Blood, thick as lava, flows slow from gaping wounds. The Cauldronslave falls to his knees, then collapses like stones after lavaburst.
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Ibinu has no will left. That last spell, cast as strong as the Lady could possibly channel through him, has left him...tired. He blinks, his mind reeling, "Just tell Sophia, the Lady, that I didn't mean it. I tried to do the right thing. Just. Volc, feels like volc's gotta die..." The hand attached to the spear tried to gesture, but the effort is futile.
The spear has but one purpose, and one power: destruction. From the spear comes a ray of light so violently hot its white glow leaves green afterimages streaking across your vision. The spear knows what Ibinu knows - Samen's magicks are unpredictable and dangerous. It streaks toward the human mindmage---
Ibinu's left hand reaches out, saying, "Samen...?" But after a moment's hesitation, the hand drops. Voice suddenly angry, snarling, "He will die before breaks an oath! Death is the price of freedom from the Cauldron Lady!" The obsidian spear raises up, and...
A moment of black silence. His voice nearly a whisper, Ibinu says, "You've managed to throw off all your shackles, though, haven't you? Not all of us are so lucky to have power slopped onto our plate like a buffet. There is no escape from my Lady." As he gestures angrily, you realize, with a chill down your spine, that the spear is attached to his hand - he not gripping it, yet it remains firmly in his palm. I took the obsidian spear, channeled the fire of Igniscoeli, cleansed the dragon eggs of a wasting sickness, and did my own part to save Hearth from Moon. I am her servant on this mortal plane. Now Her commands are to make Her sole ruler of Hearth, through bloodshed and hate. When it is done, our faith will be pure, and the stronger for it." You cannot tell if he is angry with you, himself, or the Lady, but rage colors all his words red. "Make your move, if you dare."
"I am keeping my oath, yes."
A presence fills the room before the el arrives. Flames, passion, rage, and devotion all billow into the chamber. From the far door, a tall, pale el enters. He is covered in signs of the Lady: his well-tailored clothes are covered in cauldron stitching; black horns jut from his forehead; and the weapon he wields is a long obsidian spear that radiates magic like a wildfire. In a soft, controlled voice, he says, "I don't need the honey, Sophia. Sweetness tastes foul to me these days." Without looking at any of the hidden elens across the way, he continues, "I am called to meditate the Mysteries of the Cauldron Lady. Please leave me for now." The ele looks at him with sympathy, strokes his cheek, and leaves without a word. After a few moments, the el says casually, "You are skilled, but if you think you can hide so close to the center of my Lady's power, you are mistaken. Show yourselves, and perhaps we can talk. Otherwise..." His grip tightens on the spear, and a faint trickle of blood drips from the obsidian down to the floor.
A chill wind blows, bringing with it the memory of ancient times, elens huddled by bonfires to survive. A sylph with pale skin and a distant look comes through the portal. His forehead is graced with obsidian horns, a mark of favor from his Lady. He wears a well-made longcoat with a stitched pattern of the Cauldron over his heart. The cruel black spear that he wields, all one piece of obsidian, exudes volcanic sorcery. "Tonight is a time for deeds. The stories will come later. I am Ibinu Caldera." |