Woooopdedoooooooooop. Here is yet another chapter from moi, bron1991.
Go you, theknightofkonaha for guessing correctly the Yggdrasil leaf! I thought no one else knew lol. You know you love your new evil penguin…XD. OOOOH, but I had nooo idea about the Norse meaning, cyanide and Iz, Thank youuuu, my brain is now even more packed with information. And donuts.
Thank youuuuuu to all my other reviewers!!! It's a record number!! Cough7Cough
- theknightofkonaha – Well, I said it all above. WELL DONE…hehe.
- Timorth – Now your wish has been fulfilled, here is a new chapter!
- 4-eyedDragon – wow. You've liked all my chapters! I'm so touched:D
- Ninjia knight of Nagada – Lol. Here's some more. But whats wrong with going nuts?
- cyanide – You think it's different…cool. Tell me if I become to like every other Fanfic pleaaaaaaase.
- Evil Bunny Of death – My most loyal reviewer. SOB. And… I just adore your name.
Iz – Do you study Norse? I've always wanted to…but…I never got round to it. Thanks for liking my story. Hehe.
Disclaimer: Why why why would I be writing this Fanfic if I were Tamora Pierce? It'd already be published…:D
Chapter 12 - The Bloody Prophecy
Previously : Megal walked up to the battlements again, brooding about seeing those creatures again. In her arms were many potions; designed to re-energise everyone, to keep them awake. Whether it worked was another matter. The only way, Megal pondered, it would keep someone awake is that the smell could possibly wake the dead. Who knew about the taste? She stepped out into the open, and gasped at the sight before her.
Surrounding the battlements were so many stormwings, she nearly collapsed from the odour. In fact, she did nearly drop all of the potions. That would not have been her best move.
Walking over to Numair, she handed him the largest potion. He grimaced as he gulped it down, but after, Megal noted, his frowns had greatly decreased in size, as his energy returned. From her confused expression, Numair began to explain what was happening,
"The Stormwings must somehow of had an illusion spell on them. When we dropped the barrier, they doubled in size. But, stormwings can't perform illusion spells. It's just not possible…not even Ozorne…" Now was not the time to begin rambling, so he turned and flung some fire at the nearest Stormwing, causing it to burst, like an over-fulled balloon would.
Megal felt useless, she was doing a job no one could mess up, just because there wasn't anything else that she could do.
A very large Stormwing flew doggedly towards them; more in the pathway towards the king. Megal actually recognised who the king was. It maybe had something to do with the crown, or his royal aura. She was still proud of herself, having not met any royalty before. This Stormwing was the largest in the crowd, easily recognisable by his blood splattered blonde hair that seemed very long for a flying creature. His foot-long steel wings, no longer silver through the muck and grime that had been placed on them continued this demonic look. The Stormwing spoke with a sneer,
"If you wish to know answers, speak to the one who has the blood fire. The one who could destroy all in a glance. The one who began us. The one who will end us."
He then flew to the back of the group, and watched the action.
The other Stormwings continued their attack. The mages and archers were still working, so Megal was forced to continue giving out the broths and brews.
After her first trip, Megal stayed up at the battlements, watching the mages in awe. What the archers did was amazing as well, but nothing could compare to ordinary looking men flinging bolts from nowhere. It didn't seem possible…but it just was.
Her statute figure soon got the attention of a small group of Stormwings. Sneakily, they separated, so one would come at her from each side.
Megal was struck out of her dreamlike state by a flurry and squeaking of metal that sounded like nails on a chalkboard.
She had a gash upon her cheek, before she noticed. Megal looked up in anger, and saw a barrier between her and the other humans. They couldn't see what was happening! Three male Stormwings advanced, smirking.
"Oooh, she's pretty. Lets cage her now, and watch her." The smallest one drawled.
"Be quiet Zaphar, you know why you're hear." This was the reply of the largest Stormwing, though not the one who had spoken earlier.
Megal began to back away, until her back met the wall. Never had she felt so terrified, even back on Earth. The only one who hadn't spoken yet, was glaring at her, or rather slobbering.
"Take a picture. It will last longer you idiotic foul-mouthed cretin." As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. In a movement, swifter than you'd expect from their clumsiness, the Stormwings began attacking her again.
Megal lost her battle for calm, and searched inside her for her magic. She retrieved it by the bucket, and raw power flowed from her hands, destroying the Stormwings in their path. She was in agony. Her back screamed in anguish, her nose felt smashed. But the power continued even when there were no signs of the stormwings anymore.
Rikash had been alerted to the presence of magic around Megal, once she had begun her magic search. As he looked closer at her figure, he saw a complex illusion net. His thoughts were that it was the creation of Megal's, and that she was much more adept at magic, than she had let on.
Whilst the others were working, he destroyed the illusion spell, and gaped at the sight of Megal. She was burning. It was as though her magic was seeping her life.
Megal couldn't stop. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't. She felt the tears form in her eyes, before rapidly evaporating from the immense heat. She was going to die; after only a week of being awake in a place she had dreamed of being in all of her life. Having magic, it was all she had ever wanted; all she had ever wished.
It was going to all be taken away from her.
Suddenly, she felt strong, muscular arms around her. Her power ebbed, the fire seeping into her own skin. It wasn't the end for her yet. She sighed, in a mixture of pleasure and relief, and closed her eyes.
Rikash looked down upon her in angst. Her power had disappeared, but had he been too late. His grabbing hold of her was meant to disrupt the raw magic. That it had done, but did it matter if she wasn't alive?
He checked her pulse, and almost fainted in relief. She was going to be okay. After placing her down and sitting near a wall, he turned back to the fight, wincing from the new burns on his hands, and continued to help. Megal woke soon after, thinking that she had just dreamt the previous events. She slapped herself for falling asleep on the job, and stood, somewhat shakily, and returned to get more potions.
Finally, after what seemed hours, all the Stormwings were gone. Everyone was exhausted, including Megal, but she had to make yet more brews for everyone.
The first time she had taken the potions around, she had "accidentally" missed Rikash, just placing the mug casually on the floor, softly so it wouldn't break. This time, she was about to do the same but he began to speak,
"Did you make these?" The brew she had given him had required little skill to make, and after he had mistook her fatigue as boredom, Neal had put her to making them.
Megal nodded, dreading the oncoming insults, "it tastes…different." He added with a smirk.
When she thought that he wanted nothing else, she picked up his now empty cup, and turned away.
"You managed to get your hair in it." He yelled at her retreating back.
She ignored him, wondering slightly if the magic he'd used had caused those burns on his hands.
When the battle was definitely over and nearly everyone had returned inside for some sleep, she wandered up to Numair.
He appeared to be talking to a magic ball in his hand; obviously talking about the message the big Stormwing had given.
"I'm telling you Alanna. You should have been here and heard it. He said blood fire. I only know of one person who has that-."
His expression grew to one of shock as he registered Megal's presence behind him.
"We need to talk." The two spoke at the same moment.
Somewhere in the midst of the castle, King Jonathon was pacing, clenching his fist.
"We had peace! Doesn't that mean anything to anyone anymore!"
"Yes dear." Thayet looked bored, this conversation had lasted too long.
"And what was with that prophecy. How can someone have blood fire? Unless it is corrupted…but we would know if that had happened, surely."
He was ranting, so Thayet did the only thing possible,
"Go talk to Numair, and be courteous and let me sleep!"
"So," Numair began.
"So," Megal continued.
Both knew why they were there, but neither wanted to initiate the conversation. After they had spoken, Megal's life would most likely become tougher.
"You know that you've been working on your magic-" Megal nodded, "Well, have you noticed anything…odd about your magic?"
"Having magic is odd enough Numair, get to your point."
"Well…" He was about to continue when there was a loud greeting,
"Your Highness, do you want to see my father. Numair is right in there… your royal highness!"
Megal and Numair quickly became quiet, smartening themselves. Numair did this subconsciously since the last occasion when Jonathon had commented on his attire, and then made him show the disgustingly posh Lady Marietta around the palace. He did not want to do that again. Megal saw him do this, so copied, as she didn't know how this king actually acted, or how much he cared about people's appearances.
The King entered, a frown his largest feature. Numair and Megal stood, Numair giving a formal bow, Megal attempting a curtsey. Upon failing, she glanced up, and was immediately captured by his ice-blue eyes.
"Um good morning your highness…" It must have been morning, as she looked into the sky.
He looked her over strangely, as though he recognised her from somewhere. As soon as the moment began, it was over, and he turned to Numair,
"You have to find out what Tidal was talking about." Numair looked confused, then replied,
"Oh, you mean the Stormwing. Odd name. Quite…clean." Seeing the King's annoyed face, he continued,
"Of course, I'll figure out that riddle, your highness. Just leave it to me." This was a clear indication to leave. Jonathon wanted to say more, but knew that in this odd girl's presence, that would not be possible.
"Right." He turned to leave, before saying, "It's the afternoon by the way." Megal blushed a deep crimson, as he left the room.
"You might as well tell Rikash to come in." Megal said calmly to Numair. "He'd just listen at the door anyway."
Rikash, not waiting for Numair's reply, bounded in, curling up on a chair, as a cat might.
"Well…" the awkward silence began again, before Rikash untactfully spoke,
"Megal? You have loads of bruises and stuff on your back-" From Megal's shocked expression, he continued, "When you stood after giving me a potion, I…saw how bloody your back was." Megal hid a slight blush, covering her embarrassment by saying,
"Um, lets just say…I fell down…a lot." She didn't want to talk about it. That much was obvious.
"We'll come to that later…"Numair began, "Megal, you heard the Stormwing's prophecy, am I correct?" She nodded. "It mentioned someone with blood fire. He must have meant that their gift was red." Megal knew where this was going…
"There's no point carrying on Numair…I know what you're suggesting. How common is the colour red for magic?"
Rikash snorted, it was the dumbest statement he'd heard all day. Well, between that and the people who had yelled that the Stormwings would kill us all, and proceeded to run around manically, sobbing.
"It normally occurs when someone has had their magic corrupted. Either by meddling too far into their magic, or doing something so terrible, that is their punishment from the gods." It was Megal's turn to snort; who had heard of having more than one god? These people really were in the dark ages.
Numair ignored this snort, thinking she was sneezing. "As you are fully aware, your magic is the colour Stormwings may describe as bloody."
Megal clenched her fist, "There must be millions of people with gift. Surely someone else has this colour?" Numair shook his head, "I can't have 'began it all'. I've not been here for more than 5 minutes!"
Luckily, Numair and Rikash took this to mean that she had lived in a different country.
"There's not much that can be done at the moment anyway. Next time I talk to the King, I will have to mention you." She nodded, knowing he could be accused of treachery if he didn't. "For now, we'll carry on the lessons."
After their practice of magic, Numair had gone to tell Jonathon what they had learnt. Suffice to say, Jon was excited,
"She began it all! Does that make her powerful? Well, that's obvious. This is amazing!" His face was so full of glee, it hurt Numair to see it crushed when he told Jon that she had found little control of the magic yet, and that she refused to believe that the prophecy was about her.
"Continue teaching her, and report back to me if her power advances." This was a definite dismissal, so Numair left, dreading the job he'd have teaching Megal. It was true, she did have a sort of knack for her magic, but she was such a slow learner. What took toddlers an hour to learn, took her a day.
It was going to be a long midwinters.
And…there you go!
Oh yeah, my exams start VERY soon, so it might be a month or so till I update, just a warning.
Then again, I might update next week, hehe.
Your reviews are read with the pleasure of a cat that's eaten catnip!
OOOOh I had another idea for a story. Right, something about Daine. She slips through a gap in time, and finds herself 100 years later. Still Tortall, but all the people she knows are either dead, or really old. What do you think?? If its been done before, please tell me before I start it. Lol.
Bron1991
P.S – I don't know if anyone will understand this insult but…"you smell like toenails!" If you know where I got that…you are seriously cool.
