Through his mind's eye, he saw, felt the change in his amulet. The concave star in the center of the device shifted, flowed, as two delicate tendrils of black metal grew out from each side of the central star, grew out, bent, then reached out to touch the triangles that surrounded it. The eight lines merged with the six triangles, two each on the top and bottom triangles, one each on the four that formed the sides, and the central star took on the abstract image of a spider sitting within the center of its web of triangles, all held within a circle.
Now, her voice echoed through his mind, through the Weave, through the entire world, now, my dear one, you are truly a Weavespinner.
The power faded from him, and the eyes tumbled away from his inner eye as he lost contact with that sensation. His weariness and weakened condition had overcome him, and he went from basking in the eyes of the Goddess herself to the blackness of unconscious oblivion.
Half a world away, in a large courtyard in the middle of a cavernous maze of carefully tended hedges, there stood a large fountain. The fountain was made of marble, and clear, pure water flowed within its base, the sound of its splashing a soothing sound to any who heard it. In the center of this fountain stood a statue of a nude female, the carving of it defining perfection itself. The face was a lovely one, gentle and kind, and any who stared upon it was calmed and felt peace.
The eyes of the statue suddenly erupted with intense white light, and the features of the statue changed visibly, flowing from that gentle benediction to a sense of triumph, of victory. The statue suddenly became surrounded by nimbus of soft bluish light, the light of High Sorcery. And then it was gone, and the light within the eyes of the statue faded away, leaving nothing but the victorious expression upon the statue's lovely features.
Within the huge central tower of the seven that made up the Tower of Sorcery, at its very core, flowed a magical feature known as the Heart of the Goddess. It was the largest Conduit in the world, the main artery through which the lifeblood of Sorcery flowed. It was the wellspring of the power of the katzh-dashi, a spring of energy from the Goddess herself.
That pillar-thick Conduit of magical energy suddenly flickered into visibility, then flared with a soft bluish radiance. But only for a moment. It was enough for every Sorcerer on the grounds to stop in his or her tracks, to stop and clutch at his or her chest as the power of the Weave expanded, shifted, if only a little, a sense of alteration that no Sorcerer in proximity to the Heart could miss.
It was enough for most of the citizens of Suld to stop what they were doing and look towards the Tower of Six Spires, the center of the city, where a pillar of soft light shimmered in the clear morning air, and then winked out. Most of them simply shrugged and went back about their daily business, for such magical apparitions weren't uncommon when the Tower was concerned.
But others understood it for what it was. And they felt fear.
To: Title EoF
Chapter 9
It was like the Gods had come down to earth to do war.
Sarraya flew at full speed through a blasted wasteland, a scene of carnage the likes of which she had never seen before, nor cared to ever see again. Just the memory of it was enough to make her shiver. The air was hot, nearly lethally hot from the lava, and the smell of sulfur and brimstone was heavy with the dust and the noxious gases erupting from the ground itself. Rock spires were laying on the ground, some melting in widening lakes of liquid rock, sending smoke and flames from the impurities in the rock wafting into the noxious air. The few pillars that still stood were all moved, leaning, and showed the signs that they had been subjected to unimaginable forces. The heat was so intense that she had to use her Druidic magic to protect herself from it, else she would die quickly as she flew into the raging firestorm that ringed the central area where the main battle had ensued. She darted through the surreal landscape, trying to find Tarrin before the pooling lava swept over him and burned him to cinders, her concern for her friend overshadowed by the awe of what she had just witnessed.
The power!
She had never seen such a display! The two of them had gone after each other with High Sorcery, and the earth itself had paid in blood for their conflict! The wounds were deep, raw, bleeding. Even now the fissure Tarrin had opened in the ground still oozed lava, and she could sense that it would become a volcano. It would not heal itself, it would simply grow into a mountain. The land had shaken, rock spires had toppled, and both the Weave and the All had shuddered violently in their battle. The Weave had been twisted, bent, warped, it had even moved while they were fighting one another, as if the presence of both of them at the same time, both using powerful magic, was nearly too much for the Weave to bear. It nearly tore, creating an effect similar to a miniature Breaking. The All had reacted to the raw power they sent at one another, and it had reacted to both of their magical spells that affected the land. Tarrin's little stunt with the fissure nearly sent the All spraying up out of the ground like the lava that still oozed forth, and that would have killed them all.
But he was still alive. How? She could feel that he was still alive, but he had crossed the line. He was being Consumed! She first wanted to rush to him, but a Sorcerer of his power meant that being Consumed would be absolutely disastrous, so she fled from the area when she realized that he had passed the point of no return. She had been feeling it, feeling the Weave itself writhe as the power of it tried to destroy him… and then it just stopped. She was absolutely mystified by that. It just stopped. That was supposed to be impossible. When a Sorcerer started the chain reaction of being Consumed, it was irreversible and unstoppable. And yet when it happened to Tarrin, it just stopped.
How?
She finally spotted him, laying on a risen section of ground, risen over the pooling lava before it, and to her surprise, the other one was standing before him, looking down at him. The ground had heaved and shifted when he made the fissure, and it made the start of it rise up as the land before it displaced the land surrounding it in order to make enough room to open the fissure. At that close proximity, the ambient heat of the lava should have been cooking him, but he looked unharmed. His hair and fur had even grown back. The other one wasn't attacking him now, she simply looked down at him.
A Selani with that kind of magical power? No. She had to be Sha'Kar. The Sha'Kar looked much like the Selani, and many in the circles of the forest folk speculated that the two were related. The Sha'Kar were long dead, but their affinity for Sorcery, and the agelessness it imparted to them, meant that it was entirely possible that at least one of them had survived. Because of that, she wasn't entirely surprised to see a Sha'Kar. This one was one of the Ancients, one of those Sha'Kar that had knowledge of the greatest of the secrets of Sorcery. But why had she attacked him in the first place? They were two unique beings. She should have been happy to see him! What provoked the assault, and the vicious battle that followed?
She completely ignored the Sha'Kar, blazing a straight line right to Tarrin's side. He lay on the hard ground, the leather clothing she made for him blackened and brittle from the heat of whatever happened. It was even smoking a little bit. But his hair and fur had regrown, and he had no obvious injuries. She landed on top of his chest and put her hands on him, used her Druidic powers to assense his physical condition-
– -and she was taken aback.
Something had changed inside him. It was subtle, but it was there. The power he'd used had had some kind of lasting effect on him, and she could sense that his connection to the Weave had changed in some unexplainable way. The Weave bent towards him now, just as it did towards the Sha'Kar. Outside of those things, he was perfectly fine. His body was exhausted, but after a long rest, he'd be just fine.