The Gathering of the Hunt

CHAPTER NINE (Part One)

Aesira's expression became a thing of untamed, twisted beauty. In battle, her features always seemed sharper, and her gaze filled with the anger of a fallen kingdom. Her breaths were still coming in sharp pants, her earlier panic still not forgotten.

She clenched her hand into fists allowing the slight pain caused by her nails digging into the flesh of her palms to be an anchor before she reached out with her magic. The world seemed alive, vibrating with the very essence of the gods. She felt it call to her, begging her to direct it. She obliged, answering its demands.

The world sparked with her anger, seemingly reacting to the hatred that she felt deep inside her bones.

She grinned ferally, before letting the Cardovin soldiers feel the wrath that was a constant song in her veins. In the back of her mind, there was a part of her that hesitated, afraid of what she was capable of, and yet she still did not pull back, did not calm the fury that lingered in her bones.

Let the world feel the anger of a fallen kingdom. Let the world see how broken the people of Aisilyria were, and how much more deadly it made them.

There was a darkness that lingered in the corners of her vision, a reminder of the monster that lurked underneath her skin.

The air around her vibrated with energy, forming a protective sphere around her. She would not be the one that would hurt today. It would be the Cardovins that would truly know what it was like to feel pain. She raised her hands in front of her and finally released the damper on her power.

The sky turned dark and the winds picked up, a deadly gale that encompassed the soldiers.

"Aesira." She heard the call of her friends behind her, but she did not turn. She could not get the image of the torrents of blood that spilled from Stralva's leg out of her head. My fault. It is all my fault. Everything is my fault.

Maybe the Cardovin Prince was right. Maybe everyone would stop hurting if she were gone. But today would not mark her death. It would mark a new dawn for her, a dawn where she would let no-one stand in the way of her vengeance. It was a new beginning, every bit as hopeless as her soul, but a beginning nonetheless.

She refused to let one more person be hurt because of her. A half-hysterical laugh burbled up inside of her but she was unsure of the reasoning behind it.

She flicked her wrists forwards and flame grew before her, spreading and growing into an inferno.

The sky darkened further, and above, lightning flashed. She could feel the life force of the Cardovin soldiers. They were surrounded. But she also surrounded them.

Her body was flooded with the feeling of power, raw and untamed. No power was beyond her reach; it never had been, and would never be. A single touch--that was all that it took for her to have the ability to wield whatever she wanted to.

There was nothing that could stop her. She expanded her reach, gripping a soldier's lifeblood in her magical grasp. There was no escaping her now.

Blood sprayed, in a gushing arc, staining the forest landscape. A strangled scream rose up before it was cut off in a gasping breath. She did not feel the soldier's heart beat again.

Darkness unfurled from her body, shrouding the forest in shadow.

She heard Stralva's gasp of horror. She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of his judgement fall upon her shoulders.

A volley of arrows retaliated against her attack. She moved her fingers, barely a twitch of movement, and yet her flames leapt and left behind nothing of the arrows but a cloud of dust that was scattered by a brisk wind smelling of fresh snow.

Time slowed down, narrowed in a single moment. Spiralling tongues of fire spread through the trees, deadly and graceful, a representation of her. The screams did not fade as quickly this time, lingering heavily in the air.