced between its two curved points and blossomed with a bright light which ran down and encased the entire head and body of what Tayne realised now to be a staff.

Kiarae stood. Her dress, though ripped and torn around the edges remained modest and regal around her slim frame. She kissed the glowing crystal and lowered it to rest on Tayne’s head.

She was standing and strong. Tayne felt his control slip, his consciousness kept afloat only by the warmth of Kiarae’s staff.

Her words ran through his mind. Infuse the Silverborn, light of Taldorei. Bless him and heal his injuries.

For the second time, a silver aura steadied Tayne. His heart beat faster in his chest and it was no longer difficult to breathe. His limbs ceased to shake as the light caressed his skin and replenished the energy Kiarae had used and more.

Kiarae leant down and pulled him away from the wall. “I have returned what I borrowed. I apologise, I did not realise it would affect you so,” she said.

She offered him a hand, which he took. Her odd way of speaking caught him off guard. She sounded like Wrain.

“It’s okay,” he said. He started to get to his feet. “I just--“ Tayne swayed on his feet, leaning on the wall once more for support.

“What is it? Did I not give enough back?” asked Kiarae.

Tayne shook his head, slowly. “No, it’s not that. I lost a lot of blood when I fought the Hunter. My leg is nearly useless, and...” He forced himself to admit something. “I... don’t think I can walk on it anymore.”

“Let me see.” Kiarae knelt down, her hand hovering near his bandaged leg. She flicked her wrist a few times before muttering under her breath. “This will be difficult. Anton has severed me from my magic with that damned blade of his.” Her fingers worked to undo the bandage around his calf.

Alarm shot through Tayne. “What do you mean? You used magic just before!”

Kiarae pursed her lips. The bandages removed, she placed her hand over the leaking wound. “It was not my own. Taldorei’s light stores energy but it is wild and unpredictable until I take control of it. My capacity for holding ether is currently damaged and it appears to be affecting my control, but hopefully... this should work.”

“Hopefully?”

“There is the chance it will explode you from the inside out, but I believe it will resonate with the magic already within you,” she said.

“Because you used it on me then?” asked Tayne.

Kiarae shook her head, her fingers finding their way to the crystal in the head of her staff. “Taldorei’s light was the weapon wielded by the first celestial Sentinel and channelled the power of the deity into the chalice you use in your trial of soul to bless the worthy. It is the original focal point of what you call the Silverborn blessing.”

With one hand wrapped around the crystal and the other on his leg, Kiarae closed her eyes. Tayne felt the power enter through her hand and course around his body. His fingers prickled uncomfortably, and his feet soon followed. When Kiarae removed her hand, Tayne’s vision was once more edged with silver and his body tingled with every beat of his heart.

“It infused your blood with magic and your leg should hold... although I am not quite sure what the staff has done,” she said after a moment examining her work. “It appears tha--“

She stiffened. Her head jerked to glance down the corridor, her eyes searching the darkness. “Did you sense that?”

Tayne’s sword was in his hand. Its silver sheen had returned, brighter than before.

“Sense what? Tainted? The Master?”

Kiarae took her staff with a second hand. “No, it was almost like...”

A torrent of emerald magic hit them, knocking them back several paces and wrapping around Tayne’s body before gusting off to follow the rest, leaving tiny flowers and leaves fluttering to the ground. Tayne picked one off his shoulder, caressing the velvet petals with his thumb. It sent a cold shiver through him as he realised what it meant.

“No, no no no! The deity!” Kiarae swore under her breath and ripped the side of her dress up to her thigh. “We need to get to her. She cannot hide the name from him, not yet. The nature element is in danger if he is allowed to use it!”

She started forward and Tayne ran after her.

“The deity? How does this affect the deity?” he asked.

Kiarae didn’t look back as she replied. “The only way Skye could have access to that much energy is if the nature deity itself revealed its true name to her. To invoke it, one must only mentally call upon it -- but I have not taught her how to mind-speak correctly yet, so the only way she would use it...”

“Is by saying it out loud,” finished Tayne. “And if she needed to do that, it means something very, very bad has happened.”

“I fear the worst. Kumos found many secrets within the corruption and I see no reason why Anton would not have done the same. I fear he means to strike at the heart of magic itself. That cannot happen. He cannot fell another deity to the corruption, else this war is over,” said Kiarae.

She didn’t have to say it out loud for the implication to be clear.

If the nature deity fell, Skye would fall with it.

Tayne ran harder, pumping his legs and praying that they wouldn’t be too late.

*+*+*+*

Skye extended her hand. Green light flashed from her palm and struck the tainted square in the chest. It wasn’t enough to kill it, it seemed nothing purely magical could, but it sent the demon sprawling backwards and convulsing on the floor.

The other tainted beneath her bucked, trying to shake her grip. Her eagle flared behind her, steadying her as she lost her balance, feet slipping from its back to leave only her fingers curled around the edge of its armoured shoulder plate.

Skye grit her teeth and pulled herself closer, driving her dagger into the back of the demon’s neck. The struggling stopped. She released her hold on its body and it crashed to join the other five littering the floor. They weren’t a challenge, meant nothing more than to slow her down.

“Coward!” she yelled into the ever twisting corridors the Citadel had to offer. “Face me like a Sentinel, Anton!”

She gripped her sword tighter, eyes searching the darkness. He could hear her. She knew he could. The Citadel was his domain; it was stupid to think for a moment that he hadn’t known exactly where she and the Silverborn were the entire time. And if he wasn’t here...

Skye shouted louder. She had to draw him out. “Do you remember your words the first time we met, how you said you had eternity to hide if you wished? Will this be the beginning of your eternity as prey, Master?”

A hissing noise pricked her ears. Listening to instinct, Skye relaxed and dropped. Something sliced the air above her. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. Could it be the Master?

She landed lightly on the ground and turned to find the tainted she’d knocked back curling its tail in preparation for a second lash.

With a growl, Skye pulled her dagger free of the dead tainted and charged.

The last tainted’s tail rushed up to meet her, and Skye had no intention of getting out of the way. She didn’t have time. She had to find the Master, stop him, and find Tayne. She condensed her magic, calling it around her and met the lashing tail head on with a shield of light.

It shattered on impact, sending a shower of emerald sparks fizzling off into the Naclictite floor. The dissipating cloud seemed to daze the tainted and she rushed forward. It saw her coming but was helpless to act as she pushed off the ground and sprang towards it. The eagle flapped behind her once, twice, giving her the boost she needed to land on the demon’s head and drive her sword in behind its skull.

“That’s for thinking you can get the better of me,” she muttered under her breath. It didn’t matter. Once a tainted’s hide was pierced, whatever foul magic it was that bound the tattered remains of a soul to the physical vessel dispersed.

Still, she watched as it fell, ensuring it was dead before retrieving her sword. The second one had almost impaled her with a horn in a post death spasm, her neck saved only by the instinctual discovery of the light shield.

As she pulled the blade from the body, her corruption marked shoulder clenched in pain. Skye took a deep breath. She’d come to almost welcome the mark. The longer the pain, the closer the Master was and the closer she was to finding Jesse. She just hoped she wouldn’t find Tayne with him.

Skye glanced around. Nothing moved. No more tainted or demons came at her, forming from the darkness. She moved tentatively forward, blades ready.

 “What, run out of minions to throw at me?” she said.

His reply wasn’t verbal, but it came all the same. The Naclictite beneath her glinted, and something about it changed. Its texture rippled under her feet, proving his point. The entire Citadel was his minion.

She no longer felt secure standing upon it.

She moved to where Wrain floated just off the ground, encased in the emerald light she hoped would protect him. A shudder ripped through the elder Silverborn's body, and his breathing hitched. 

Skye bit her lip. I have to do something.

She placed a hand on his chest, trying once more to heal the injury. Nothing happened. The magic refused to cooperate. The green sparks, the borrowed energy from the deity buzzed angrily in the air around her and she removed her hand with a curse.

Skye refused to move her hand. I need his knowledge. Let me heal him, damn you.

The Sentinels of old would never have questioned my judgement and neither shall you, replied the deity.

Skye kept staring at Wrain. The ‘Sentinels of old’ fell to the corruption

The one that questioned my judgement saw to that, said the deity. And now her soul remains scattered across the mortal realm, struggling to hold itself together. Is that what shall become of you?

The statement took Skye off guard. What? Her thoughts raced, Kiarae’s story flashing through her mind. Are you referring to Tyra?

 The deity didn’t reply to that, continuing on as if she hadn’t made it. There is nothing this Silverborn can do that you cannot.

Her fingers tightened on Wrain’s chest. He can--

I chose you as my guardian, my link to the mortal realm in this dire time and you shall not disrespect that decision.

There was an undertone to its words, one that Skye couldn’t ignore despite how much she wanted to be furious with the thing who was content to let her friend die.

The deity was scared.

Then you should have known that I won’t leave him to die before you chose me.

Do not argue. Find the shadow Sentinel. My name must not--

The deity halted, and something deep within Skye’s soul was touched by a spectral finger.

The eagle flickered behind her. Skye looked over her shoulder to see it vanish, pulled away by an invisible wind. 

Where did it go? she asked the deity.

It has begun. You must stop him. He means t--

Skye’s vision flashed, and when it returned she was no longer seeing with mortal eyes.

The Citadel and its walls vanished. A vast landscape spread before her, one untouched by mortal hands, something that could only be the Nether realm, where the deities resided and ether, magic, was created.

Magic shimmered in the air, swirling and shimmering as balls of multicoloured lights danced past her, all heading to a silver fog high in the air. Bright splotches of red, blue, green and purple blazed on the horizon, each their own sun about to pierce the darkness.

But amid the wondrous sight, there was chaos. The ether tied to nature was being dragged, slowly at first but faster the longer she looked and sucked into a darkened void to her right -- exactly where she’d figured the Master’s trail to go in the mortal realm.

Pain flared in her temples and Skye gripped her head, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. The ether condensed in her soul was restless, writhing around within her as the pull towards the void became stronger.

I will lend you what power I can spare. Do not waste it, Sentinel, else this realm is lost.

The deity’s words ringing in her mind, Skye wrenched herself back to her physical body. Her breath came fast, panting like she’d not drawn sufficient air in minutes.

What in the nether was that?

She found herself on her knees with both blades resting in her slackened grip. Wrain lay before her, but the blanket of magic protecting him was gone.

Skye closed her eyes, searching her soul for the deity whose presence she could no longer feel. Her magic writhed inside her, creating an uncomfortable sensation.

Something was very, very wrong.

Her shoulder burned more than before, despite the fact she hadn’t moved. It meant either the Master was moving towards her, or the corruption’s presence was stronger than it had been. Her fingers reached up to touch the disfigured flesh, the pads of her fingers tracing the outline of the Master’s hand on her skin.

Then they slid down, resting over the Sentinel mark on her arm. Steady green light filtered through her fingers. How had she come to this? How had she gone from elf that was blamed for betraying her home to the Sentinel who had the fate of a deity resting on her actions?

She clenched her arm, almost relishing the pain. Was she supposed to jump at the deity’s every command because it simply told she her to? Would she fight to protect people in Alguarde who would watch on while a woman bled out on the filthy ground?

Wrain groaned.

Skye’s gaze drew to his face. It ran along his body, resting on the wound inflicted by Jesse, and there, she had her answer. Her hand fell away from her arm where the light grew brighter.

Do not waste it, the deity had said.

Well she wouldn’t waste it.

She placed both hands over Wrain’s chest and willed the magic to mend the gaping cavity in his chest. It fought against her and she pressed harder. This was her magic. Her decision. If the deity had truly chosen her, then her judgement meant something.

Heal him.

Something akin to a floodgate opened in her soul. It responded quickly, and it wasn’t just the green sparks that answered her call. The golden flecks danced over his chest, guiding her steady stream of emeralds and dictating their dance.

Skye watched them work. Gold. Her thoughts raced back to her fleeting glimpse of the Nether realm. There hadn’t been any gold, and yet as she watched now, the flecks were definitely there.

If they hadn’t come from the Nether... then... they’d come from her.

Wrain’s skin melted together seamlessly, but the Silverborn didn’t wake.

Worried, she risked a quick, excruciating glance at his aura. The agonising pain had not dulled with time from the action; rather, it was worse. When she shut down the aura a split second later, she knew that Wrain’s damage went past the physical. His aura was weak, barely managing to stay alight.

A tremor rippled through her soul, reminding her of what was at stake. She sheathed her blades and took a deep breath. In this state, he’d be nothing more than leverage against her.

 She’d have to leave him.

Skye wrapped him in his cloak and pulled his body to the wall to rest in an alcove. She called on her magic to hide him, caressing the air with her fingers, asking it to hide him from the view of any demons or corruption that may go past. The sparks dances from her fingers, each finding a spot in the air above Wrain where it remained, vibrating gently.

With her task completed, she stood. She didn’t look back as her sword and dagger found their way back into her hands, or when she strode towards the end of the corridor. She followed the corruption on her shoulder and walked down the corridor, turning left and coming to a large metal door.

Standing outside it, her shoulder was about to combust but she didn’t hesitate. She placed a hand on the door and pushed. The metal frame swung inward easily and she slipped through the gap.

A large space opened up before her, something that could have once been a central hall of the elven city the Citadel used to be, but no longer. Now it was a place of death and dark magic with various shimmering weapons lining the walls, trophies of the people the Corruption had brought down.

None of them drew more than a sparing glimpse from the corner of her eyes. A raised platform dominated her attention, or rather the figure upon it.

Skye couldn’t take her eyes off him. Jesse was hunched, his arms shaking with effort. Gone was the innocent expression of the boy who wandered Alguarde’s streets with her sharing his bread, replaced with a twisted grimace of anger and hate. Words slipped from his mouth as nothing more than noise, but with every breath from Jesse the shadows swirling around him increased.

“Ah, Skye. So glad you decided to join us. It will make the next part of the proceedings much easier for all involved.”

The Master moved out of the shadows, away from the base of the platform. Skye dragged her gaze from Jesse to meet the man who’d started all this. He stood calmly, casually switching from Jesse to Skye with a hand resting on the pommel of a sword with its tip on the ground.

“I understand you’re something of a swordswoman, my dear. Care to test yourself against me?”

Skye restrained herself from attacking. It was all too familiar of a trap.

“Not so keen now? Why, just before you were shouting insults at the walls about how I should face you like a Sentinel. I’m not quite sure you’re ready for that, but a friendly spar before I turn you into my newest recruit shouldn’t be too difficult for you. I saw how well you did against the Silverborn. Hardly broke a sweat.”

He’d stalked closer to her during his speech, but still, she didn’t advance on him. She watched as the shadows built around Jesse, gaining strength and width with every gesture the boy made. His silver armour was dull, no longer gleaming as a side effect of their enchantments.

He’s stripped the magic from the armour. Deities know what he’s done with it.

“Perhaps you need some encouragement,” said the Master.

A black streak shot from the ground where Jesse stood and curled around his leg. It gave way beneath him, but he still struggled to stand despite the obvious pain it was causing him. His elbow dropped, hand going to free it until a lilac shadow caught his wrist and yanked his hand back into the air.

The words falling from his mouth now were pained. Skye started forward, hand outstretched and ready to smash the thing grabbing him, stopped only by a violet wall of light appearing in front of her face.

“I asked if you cared to test yourself against me. I taught you once that defiance will not end well for you, but it seems you must be taught again.” The Master lifted his blade. “Continue to defy me and dear Jesse here will find out exactly what those tendrils can do.”

“Leave him alone,” she said.

“Or what?” asked the Master, flashing her a cruel smile. “You’ll continue to do nothing? Sit and be useless while I test how much more he can handle before he’s shattered beyond recognition? Yes, you were rather good at that in Alguarde, weren’t you?”

Skye twirled her dagger in her hand and returned his humourless smile.

If it was a fight he wanted, then it was a fight he was going to get.

*+*+*+*

A/N - Hai to all the new readers! The read counter has been going beserk in the last few days, although I'm not 100% sure it's not just WP screwing up, but I can hope. Rules around here are feel free to slap me with a subway cookie in the comments if you dislike the chapter.