In the field, a wind began to blow.
All the Companions in the field felt the wind, thinking it was just that…a simple, carefree breeze. Until Rolan yelled out his message.
: All mages, to the Temple, now! :Rolan's mindcall was frantic, and open on broadcast mode, sending its message to all in the palace, even those without a hint of Mindspeech: This is Rolan! All mages are needed here NOW! Talia, you may be needed too! NO ONE ELSE is to come! :
Immediately, Companions began rushing to the doors opening out into Companion's Field, as a number of Heralds poured out and leapt onto their Companion's back. A stream of Companions surged towards the Temple, as black clouds began to obscure the sky and the wind emanating from the Grove intensified.
Heralds Dirk and Talia came running out. As they both leapt astride Ahrodie, Dirk's Companion, Dirk took advantage of his Lifebond with Talia and Mindsent Rolan, asking about the reason for this – intrusion into their time.
: Its an emergency. Anarien needs to get to her chosen and Elspeth is trying to build a gate. She can't, it'll kill her so soon after the storms! :
: How's Gwena taking this? :
: Not very well. She's our only child and She's her Chosen! :
Feeling very worried as he relayed Rolan's speech to Talia, Dirk instinctively hugged her close.
Finally, they arrived at the temple.
By this time, the wind had picked up to unimaginable standards, and rain had started lashing down. Thunder boomed and lightning flashed across the sky, as the Herald-mage prepared to cast the Gate.
Over the storm, a voice could dimly be heard.
" I call upon the Portal…"
Thunder exploded literally above them, as a Lightning bolt flashed and struck the temple right at its centre. Yet, before it reached the ground, the swirling energies around the temple held it, transmuted it…
And in a flash of light, the swirling blackness into the Void appeared.
Even with the awesome power of the storm backing her, the portal could not be sustained. Elspeth felt it draining life-energy from her. Desperate, she tapped into the Palace Heartstone for resources. She couldn't draw out enough, and she fell to her knees. It was too much for her, who had never even been to the place she was gating to, and using a totally unfamiliar form of magic…
Just then, Gwena rode over, carrying a very wet, very undignified Firesong, sans mask. Cursing, the Tale'edras adept tumbled ungraciously to the ground, linked with the prostrate Herald and poured power into her. He mentally yelled at her as he established and secured the link between them
: I thought we agreed that it was too early to build a Gate! Look at what you've done, this may set back our progress by years! :
: Sorry…it is necessary…:
: Not enough to justify having you killed or drained to a lifeless shell! I'm ending this right now! :
He tried to take over the link, to close the gate, but found, to his shock, that it was controlled by the Companion next to her, not she herself.
Its not possible! They aren't Lifebonded or anything, they aren't even bonded! Realisation came. Oh great. This HAS to be what the Empire mages do, only in reverse. Totally unfamiliar with the style of magic, he could do naught but hang on and feed in power.
He felt himself losing, giving up, and with no nodes to sustain him and access to the Heartstone severely limited, he almost collapsed. Just in time, he felt a surge of power as all the Companions in Haven entered the meld, and many of the newer Herald-mages joining in. Together, they poured power into the darkness of the Gate...
Finally, with a bright flash, the Gate found its destination, and the darkness melted into the scene of a bustling town, in broad daylight as opposed to the evening of Haven, with a young man of about sixteen standing before it.
The young man flushed angrily, and raised his hands, energy gathering around him, as Anarien bounded through the gate.
Learath was taking a walk outside the Fortress. In the town, people warily avoided him, sensing his desire for being alone. This was fostered by the pale shield that glimmered around him, distorting the air. The old men pointed and shook their heads at the youngest son of their lord, muttering about ungratefulness and generally 'children nowadays. In my day…'
Walking along the main road, lost in thought, Learath abruptly felt a surge of Mage-energy manifest in front of him. As he looked up, startled, the air shimmered, and a Gate appeared. On the other sides stood a large number of men and women, most white-clad, with an entire herd of strange white horses.
What was this?
Thinking it was an attack, he quickly readied spells that would call storms of power upon those in the gate. His father may be evil, and his siblings, but these were his people and he would protect them!
His heart sank as he looked on. He knew that he would never be able to hold them, as all of men there were adepts and even the horses- no; they had to be demons- had their own aura of power. They would crush him, and move on to kill his people. There was only one way he could see to counter them.
Final Strike.
He strengthened his resolve. If he died here in Final Strike, sending his energy into the Gate, it might be enough to overwhelm the other mages, close the gate, and perhaps save his people. He hoped this would expedite the crime of killing all those innocents.
He smiled bleakly, and reached for the energy welling from him, taking it and shaping it.
Elspeth saw the young man's shields go down.
: What the…what's he doing?:
Just then, the young mage began to glow, a dull, eerie, pulsing red. He faced the gate, and as he did so…
: Take cover!: Gwena abruptly 'yelled'. : Anarien, run! That's a Final Strike!:
Anarien, paying no attention, walked up to the mage and looked him steadily in the eye.
Learath stared at the horse. It was beautiful! From the curve of its flank to the sweep of its mane to the blue of its eyes…
Blue eyes?
Learath felt himself falling, falling, falling into a clear blue world, bathed in light, love, and acceptance, filled with peace and love till he was full and brimming over. He returned that love with need, and love of his own, and filled and was filled until the intense sharing was regretfully, slowly, broken.
He almost cried. He had experienced the joy of Paradise intimately, but now they were lost to him again.
Just then, a voice rang in his mind, full of love and acceptance.
: I am Anarien. You are my chosen, Learath, and I love you. I will never leave you, and you will never be alone again.:
: But how…look out!:
With that mental shout, Learath threw herself in front of Anarien, a mage shield glowing around him as a swarm of blood-red Levin-bolts swarmed from an open doorway close by.
: Oh crap, my shield will not be able to take this for long, and there no way to replenish my power…:
: here: he felt Anarien 'throw' him a line, and a cool, gentle blue power flowed through the connection. The overtones of his shield also faded from a dark, angry red to a purple shade as the two powers mingled.
: What kind of energy is this? Its so different…:
: Oh my goodness, Hydatha's tits! : Learath was so startled by the curse that he almost dropped the spell. : You're a blood mage! No, wait…no, you aren't. but then why is your energy that colour? : the horse's 'voice' sounded worried.
: I'll explain later…here they come !:
The shield held, but barely. Working together, Learath and his Companion neutralised the bolts streaking at them. When the bolts were gone, Learath jumped onto Anarien's back, hands glowing with the last of his own power, ready to unleash their force at whoever attacked them. They faced the open doorway.
The Lord of the Fortress of the Estolans, the Ma'ar Falconsbane Estolan himself stepped out, flanked by his two other offspring.
Lord Estolan spoke. " Good job, Learath."
" What? What did I do?"
" I see you've captured a White Demon. Very good, one less in the world means that one less source of evil is here." Lord Estolan spoke wearily, as if explaining things to a simpleton.
Learath stared. Surely he couldn't mean that, to sacrifice Anarien at the altar?
Lord Estolan spoke again, irritated. "Come on, Learath, and close the Gate. You wouldn't want others to get through, would you? Now GIVE ME THAT DEMON!"
The last was so filled with power that Learath had even begun gathering the reins and handing them over before he knew what he was doing. He stopped immediately once he realised it.
Or at least, he tried to.
His father's command had apparently carried a powerful coercion spell with it. Although Learath was fighting it, he knew that he would lose eventually. He would hand over the control of Anarien, and he would lose her forever…
:Never!:
All of a sudden, Learath found his body under control again. Without thinking, he whirled his Companion, ignoring his kin's sudden shout of surprise, and rode through the gate.
As he was riding into the Gate, a burst of power rushed towards him, overloading his shields. He screamed, as a thousand needles stabbed him, losing consciousness as he fell off his Companion on the other side of the closed Gate.
