The Bane of Light

Escape

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The wings of shadow on my back swarmed me, absorbing my body whole, as though a magnet was drawing them out from the air. Once I was entirely consumed by shadow, as they pulled me through the fabric of space, swerving between molecules and magic and pneuma, before making me reappear back into the chaotic air of the council hall. I let them swarm around me for a moment, enjoying the way they rippled around me like a whirling current, tracing my fingers through the smokey essence, before allowing them to disappear completely.

With a flick of my hands, I dropped them, scattering them off my body and back into the darkness. I appeared in front of the remaining council members, standing amongst the rubble and debris of what remained of the glorious council hall. My smile widened viciously at the sight of them, battered and bruised, their blood painting the floor and the ridiculous thrones they once sat upon.

My mother was panting, her near-white hair falling into her face, undone from the tight knot she usually held it in at the back of her neck. One of her legs was dragging behind her, her white pant leg painted a shade of vibrant, lively red. It seems she had not been able to avoid the destruction. The sight of her was pathetic.

This was the woman I had been terrified of for all these years. This was the woman who I could not breathe around, the mere sight of her sending me into hysteria, my mind convulsing simply at the memory of her. This weakling of a witch.

My childhood terror had clouded my judgement, unable to see that the all-powerful monster who was once responsible for my childhood torments, was no longer. Back then, in her prime, she was vicious. Now she was simply weak. Or maybe she had always been weak, and it just did not seem so in the mind of child who could not fight back.

"Hello, mother" I called out to her, my eyes wide and smile even wider, wickedly delighted by the recent turn of events and shift of power. Wilhemine was grey, as if she had been painted in a cloud of debris, her electric blue eyes shocked.

"You" She growled at me, the singular word holding years worth of resentment and hatred. The shaking of the building stilled for a moment, tense.

"Yes. Me" I laughed maniacally. The sound was loud and garish in the now silent council hall. I suddenly choked on my breath, the laugh caught halfway between my throat as a wave of pain slammed into me, so violent that it nearly toppled me over. The raw smell of winter rapids, so cold that it burned my nostrils, hit me.

Ah. My mother wanted to play with magic.

The blood in my veins burned like acid, and I could almost feel the grinding of my bones beneath my skin, crushing to smithereens under an unfathomable weight. The pain did not sting, like the way my mothers magic usually felt; precise and venomous. Instead, this pain was simply aggressive and masculine, thudding into me like the feeling of a bruise. Wilhemine was becoming sloppy. She was weakened, no longer having the mental stability to launch her methodical attacks, so elaborate that they were inherently female.

I whispered the first counter spell I could think of, and felt as cool rushed my veins, the intense, forceful pain ending just as quickly as it had come. She was definitely weak. I should not have been able to subdue her so quickly.

"You think pain will stop me, mother?" I cackled at her, my eyes wild, "You think that one weak curse of yours will be enough to stop me?"

My shadows unwound the bloodied bandage from my disremembered pointer finger, dropping it to the floor. It fluttered through the air like a delicate ribbon, before revealing the mangled mess of my finger. I smiled at my mother as I lifted it up to her, displaying it proudly.