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sparkindarknessHmmm, onto 30 already? Still fighting fuzzy beginnings and increasingly urgent middle and ending. Massively wordy, but I'm afraid that tends to be my curse. I'm going to try one of these days and write soemthing that isn't excessively padded. Something succinct.
Hey, it might happen, right?
The first sign appeared several days ago. It was subtle, almost invisible. If I hadn’t been looking it would have passed by shrouded in irrelevance to me. But it has began, they are here, and I have to know who it is.
It was a ripple in the natural darkness that covers any area of urban sprawl - where people gather darkness follows, it is one of the inevitable factors of the human race. Get enough people together and they will prey on one another, use one another, destroy one another for their own useless, puerile purposes. The larger cities are positive masses of vile darkness, strengthened by every selfish crime, every social injustice, every corrupt politician, every despairing, poverty stricken family.
Now an area of the city feels the weakening of this evil blanket. This can happen; kindness, goodness, honesty and empathy are powerful forces still, even today, but it is rare and the scale usually small and short lived before the darkness rallies against the brief, weak flare. This is prolonged, perhaps even expansive. And I know - my family is here.
They have small tolerance for corruption, and less for meaningless suffering. They also have the power to express their intolerance in an aggressive and permanent fashion. I imagine that any human predators in that vicinity have suddenly found life there very difficult. A welcome relief to the victims, but a dire omen for me. It’s happened over too large a scale, they have been here for some time. It happened relatively quickly too, this isn’t a lone agent. It seems I am sufficient reason to finally make the traditionalists in my family bend the rules a little. I am almost flattered.
I am definitely scared.
I need to know who. I need to know what they can do, how much they know.
Which is why I’m sat in the middle of the floor, carpet rolled back against one wall. On the bare boards that have often carried the arcane markings of Rick’s spiritual workings, and painted in red and black liquids far darker runes. Runes of power and death, of the shadows and darkness. Runes of necromancy. The power flows and it’s servants, the restless dead, the dispossessed spirits, souls dragged from a thousand afterlives, remaining soul fragments and passioned memories answer its call. They gather in spectral masses with the natural powers of the underworld, entities of the shadow lands, wraiths, poltergeists and spectres. Banshees, Grims and dozens of denizens of the depths clamour to come closer. Frost shimmers on the walls and our breath flows in delicate mists.
Rick is pressed tightly against one wall. He also sits in his own circle, but the runes in this one point outwards. His worried, angry face stares out from behind his curtain of protective wards as his shaman eyes easily pierce the thin veil that hides the fell creatures from view. His own servants and spies have long since left, his guardians crowd around him until the air shimmers. I think my necromancy disturbs him far more deeply than any of my other powers, in many ways it is a perversion of his own arts.
A thousand invisible eyes have gone forth. For days they have sought and probed. We have been duelling here as much as we did against my sister. The strain is etched in both our faces as I finally call my banishing spells, as I release the servants I have called from my bondage. The air warms and the frost cracks. Slowly they drift from the flat, leaving only a few in the reflecting shadowlands to attend me. Rick sighs and tension visibly drains from him as I wipe away my circle, mirroring me to remove his own runes.
“Coffee?” He doesn't wait for an answer, but quickly acquires two large steaming mugs of extremely strong coffee, drinkable only due to the decadent amount of cream and sugar in each. He nearly drains his in one gulp while I sip mine.
“So, I hope you’ve learned more than me.” His voice is light, but I know him too well not to hear the worry. It was a far harder exercise than we had anticipated.
“I doubt it. They were very well protected, not that I expected much else.” I pause to drink form the dark brew. Surprisingly it helps ease my mind considerably. “They are three, I know that much.” Rick nodded, his own spirits having confirmed much the same, before cutting in.
“One’s a psychic of some kind, don’t know what flavour though. But shit, she’s good, real good. Possibly got two different skill sets. You got many psychics in your group?”
“A few. But only one woman I can think of as young as the ghosts claim,” age and closeness to death was an easy feat for my spies to ascertain. “She’s a cousin, her name’s Rhiannon. She’s short and dainty, almost delicate, and very refined. Don’t underestimate her. She’s a powerful telekinetic and a telepath. Watch your thoughts again, she’s powerful and subtle. Pack some wards against mind control and be aware that anyone we meet might be under her thrall.” Rick whistled softly.
“Sounds like a tough cookie. Well, player number two was a fucking wall, could hardly get near him. Layered with wards, good ones too. Bet you he’s the one who laid down most their defences. He’s male, about all I can tell you.”
That meshes with most of what I found. “His magick’s very regimented and organised. So I’m thinking he’s powerful in a formulaic form of magick.”
Rick rolls his eyes slightly. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“A magick that’s similar to a science. Alchemy, kabbalism, most technomagicks, numerology even herbalism and astronomy to some extent. Plus a couple of dozen others. Magick with rules, laws and orders. Most magick has elements of it, but some go above the norm. The Egyptians were very good at it.”
“Ok, so one anal magician. Now, number the third? You got something on this bastard? Because, frankly I’m getting contradictory messages. Best I got is he’s some kind of naturist. Kinda anyway. He’s shifty, I’m guessing jack of all trades? I dunno, there was some suggestion of something... higher? You get that at all?”
I hoped Rick would know more about this one. “I don’t know. He was intensely connected to powers of life, not really my field. Higher? There are any number of wizards who’d claim their magick is higher. A White mage? An Earth Singer? A Gaian avatar?” I put my cup down loudly in disgust. “Could be nearly anything, most fields can tap into life magick.”
Rick put his own cup down, laid back and looked intently at me. His face was careful, but those sun touched blue eyes showed only love. His voice was soft and gentle. “Well... we know the enemy, beautiful. But what we going to do about it?”
I pause for a few minutes, drinking in the sight of him, savouring his presence for just a short time. Finally I take a deep breath and feel my certainty coalesce.
“I can’t wait for them to find me. No matter what we prepare, people are going to get caught in the cross fire. That’s unacceptable.”
Rick nodded, sure on that score.
“So I’m going to them. Bathed in power and reason, I’ll invite them to leave.”
Rick’s jaw dropped.
“There is no choice. Only they can end this without bloodshed. I will give them that option, and a clear indication of what will happen if they pursue this. I am tired of being hunted for what I will become.”
Rick licked his lips and stared silently at me. Even Ahrimadan stared at me, hearing the steel in my voice.
And he grinned.
Hey, it might happen, right?
The first sign appeared several days ago. It was subtle, almost invisible. If I hadn’t been looking it would have passed by shrouded in irrelevance to me. But it has began, they are here, and I have to know who it is.
It was a ripple in the natural darkness that covers any area of urban sprawl - where people gather darkness follows, it is one of the inevitable factors of the human race. Get enough people together and they will prey on one another, use one another, destroy one another for their own useless, puerile purposes. The larger cities are positive masses of vile darkness, strengthened by every selfish crime, every social injustice, every corrupt politician, every despairing, poverty stricken family.
Now an area of the city feels the weakening of this evil blanket. This can happen; kindness, goodness, honesty and empathy are powerful forces still, even today, but it is rare and the scale usually small and short lived before the darkness rallies against the brief, weak flare. This is prolonged, perhaps even expansive. And I know - my family is here.
They have small tolerance for corruption, and less for meaningless suffering. They also have the power to express their intolerance in an aggressive and permanent fashion. I imagine that any human predators in that vicinity have suddenly found life there very difficult. A welcome relief to the victims, but a dire omen for me. It’s happened over too large a scale, they have been here for some time. It happened relatively quickly too, this isn’t a lone agent. It seems I am sufficient reason to finally make the traditionalists in my family bend the rules a little. I am almost flattered.
I am definitely scared.
I need to know who. I need to know what they can do, how much they know.
Which is why I’m sat in the middle of the floor, carpet rolled back against one wall. On the bare boards that have often carried the arcane markings of Rick’s spiritual workings, and painted in red and black liquids far darker runes. Runes of power and death, of the shadows and darkness. Runes of necromancy. The power flows and it’s servants, the restless dead, the dispossessed spirits, souls dragged from a thousand afterlives, remaining soul fragments and passioned memories answer its call. They gather in spectral masses with the natural powers of the underworld, entities of the shadow lands, wraiths, poltergeists and spectres. Banshees, Grims and dozens of denizens of the depths clamour to come closer. Frost shimmers on the walls and our breath flows in delicate mists.
Rick is pressed tightly against one wall. He also sits in his own circle, but the runes in this one point outwards. His worried, angry face stares out from behind his curtain of protective wards as his shaman eyes easily pierce the thin veil that hides the fell creatures from view. His own servants and spies have long since left, his guardians crowd around him until the air shimmers. I think my necromancy disturbs him far more deeply than any of my other powers, in many ways it is a perversion of his own arts.
A thousand invisible eyes have gone forth. For days they have sought and probed. We have been duelling here as much as we did against my sister. The strain is etched in both our faces as I finally call my banishing spells, as I release the servants I have called from my bondage. The air warms and the frost cracks. Slowly they drift from the flat, leaving only a few in the reflecting shadowlands to attend me. Rick sighs and tension visibly drains from him as I wipe away my circle, mirroring me to remove his own runes.
“Coffee?” He doesn't wait for an answer, but quickly acquires two large steaming mugs of extremely strong coffee, drinkable only due to the decadent amount of cream and sugar in each. He nearly drains his in one gulp while I sip mine.
“So, I hope you’ve learned more than me.” His voice is light, but I know him too well not to hear the worry. It was a far harder exercise than we had anticipated.
“I doubt it. They were very well protected, not that I expected much else.” I pause to drink form the dark brew. Surprisingly it helps ease my mind considerably. “They are three, I know that much.” Rick nodded, his own spirits having confirmed much the same, before cutting in.
“One’s a psychic of some kind, don’t know what flavour though. But shit, she’s good, real good. Possibly got two different skill sets. You got many psychics in your group?”
“A few. But only one woman I can think of as young as the ghosts claim,” age and closeness to death was an easy feat for my spies to ascertain. “She’s a cousin, her name’s Rhiannon. She’s short and dainty, almost delicate, and very refined. Don’t underestimate her. She’s a powerful telekinetic and a telepath. Watch your thoughts again, she’s powerful and subtle. Pack some wards against mind control and be aware that anyone we meet might be under her thrall.” Rick whistled softly.
“Sounds like a tough cookie. Well, player number two was a fucking wall, could hardly get near him. Layered with wards, good ones too. Bet you he’s the one who laid down most their defences. He’s male, about all I can tell you.”
That meshes with most of what I found. “His magick’s very regimented and organised. So I’m thinking he’s powerful in a formulaic form of magick.”
Rick rolls his eyes slightly. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“A magick that’s similar to a science. Alchemy, kabbalism, most technomagicks, numerology even herbalism and astronomy to some extent. Plus a couple of dozen others. Magick with rules, laws and orders. Most magick has elements of it, but some go above the norm. The Egyptians were very good at it.”
“Ok, so one anal magician. Now, number the third? You got something on this bastard? Because, frankly I’m getting contradictory messages. Best I got is he’s some kind of naturist. Kinda anyway. He’s shifty, I’m guessing jack of all trades? I dunno, there was some suggestion of something... higher? You get that at all?”
I hoped Rick would know more about this one. “I don’t know. He was intensely connected to powers of life, not really my field. Higher? There are any number of wizards who’d claim their magick is higher. A White mage? An Earth Singer? A Gaian avatar?” I put my cup down loudly in disgust. “Could be nearly anything, most fields can tap into life magick.”
Rick put his own cup down, laid back and looked intently at me. His face was careful, but those sun touched blue eyes showed only love. His voice was soft and gentle. “Well... we know the enemy, beautiful. But what we going to do about it?”
I pause for a few minutes, drinking in the sight of him, savouring his presence for just a short time. Finally I take a deep breath and feel my certainty coalesce.
“I can’t wait for them to find me. No matter what we prepare, people are going to get caught in the cross fire. That’s unacceptable.”
Rick nodded, sure on that score.
“So I’m going to them. Bathed in power and reason, I’ll invite them to leave.”
Rick’s jaw dropped.
“There is no choice. Only they can end this without bloodshed. I will give them that option, and a clear indication of what will happen if they pursue this. I am tired of being hunted for what I will become.”
Rick licked his lips and stared silently at me. Even Ahrimadan stared at me, hearing the steel in my voice.
And he grinned.
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Wow!
Date: 2003-09-19 11:59 pm (UTC)Re: Wow!
Date: 2003-09-20 01:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-22 03:32 pm (UTC)they don't really leave him much in a way of a choice.
and you can't blame something for fighting for survival.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-08-23 02:53 pm (UTC)I don't blame him for trying to survive - unfortunately he can be destroyed without dying fighting his family.