Dark Queen: The Cybelline Prophecies

Chapter 45

Dycathion

She stood alone in front of the great tower, her hands glowing with power, her ivory robes brushing the manicured grass of the royal gardens. From her, power sank itself into the tower, renewing the protective spells set in centuries past.

A fine sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead, but there was no sense of panic on the ever serene face. Instead, only a deep look of concentration shone in her blue eyes.

"She is perfection itself." The Grand mage murmured in awe. He and the rest of mages felt it. He had reached the zenith of his abilities and he was one of the lucky ones. What the Lady of Light was doing would usually take all of the mages in the city and then some.

"Do you think one day we'll have that much power?" One of the novice asked?

One of the acolyte shook his head, "Our magical abilities were determined at birth, some have more capacity for magic while others have less. Once you become an apprentice you will get tested."

"If you're really lucky and kill a fae, you could increase your capacity for magic." Another of the acolytes said, "but that's so rare now a days."

The rumbling seemed to calm down under her power. The Lady stopped her spell and a light mage apprentice immediate sprang forward to her side. She took the proffered handkerchief with a smile.

King Lunis came forward, "Thank you, Revered Lady."

The Lady of Light nodded, "I've placed more binding spells on the tower, it will hold for another thousand years."

"Of course, Lady, please rest, we have purified your temples. We beg that you stay with us for a while." The King bowed and the Lady graciously accepted.

The Land within the Ring

Cybelline felt as if she was a raisin, sucked dry of any moisture. She ignored the pain and worked to grip the slippery magic within her body. It was like reaching into the ocean and trying to braid the waves.

Sheer willpower and an unerring concentration that had been forged in the depths of war supported her. Carefully, she spoke the spell that the spirit had taught her, feeling for her magic that had woven itself into the Source and calling on it to obey her.

The strands thrashed in her control but she would not let it go, holding onto the warring powers until they stopped struggling in her grasp. She imagined the powers as different streams that fed into a great river, forcing them to flow in a path she chose.

Slowly, the magic which she had tamed but not conquered began to obey her command. From the multicolored ribbon that it had been when she created it, each power separated until they became seven different streams of power, flowing in her veins where her blood had been, until they filled each and every cell of her body with power.

It was a slow and painful process, forcing the power to do what she wanted. Cybelline knew that she had perhaps taken the first step towards controlling her immense power.

You are doing well child. The voice encouraged, this step would have taken a human novice at least ten years to learn. It is the most basic step of controlling your power.

"Does this mean I can use my power at will?" Cybelline grunted, controlling so much was exhausting, if not extremely painful. 

Far from it. The voice broke through her daydream mercilessly. It is enough to feed your power into the books. You could still break the world if you used your powers on the outside.

"Why?" Cybelline asked. 

The voice sounded mysterious, and perhaps, a little smug. You'll see. Feed your power to the books.