Protectress of the Small: I don't know how I thought about the creesha thing; it just popped up in my head while I was typing. I had been planning about the 'ball of light' but it just occurred to me that it should have a name, so I picked a random one- creesha.
Ethuiliel: Well, I am stalling a bit by inventing the creesha, but I wanted to complete the plot and Kris has to find a way to say goodbye to her friends, so I made it two weeks. Anyway, the creesha is going to be rather useful in this chapter.
This chapter will be speeding up to the point where the two weeks are over, and Kris's last day as a mortal has approached. A lot of things happen on this day, and the plot is coming to an end.
I know this chapter will look very abrupt, everything squashed into one chapter, but please bear with me.
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Chapter 8:
Two weeks later (Morning)Kris leaned against the wall of her room, thinking. Thinking had become a favorite past time of hers the past two weeks. She thought about everything. She thought about how she would miss her friends. She thought about what she would tell her friends. She thought about her future.
Today she pondered more than usual, for the previous night, Skyleth had appeared in her dreams, telling her that tonight she would be going to the Divine Realms with him, and stay there until there was a holiday. Her home would be in the Divine Realms for all eternity. She would become a real goddess this very night.
The previous two week had passed seemingly in a daze. Everyday Kris used most of her time accompanying her friends. In the evening she would have lessons with Numair. Even though she knew having magic lessons would have no real use in the future, she liked having a quiet time with her teacher. Kris would listen absently to his lectures, imagining a world without his long speeches and fatherly attention. Kris became less talkative, instead spending long periods of time examining her friends. Her leaving was made slightly better by the fact that she would be able to still see her friends, even if in different circumstances.
At night, whenever there was a ball, 'Nyleth' would be her partner. Numair's disapproval of him had faded till the point he actually begun to like 'Nyleth'.
"He's not so bad," Numair grudgingly admitted. "But there's still something wrong about him."
Kris's friends had noticed her sudden odd and withdrawn behavior. They tried to ask her what was wrong, but Kris refused to tell. Kris had not yet thought of anything to say, and she knew that time was running out.
Another constant problem in the palace was the enemy mage who was still on the loose. He had destroyed another half a dozen patrols the past two weeks, and the matter had leaked out, until every person in the palace knew. People in the palace were tense, waiting each day for the news that more people had been eliminated. Numair, to his shame, was unable to do anything. He was, however, certain that the enemy mage was hiding in the Royal Forest. Men sent to search combed every stone in the forest, but got nothing but tired feet.
Kris was startled out of her dwelling by a sudden gleam of white light. Straightening, she glanced around. Then she discovered that the white light's source was herself. Light shone from her whole body. Her arms, legs, feet, everywhere, were glowing a gentle pulsing white under her skin.
Unnerved, she sat on a chair. An idea occurred to her. With the ease of constant practice, her mind slipped into her body. Kris headed to her core of magic that was her Gift. Many other times she had made this trip into herself with Numair.
When she reached her core of magic, however, she was shocked. The core was not the usual deep green color of her Gift. Instead, almost all of it had changed to a soft white color. Only a few layers of green remained at the top of her core. Many white strands had strayed out from her core, drifting away, the reason for her body glowing white.
This was her change to godhood, Kris realized. But I can't walk around shining with light, Kris mused. I have to keep all my magic in one place, be it godly magic or mortal Gift.
She focused on the stray strands of light. Kris grabbed every drifting thread of light into her imaginary hands. It took a lot of time, for more floated out from her core of magic every moment. But Kris was determined, and finally, every loose thread of light she could locate was gathered. Being in direct contact with her magic made her tingle. Carefully she spun each strand of light back into her core of magic.
Knowing it was rather silly but the only method she could think of, Kris firmly said to the white part of her magic: Stay there unless I need you! Kris repeated this at her core of magic a few more times, pressing all her will into that one sentence. At last, as Kris examined her magic with a critical eye, no more strands of light broke loose.
Kris returned to herself and glanced down at her body. Everything was back to normal. I'll have to be careful not to use my godly magic for today, Kris thought. Relieved and amazingly exhausted, Kris was heading to her bed for a morning nap when there was a frantic knocking on her door.
Kris swore fluently and flicked her hand at the door. It flung open, and a young messager boy stumbled in.
"What is it?" Kris asked tiredly.
"Forgive me for interrupting you, my lady, but Master Salmalin has requested that you go down to the stables right away. He says it is extremely urgent, my lady. He is waiting for you down there." The boy puffed. He looked like he had just run a marathon.
"Right. Thanks. I'll be down in a moment." Kris grumbled. She tossed a coin to the boy and closed the door with a twitch of her hand.
Sighing, Kris turned to her window and pushed it open. She climbed out to the windowsill. Her room was at least five floors high, but going straight out her window to the ground floor was the fastest way to the stables.
After checking that no one was near, she leapt out. As the ground rose up to meet her, Kris jerked her hand. White fog streamed from her hand to below her, and Kris landed lightly in the middle of the thick soft magical cloud. The cloud lowered her gently to the ground before fading away.
Kris jogged towards the stables, and when she turned a corner and the stables came into sight, she froze with shock, rooted to the ground by surprise.
In front of her was a chaotic sight. A crowd of whispering people surrounded the stables at a safe distance. Hostlers were shouting and trying to calm down the horses who had broken out from their stalls, eyes rolling with fright and neighing shrilly.
Kris's jaw dropped when she saw the horses. For every single horse she could see had tangled and knotted manes. All their fine manes had been twisted and tied into complicated knots that seemed impossible to untie. Even their tails were in knots.
Kris pushed her way through the crowd to where Numair was standing grimly near the horses.
"What happened?" Kris cried, gesturing at the horses. They were now rapidly calming down- Daine was standing in the middle of them, crooning to them softly.
"That's what Daine's trying to find out. Apparently, from what the hostlers told me, there was a loud explosion from outside. When they rushed out to check what was happening, nothing was there. When they returned to the stables, the horses were already like this," Numair tilted his head in the horses' direction. "and the horses started panicking and trampling out."
The hostlers were leading the horses back into their stalls. The crowd around them started to disperse, still murmuring excitedly. Daine came to stand beside Kris and Numair, looking perplexed.
"From what the horses told me, after the hostlers went out of the stables, there was a sudden eruption of strong magic right in the middle of the stables. Then the magic settled itself on each of the horses. Horses sometimes get nervous around magic, and having it suddenly used on them without warning… they just went wild." Daine said, shaking her head sadly. "Those knots are going to take an eternity to unknot."
"More trouble. Another prank of that enemy mage, no doubt. That 'explosion' the hostlers heard must have been a distraction." Numair groaned, rubbing his face wearily. "I have to report this to his majesty. Kris, would you mind going in there and untying those knots by magic? I'll bet that it can't be done by hand, so we'll have to use magic."
Numair was right. The hostlers failed to loosen any of the knots, only succeeding in plucking a few strands of horse hair by accident, earning themselves screeches of pain by the horses.
The whole morning and part of the afternoon was spent in the stables, unknotting the horses' manes. Daine had to spend some time persuading the horses before they reluctantly agreed to let Kris use magic on them. Still, the horses were extremely jumpy and Daine had to accompany Kris in the stables to soothe them. Matters were not helped by the fact that most of Kris's Gift had been replaced by god magic, so she quickly tired from using her Gift. Kris would have liked to use her god magic, but she could not risk any of the horses telling Daine.
When the last knot had finally been untied, Kris was extremely bad-tempered from weariness. She was stomping up to her room when she was once again halted by another messager boy.
Kris glared daggers at the messager boy. Where was she supposed to be summoned to now? Kris thought with irritation. The boy looked positively petrified. Stuttering, he squeaked, "Lady…lady Kris…. His… his majesty requires you to...to be in his study room…imme… immediately."
Biting her lip to stop herself from snapping at the boy, Kris nodded curtly, handed him a coin, and strode up the stairs impatiently. Kris hoped the king wasn't planning to hold another long meeting that lasted hours.
Kris's worst fears were realized when she arrived at the king's study room. Numair, Alanna, Lady Knight Keladry and a few other people Kris didn't know were already seated. The king waved her over to a chair, and proceeded to hold a lengthy discussion about setting a trap for the enemy mage.
Kris constantly stifled yawns. She barely listened as the others proposed their own ideas. She had no interest whatsoever in setting traps; all she wanted was to get some sleep before she blasted someone with magic out of sheer annoyance.
Kris was so tired that she slumped down into her chair, and very soon fell into a light doze.
What seemed like moments later someone shook her shoulder gently, and Kris, startled, jerked her head up.
Numair grinned and pulled up her up. "Come on, it's time for dinner, sleepy head. Everyone's already leaving."
Kris glanced around. Everyone was filing out the door, and rays of sunlight by the window were lightening.
As the two of them headed to the mess hall, Kris asked, "How did that discussion go?"
"You would have known if you weren't asleep." Numair said in mock sterness. "But we didn't get anywhere with the talking. Seriously, though, I rather think this enemy mage is very weird, and his magic doesn't seem very normal."
Kris was just considering going to bed without dinner when a sudden bloom of strong magic registered itself on her magical senses. Numair, judging from his abrupt halt that made Kris bump into him, had noticed it too.
"What was that?" Numair hissed.
"No idea." Kris said softly, tuning in to her magical senses. "But it's coming from downstairs. The courtyard, I think."
Both of them turned and started down the stairs. Alanna, Raoul, Daine and the king joined them in sprinting down the stairs.
"Alanna and his majesty said something about feeling strong magic…" Daine said.
"You feel it too, Lioness?" Numair asked as they turned into the deserted courtyard.
Alanna nodded. "Very powerful magic, from the feels of it. I have a feeling who this might be."
"But there's no one…" Raoul began.
A low cackle sounded from behind them, making them spin around. A navy-blue rectangular door was floating just behind them, drifting a few inches above the ground. The door was wide open, and through the door, Kris saw a clearing lined with shadowy looming trees-somewhere in the Royal Forest. And stepping through the door was the ugliest man Kris had ever seen.
The man was only two inches shorter than Numair. A set of grayish old robes, bearing many tears and burns on its fabric, clung around a skinny frame. His hair was in disorder; it was frayed and stuck out untidily in all directions. His face was the worst. Every inch of his face was covered with different sorts of scars; Kris saw a revolting thick reddish zigzagged scar running from his right ear to his chin which was oozing a dirty yellow pus. A large chunk was missing from his nose; what was left of it was sunk into his skin. His lips were so thin he might as well have none at all. His teeth, revealed when he grinned rather unpleasantly at them, proved to be yellowish and chipped. Skinny branch-like hands were clasped together as he leered at them. All in all, Kris would have thought he was an unfortunate beggar on the streets, but the man's intelligent blue eyes told her otherwise.
"You took your time coming down here." He leered in a raspy dry voice.
"Are you the mage responsible for all those deaths in the palace?" the king demanded rather calmly.
"I don't fear to admit what I've done. Yes, those men were dead because of me. The horses too, to stir things up and create unease." The man leered at them again.
"What benefit would you gain to do all this?" the king continued. Kris saw that Numair's open palm was hidden behind his back. A ball of light was growing in the middle of his palm. Kris recognized a talking spell.
"Benefit? Benefit for myself, of course!" the man growled. "King Maggur, the idiot, he didn't recognize me for the great mage I am, and chose that other mage for major tasks! But that doesn't matter, once I destroy the ruler of Tortall, he will give me the honor and respect I, Branaric, the great mage, deserve!"
Branaric's eyes were starting to glisten madly. Kris chanced another glance at Numair. He had passed the talking spell to Raoul, who was standing at the back of the group and hidden from Branaric's view.
"You!" Branaric snarled suddenly, pointing a finger at Numair and Daine. Unprepared, the two of them were thrust to the side by an invisible hand, and a sheet of blue fire covered the talking spell in Raoul's hand, and both magics vanished. Raoul was suddenly engulfed in dark blue fire, and he started to yelp. Hurriedly, Kris used her Gift to drag the fire away, forcing it to fade away.
Alanna leapt forward onto Branaric, her sword out. The enemy mage raised a hand swiftly, and Alanna fell backwards onto the ground. Branaric made a sweeping gesture towards the king; Numair flung a stream of black fire at Branaric, but it was too late. The king was raised an inch above the ground, and was thrust roughly next to Branaric. Kris lunged towards Branaric, and was only a few steps away from him when he placed a finger on the king's throat. Everyone froze.
An expression of glee was on Branaric's face. The king remained quite still, stonily expressionless.
"Now, now, no more tricks. You wouldn't want your king to be hurt, would you?" he sneered. Branaric raised his free hand, blue magic gushing out, and suddenly a wall of blue surrounded all seven of them, locking them in. It was like being trapped in the inside of a bowl.
A second wall erupted around Branaric, Kris and the king. The others outside the inner wall wouldn't be able to get to them.
A tiny dot of blue fire appeared on the tip of the finger at the king's throat. Jon winced; a trickle of blood was seeping out.
"When I return to Scanra with the head of Tortall's king, king Maggur will be so pleased…so pleased…" Branaric whispered. "And I'll go and live in luxury forever…no more hiding like a criminal in that wretched forest."
"That's because you are a criminal!" Kris snapped at him. Her exhaustion was catching up with her again, and she wanted nothing more than to get some rest. She just wished that Branaric would just release the king so that she could go and sleep.
Branaric looked around at her with mild interest. "And who might you be? A girl with bad manners, I suppose."
"You're the one with bad manners! Hasn't anyone told you it's bad manners to hold someone under threat?" Kris said hotly.
"Kris, shut up! You're endangering the king!" Numair hissed from outside the wall.
Kris ignored him. "And you better release his majesty, or else I'll…"
"Or else you'll what, girl?" Branaric sneered. "I came here with a purpose, and I'm not going to let someone, let alone a girl, block my way."
"You won't be able to get away with this!" Alanna shouted angrily.
"Why, Lioness, I'm afraid you're very much mistaken. I'm going to get away with this, and none of you will be able to stop me! And that includes you, Master Salmalin." Branaric suddenly looked very smug.
"What do you mean by that?" Numair growled.
"What I mean is, Master Salmalin, however powerful a sorcerer you are, you'll never be able to defeat a god." The arrogant tone of Branaric's voice was getting pronounced.
"I agree totally on that point." An oily voice echoed around them. Blazing silver light suddenly gleamed from beside Branaric. Everyone except Branaric and Kris looked away from the blinding light. Kris gazed calmly at the god that now stood beside the enemy mage. Slowly the light covering the god dimmed until it was bearable to look at.
This god wore the appearance of an old man wearing a plain silver cloak. Not very impressive, Kris thought. As everyone examined the god with a mixture of wonderment and confusion, Kris found she knew this god's name. "Dagoth, minor god of wagers."
Kris bowed mockingly to the god. "What a surprise seeing you here, Dagoth. I assume Branaric is part of another wager of yours."
As Branaric choked with surprise and Kris's friends blinked with puzzlement, Dagoth hid his surprise at her knowing his name well.
"You would do well to treat a god with manners, mortal girl." He said in an annoyed voice. He barely glanced at her as he spoke, instead focusing his attention on Branaric. "Well, come on, kill him! I don't have all day, you know."
Kris frowned. A god complicated things, but in this case, not much. Immediate knowledge about this god seemed to appear in her brain. Another side effect of the creesha, I suppose, Kris thought. From what her brain told her, Dagoth was in the lowest ranks of the gods, poking into affairs that were not his, and losing most of his wagers.
As her friends started to make polite protests, Kris held up her hand to stop them. Kris was reluctant about using Skyleth to threaten Dagoth, but in this situation it was necessary. Kris strode up to where Dagoth was standing impatiently.
"It might be wise to tell Branaric to release the king immediately, Dagoth." Kris said in a bored voice.
"Keep your mouth closed, mortal girl. I could kill you with a twitch of my finger." Dagoth snapped.
Kris felt her temper stirring. Why was everyone calling her a girl? She was eighteen, for goodness' sake! Forcing herself to calm down, Kris drawled, "You could, of course. I have no doubt of that." Kris lowered her voice so that only Dagoth could hear her. "But I'm afraid you'll be in a lot of trouble with the God of the Skies then."
Now, now. Why drag me into this? Skyleth's amused voice rang in her head. Kris started and looked up. Circling around outside the magical walls was Skyleth, disguised as Windclaw.
Why don't you help me out with this? Kris directed this thought to Skyleth as Dagoth narrowed his eyes and stared intently at Kris.
I won't if I don't have to, he replied.
Dagoth suddenly stiffened, eyes still on Kris. "You…you're Sky-"
"Yes, yes, I am." Kris said before he could finish his sentence.
For several silent moments, Dagoth glared at Kris. Finally, he straightened, ran a hand through his sparse hair, smoothed his cloak, and said tightly, "Well, if that's the case, I won't disturb you further. I'll go now." Dagoth glanced back at where Branaric still had his finger on Jon's throat. Both were looking extremely bewildered. "Yes…well. I have to go."
An eye-blink later Dagoth had vanished.
Relieved and suddenly exhausted again, Kris turned to Branaric. "Now will you release his majesty?"
"Never! I may have lost the backing of a god, but that doesn't matter! No one, let alone a girl, will stop me!" Branaric snarled vehemently. His eyes began to gleam madly again.
Kris felt her temper rising. She was in desperate lack of sleep, and she wasn't in the mood to deal with a lunatic mage! Kris reached for her Gift, and stopped. She had used it up already. Well, she would just use her god magic, then. Kris didn't care anymore.
Kris held out both hands. Her palms shimmered with white light. A second later, a white shield grew around the king, and long thick white vines burst out from the ground at Branaric's feet, winding around his body and trapping him.
Kris turned to the two walls separating all of them. With a single flick of her hand, the blue walls were eaten up by white fire. Numair, Daine, Raoul and Alanna rushed towards them, awe clearly in their eyes.
The shield around the king faded slowly. The five of them had just gone to check whether he was all right when there was a furious yell from the side. Kris's brief lack of attention had given Branaric a chance to escape. The vines trapping him had loosened ever so slightly, and before they could blink he had darted out.
Branaric yelled some words Kris didn't quite catch, and flung his hands in Kris's direction. A huge cloud of blue fire spitting hot sparks flew at Kris, the air around it rippling with heat.
What little patience Kris had maintained disappeared. Angrily Kris swept the cloud away, and gestured violently at Branaric.
He stiffened. Teetering for a moment, Branaric collapsed to the ground, obviously dead.
Everyone turned to stare at Kris.
"Well, my girl, you have a lot to explain." Numair said, his voice trembling slightly.
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There! The second last chapter! Do review. And I still need more ideas on what Kris should do as a minor goddess. I will appreciate all suggestions!