Silvanus and Empire, an Original Novel (Chapter Twenty-Four)
Welcome back to Silvanus and Empire, the only fantasy novel on Steemit written by a recovering chocoholic. In our last chapter Lyrinn woke from sleep, only to discover the nightmare she was living was all too real. Now, let's return to what she and her mother have been up to since then...
Lyrinn sat down heavily. The backs of her eyes ached, and her shoulders were knotted like planks of wood. Her sweat-soaked hair hung limp. She heaved a sigh and leaned back against the bole of a tree behind her.
"Mother," she said, panting. She caught her breath. "The more I push, the harder it seems to get. Are you sure this is how Father did it? It seems so... exhausting."
"I know, my dear, but you mustn't give up. You are so terribly close to bending the forces of nature to your will." Spirit-of-Vengeance knelt down next to Lyrinn and handed her a waterskin.
The younger Silvani took it with a grateful smile. Pulling out the stopper, Lyrinn drank deep. She let some more splash down on her upturned face.
"Oh, goodness," she murmured. "That's better." She replaced the stopper and handed it back. "Thank you. Mother, was Father this tired every time he bent the forest to his will? It seems like so much effort for, well, for so little." She gestured to the clearing in front of her to a shallow, three-foot long furrow in the grass. New earth was turned up on either side, matting the thick grass. "For all the time I spent glaring at that spot and ordering it to split, I could have dug a trench by hand five times as long and twice as deep! The ground just... wouldn't listen."
Spirit was silent for a moment. She stared out at the small fissure, then spoke: "You need to embrace the more primal aspects of your nature. Your father always came quickest to his call when he channeled strong emotions through it. Happiness, joy, sadness, grief - " She turned to look at Lyrinn. " - and even hate. Put your passion behind your thoughts. Think of Hammerfist, my daughter. Take your grief over his death - and the rage of your own betrayal. Pour those emotions out of you and direct them at your target." Her voice grew hard. "Do it. Now."
Lyrinn clambered to her feet. She pushed her hair out of her face, balled up her fists, and walked a dozen paces into the clearing. Taking a deep breath, she focused her gaze on the pitiful trench from before. She gathered all the emotions that had been raging inside her over the past day and a half - terror and confusion from her abduction, joy from finding her mother alive, the twin horrors of Caddoc's betrayal and Hammerfist's murder - and focused her will to a bright, infinitely small point... and pushed.
A cold wind rose, whipping through the clearing and ruffling the two women's hair and clothes. Along the horizon, far-off clouds began to gather, swirling and thickening, forming in concentric swirls with the clearing as their epicenter. blotting out the sun. A chorus of fluttering wings split the silence as countless birds fled in all directions.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. The air grew heavy and thick, charged with an actinic tang, and the ground beneath Lyrinn's feet began to thrum like a vast, racing heartbeat. A bolt of lightning arced across the sky and the grass in the center of the clearing began to curl, fading from yellow to brown to burned black. The earth bucked, and the clearing split in two, sending a fountain of dirt and rocks flying high into the air, swirling in a cyclone like leaves caught in the wind.
Abruptly as it began, it was over. Lyrinn fell to her knees, chest heaving, dripping with sweat; the cyclone disappeared, sending detritus raining down around her. The clouds began to clear, and once again the spring sun shone.
Lyrinn felt the strong arms of her mother wrap themselves around her. "My darling girl," she heard Spirit whisper into her ear. "You have done it. We are saved. None can stand in our way." Again a feeling of giddy, suffocating warmth washed over the younger woman, battering at her senses and overwhelming her.
Spirit pulled Lyrinn to her feet, her grip almost painfully strong. "Come, let us return to camp - you are nearly spent. Oh, but let us rejoice!" Her eyes flashed; if Lyrinn had the strength to summon, she would have recoiled from her mother's feral grin.
It was all Lyrinn could do but to lean heavily on Spirit as they turned away from the ruined, blackened clearing. Rejoice, she thought. Rejoice at what? She looked back over her shoulder. What have I become?
This just keeps getting better and better. I can't wait for the moment that Lyrinn figures out what Spirit is actually doing - assuming Spirit even is her mother in the first place.
Yeah maybe i should get around to writing that part.
Kidding! It's written out, I promise. ;)