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Chapter 15 - Consumed
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Ley.
Power.
Control.
Ley.
The banshee needed more.
Always more.
She slipped through the clustered trees with ease, moving ever closer to her goal, the glowing beacon she could sense with every fibre of her being that lured her in. Though earth and trunk alike gave way to her will, freedom was far from her thoughts.
Dragged in chains, clapped in irons enchanted to hold her ethereal form so she couldn't slip through, couldn't escape the mortal prison. In that dungeon, she'd thought she'd waste away to nothing. The measly portions of ley the powerless ones had fed her wasn't enough to fill that gaping hole that roiled inside her, always hungry, always demanding to be filled with the sweet ambriosa of a Mythic's life force contained inside a crystal.
She'd missed her first chance to taste it from the female Mythic she'd had pinned beneath her. The female had tried to burn her with flames, but pain was nothing against the cravings that consumed her. She'd ignored the blistering skin and pressed forward, so tormented by the nectar she could smell, so obsessed that she hadn't guarded her one weakness, her own crystalline ley vessel that hung from her throat unprotected.
Unprotected and stolen.
Stolen by that voice that never left her mind. That voice that was always calling, always telling, driving her in directions she did not want to take, using her for goals that the banshee did not understand. They were always met with a small reward of the ambriosa she sought, but it was never enough to quench her thirst.
A slave to the powerless. Nothing but a slave to those I could drain the life of, a slave to those that I should--
The banshee hissed as a white-hot pain seared through her core.
You will do no such thing.
That voice. The cursed voice that never left her mind. Always calling, always telling, always there, listening, watching, waiting.
The pain at the banshee's core flared, so intense that it brought her to a halt.
Do not think to disobey me, banshee. You are under my control! Do as I command! Find the goal!
The banshee obeyed. She could do nothing else.
She went deeper.
The saplings gave way to the more matured among them, their branches high and wide with leaves that blanketed the sky in green. The small animals that inhabited them scattered at the first sign of the banshee's presence, that instinct saving a small mouse from death at the hands of its winged predator as she slipped by.
She went deeper still, venturing with less certainty into ancient grounds.
These woods were ancient. The trees whispered to eachother in a language the banshee did not understand, their veins filled to the brim with an energy older than she dared to taste. The same instinct that had made the animals flee now rose up inside herself, and for the first time, she hesitated.
They do not want me here.
The voice seemed unconcerned. They do not matter.
The banshee backed up a step, seperating herself from the trunks of the trees around her. They are ancient, far more powerful than I.
The voice was softer this time, edged in a greed that the banshee understood.
But you're so close to the goal and the prizes that lay within. Seek it out. Claim that which you deserve and drain them dry. They're all yours. All of them except the phoenix and the oracle.
But the rest are mine? confirmed the banshee, already drunk on the thought.
The rest are yours.
The banshee retook her upright position, staggering backwards so her heel slipped inside the protruding root of a nearby tree before she ghosted forward, utterly focused on the beacon that called to her, sang to her blood and the void within her. She pressed forward into the trees, a shiver wracking her body as they tried to turn her away, but she would not be swayed.
She continued through the barrier of trees, one step at a time until she came to a stone wall that hummed with power. She pressed a hand against it, testing the strength of its physical form only to find it flare with light at the contact, stinging her skin.
The nectar was so close. The stone was practically a nest for the sheer volume it contained inside. A wail built in her throat, the keening cry that echoed across the airwaves and into the sky above, proclaiming the omen for any that would hear the promise.
The banshee raked her nails against the ancient stones that glowed at her touch.
They repelled her now.
But not for long.
*+*+*+*
A/N - AND WITH THAT, THE NANO IS SLAIN! And no, the story is not over. We've got heaps more crap to put Rena and co. through before that ^.-
Spare a vote, even if it's a really short chapter in celebration of the NaNo beast being slain? ^_^
Wordcount: 50,136 ~ 26th of November
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Mythic (NaNoWriMo14)
FantasíaRena wanders a decaying land, searching for purpose to a life that was supposed to have been laid out for her. As a Mythic, the people worship the ground she walks on. To them, a Mythic is life, a living representation of the ley energy that sustai...
