A Touch Of Lightning (COMPLETED!)

Chapter 77 Chaos Approaching

She opened her eyes, still able to see the great, massive swirls of power even through the stone walls of the palace she was in. And now, she could see it forming into shapes, shifting about just above the walls of the city, anxious and darting shapes, seeking release from whatever controlled it. She stared in stunned wonder seeing the shapes coalesce, seeing them take definition.

An army of hundreds of thousands of soldiers, all forged out of that vicious, seething gray power, stretching out of sight, floating in the air like statues of impeccable detail. Once every last line of power had tightened down into shape, the entire army suddenly flared brightly.

It was a cutting light, so wrong, so foul, that Raina cried out and fell to the floor, shielding her eyes. Trying to shield her very core. And then the light was gone.

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On an empty plain of endless gray, a being as old as Time itself lifted its head. It knew perfect patience, it had set the keys in place long ago. Now, the puppets on its web danced to open its cage. The puppets on two worlds moving unknowingly to their final end.

It lifted its gaze to the sky, watching its Wolf walk unerringly toward the tear in its eternal Prison. Soon, very soon, it would be free.

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The two candles sat in their holders on the floor in the middle of the small, dusty room. Their light was fitful, swaying about from the slight drafts that teased at their flames, making Carmen's shadow dart about, a black scar upon the light in the room. Carmen sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, clad only in shorts and a halter top, eyes shut. Trying to ignore the awareness of her own shadow.

Mother had told her to make the two flames become one. Not using her body. With her eyes shut. Carmen felt like growling in frustration. She wasn't really even much of a telepath, certainly not one good enough to move something as intangible as fire.

"Two flames, one on each side of you. Bring them together and they blend. You see two flames become one, you realize they were always one, even though they were separate. Do it now." Mother's last words before she had closed the door and walked away.

Somehow, Carmen knew this was a critical test. If she didn't pass this test, she would be cast out. She didn't know how she knew this, but she held no doubts she was right. She tried to remember Ahleena's teachings, how to center and focus yourself, your inner energy. Her thoughts shied back away from memories of Ahleena, burning with pain and rage. Searing with guilt at the memories of Callin that came flooding back with those memories.

Did he hate her now? Was he perhaps hunting her, like she knew he would someday hunt and kill those who had enslaved and tortured him? She felt tears slide down her cheeks, and clenched her fists. She hated tears. She had vowed so many years ago never to cry again. That she would be the one to cause others to cry, but never again let herself be that vulnerable again.

She had vowed to always be ready to fall back to that side of her, that dark, ugly aspect where her powers had turned inside out and she had become an Unweaver, so powerful in her rage, if ever she was made to be so vulnerable.

Well, she had honored that vow, no matter that it had ripped her heart into less than dust and scattered it on the winds of apathy. She had cast Callin's link away, unable to let him see that darkness in her heart of hearts, unable to face it herself again. And in these past few weeks, she hadn't just embraced that side of her, she had become it.

And now she knew it had been eating her alive ever since that day so long ago, where the little girl had embraced the ability to hurt instead of heal.

She snapped her eyes open and glared at the flames, finding a focus for her hurt and her rage in their flickering depths. Her hands clenched ever tighter, her eyes began to glitter, casting their own cold, golden light out into the darkness, and the flames began to bow under immense pressure. The floor creaked under her, the rafters shivered slightly, dust motes sifting down to swirl around like miniscule stars of discordance, and a faint golden halo began to shimmer just above her skin. Gold light devoid of all warmth. Visible power poised to rend chaos wherever it was directed.

Who was she? Was she that little girl, that innocent girl with healer's hands, only wanting to help others? That one so open and vulnerable that she was less than a morsel on a stick before the demons of this world, to be misused like a cheap tool?

Or was she this hollow, empty thing, walking through the world with hatred on side and rage on the other, holding her up and holding her down? A girl become a demon of pain, of undoing, of Unweaving?

The thought of living so evil, so wrong, still hurt. It was not who she wanted to be. It was not who she felt she should be. And yet, she knew she would never again allow herself to be so used, so tortured. She knew it as a concrete truth, just as she knew she would prefer to heal and help others.

As she stared at the twin flames, she knew why she had rejected Callin. She couldn't bear the idea of him seeing what she had become. She couldn't bear the idea of him seeing how she'd given in to the rage. He had suffered enough, he had seen enough.

She knew, then, that if she lived this way, if she embraced only the Chaos, the Unweaver, inside of her, she would never be able to help him. To heal him. And she realized she was both. She was an Unweaver on one side, when necessary, and a healer, a weaver, on the other.

This truth rose up before her mind, reaching ever higher, stretching beyond the limits of her understanding, showing her it was infinite. It was truly who she was. And she gasped as the two flames gently lifted off the top of the candles and fused together in front of her, floating in mid-air, steady and bright and warm.

An echoing warmth, an echoing bright, steady feeling, began to spread throughout her. A healing. A Blending. And every one of her memories came crashing into her mind. All of the happy and good times. And every last, wicked, hate-filled time.

She felt herself tense up at this unexpected flood of such intense power, but then she found herself smiling and accepting it. The flames flickered out and she closed her eyes, allowing her mind to sink fully into her past. Learning herself all over again.

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In the gray emptiness the Great being saw one of its broken locks suddenly weave back together. It threw back its head and screamed, a depthless rage, an endless twisting coil of pure hatred. And from its mouth a Worm rose to the sky, waving about, seeking the crack in the walls of its Prison.