Pillars Of Grace - The God Pillars Trilogy - Book 1

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No matter how hard she tried, no matter how far she scrambled backwards, Miraveh could not escape what she had done. The remains of the Karline covered her. Smothered her. She choked upon blood that had entered her mouth as she screamed her defiance at the man, her hatred. She had torn him apart. Nothing remained but viscera and blood. So much blood.

She heard herself moaning, crying. She could feel her head shaking, drips of blood tossed from her like drops of scarlet rain, and then she felt something press upon her back. A wall. Fingers of one hand dug into the dust of the street but, in her other hand, she felt something else. Something digging into her palm and, as she unfurled her fingers, she let the relic fall from her shaking hand. She reached for that hand with her other, trying to stop the shaking, but it would not stop.

A noise distracted her and her head whipped around to see another fireball erupt into the sky but, along with that fireball, she saw a golden light reaching up to the cloudless sky. Strong. Defiant. The Candidate still lived and Miraveh had revealed herself too soon. Without her magic suppressed, she could feel it all. No wielder of magic was beyond her ability to sense them and now she felt several sources of magic coming closer.

As though learning to stand for the first time, she reached up for something to support her, her legs shaking as much as her hands, her heart racing. In a daze, she reached down for the sword that had become dislodged from her fingers as she crashed into the Karline and it took several attempts before her fingers closed tight enough around the leather-bound hilt.

The sources of magic were nearing. She had to move, had to force herself to move. This was not the place to make her stand. Enclosed. Nowhere to hide, or to escape. The open space of the square she had chosen to make her stand stood only a couple of streets away, but she had to hide her magic. Her mind clouded, in turmoil, confused and terrified, she wrinkled her forehead as she tried to suppress her magic.

For something that had become second nature to her, she found great difficulty in hiding her power now. As she stumbled away, a trail of blood following in her wake, she fought to suppress her magic until, eventually, she felt the presence of magic fade from her mind. For once she did not feel certain she could maintain her control over that magic. Not since she had first attempted it had it felt so difficult, but she managed it. For now.

There was little she could do about the blood, nor about her trembling legs finding it hard to even walk. With every step, her mind flashed back to that one, horrific moment. One second, the Karline pressed his body weight upon her, the next he had disappeared in a fog of red. She couldn't even remember seeing bones in the remains.

The corner of a building bit into her shoulder as she fell against it. Down this alley and she would find the place. The open space amid the warehouses and business premises of Comragon. Behind, she heard roars of anguish and outrage as her pursuers found what little remained of their comrade and Miraveh felt a swell of nausea rush through her. She turned her head and retched and then she felt her fist strike the nearby wall.

This was not helping. This self-flagellation. This regret and guilt and terror at what she had done. Alran would not have suffered so, not in the moment. He, her mentor and friend, would have tucked all those feelings away. He would have suffered, drowned in his fears and guilts, but only after he had completed his task.

Yusuvur would not have thought twice about it. Any of it. She would never second-guess herself. Yusuvur would never have allowed anything to get in her way, not even, especially not, her own feelings. They were a millstone about her neck that she would not tolerate. For all that Miraveh hated about Yusuvur, she needed that determination. That disconnection from humanity.