Dark Queen: The Cybelline Prophecies

Chapter 45

Cybelline concentrated at the task at hand, taking her streams of power and carefully connected it to the blood words - her blood, in the books.

Upon meeting her power, the books seemed to be unquenchable. Cybelline felt the pull of her power as it started to fill each page.

Don't let it pull too much, if you overwhelm it with your magic, the books will be destroyed. All of this will be for naught! The voice warned. 

Cybelline nodded, she controlled the pace that the magic filled the words.

One page, three, ten, twenty. It was painstaking but when the first book was full of her magic, there was a ripping sound as a black liquid poured from the binding.

Three days passed this way, three slow, painful days as Cybelline filled one book after another. Black liquid poured from each book, the stuff hissing as it evaporated and left deep burns on the earth.

When the final book was filled with her magic, the books glowed gold, the color of her magic.

They rose into the air, spinning faster and faster until their form melted into a gold liquid that solidified into a thin golden bracelet. On it was a single ruby and five little divots that seemed to be placeholders for other stones. It landed in her hand. Cybelline had succeeded.

Cybeline examined the thin bracelet, feeling cooling effect it had in her hand. Gently she touched the ruby.

The fire magic in her body, one of the seven uncontrollable streams suddenly became docile as a lamb. It no longer burned in her veins as the other magics did, rather, it now help sooth the burden of magic in her bones. She took a deep breathe, the pain of magic seemed to have lessened in her body.

Perhaps there is hope for our race after all. The voice seemed to be in awe.

Then, suddenly, the Tower Spirit screamed in pain. A blood curdling cry that raised the hair on anyone's arm to hear it.

Cybelline felt the pain and anguish in the scream.

"What's happening?"

Someone's activated the spell in the tower. The voice said, exhausted. In using this spell, I have used the last of my magic to talk to you. In a few moments I will be forever imprisoned there.

"I can come find you." Cybelline said. "Tell me what to do."

No, don't. I will try and find a way to die, I know too many secrets about our race and as long as the humans are in power we are not safe.

The Tower struggled against the bonds of human magic, You are strong but there is a long road ahead. You have magic but not enough control, and I can not ask you to sacrifice everything to help a dying race, please stay hidden. It's voice was fading.

Cybelline was reminded her of her training days when she was still a child. She remembered the voices of the other children, ones she could not save. They sounded just like this spirit. Lost, hopeless, and in hell.

Her brows furrowed as she felt the magic of the Tower Spirit leave.

"Oh hell no." She said. Quickly, with her new control over fire magic she commanded her magic to follow the departing magic of the Tower Spirit.

She sank her power into the magic of the Tower Spirit. She could feel it, the thin line of magic that connected all the way back to the spirit in the tower, the heart of the castle in Dycathion.

And then she started pulling.

Dycathion

The capitol was beside itself with joy as it celebrated the arrival of the Lady of Light. In her honor, the city became a magnificent bloom of flowers and dancing. Minstrels strumed their lutes, singing ballads of The Lady of Light's Heroism as people danced in the streets.