Here is a continuance from yesterday, step by step by step.
Story of Mages – 🙂
After a splash of salty water to his face and neck, he removed the bedraggled holy Tempe, revealing a set underneath of curtly shorn black leather, light armor. Buttons and pockets made up most of the armor’s surface, each one pregnant and jutting with a Wyrm’s tools. Carbon reached in, bringing out a polished and carved orb that looked like a peeled tangerine.
If Bayaen was right, Carbon couldn’t any longer wait to begin his preparations for battle. He hoped beyond hope the Kel’ would not seek to test his mettle, not only for the sake of his diminishing innocence. Carbon had seen the renditions of the Pillar Wars on memorials around the city.
“Pyrum Examene,” he breathed. The Sonus flowed into his hand like a weeping fall of molten iron, first slow, then altogether way too rapidly heating and weighing down the veins in his arm. The glow of a campfire’s blaze banished any lingering wet in the nest like it’d directly been set aflame. The sound of Carbon’s gasps and the crinkle of drying wood was accompanied by the everpresent Pillar chimes and a new, duller tone.
He had to flex hard as the tangerine glommed his fingers to it’s surface like melting cement. As the flame grew to unimaginable temperatures Carbon could see the glow of his bones through the light, then even that became too much.
No matter what, though, Carbon would not let go.
Never Again would he let the flame go beyond his control.
Now that his Sonus had been released from the stone, there was no way to stop it from exploding and burning them all except by absorbing the totality of it’s radiating magic. As this stone was charged by him, there was no way he couldn’t handle it’s flame.
After another second he felt the heat reach something deep within his chest, his heart. His next breath was framed by a blue plasma like a flowing cut of translucent blue Tempe.
Then the Saubelle sputtered and cracked, the runic phalanges at its center losing their internal glow. The once polished stone was now a pitted and porous pumice. It died making a sound like a poorly made firework, turning to particles of sand that drifted to sublimate in the ocean air.
The sensation of enacting his magic made Carbon feel like all the liquid’s in his body were drying out and burning up. Tears never showed, boiling and scalding his skin from within as they burned a path of dark tracks. All the muscles in his face and torso had become taut, the thoughts in his head quieted. He realized a knob of stone was poking his back along a poorly placed pocket, and took another Saubelle out, holding one in each hand as he thrummed with withheld power.
Carbon’s eyesight now pierced the hanging mists, seeing for the first time the Pillars of Journaea.
“The Pillars are in sight! Ready to weigh the anchors!” Bayaen’s voice came from starboard.
He can see them too? I’d guessed him this whole time to be using sound, like the rest of us. There is obviously more to this first mate than immediately meets the eye. Then again he is a sailor…
In the absence of the surf’s groaning cacophony, Journaea seemed to once again calm. A mist cloud was encroaching into the path of the rising sun, like a glacier but already incisive blades of reflected dawn played on the sea. Carbon could see the legendary chains chiming and clashing against each other at their meeting with the pulling waves of the ocean.
But before Carbon could enjoy the sight any longer, a shadow like a kite the size of Sinistraea’s sail was exposed to him underneath the surf in a sunbeam, just 10 armspans away from the ship. Too close for Bayaen to notice without diving over the gunwale, the rhomboidal beast seemed to be surfacing.
Without a thought Carbon spoke the trigger to the second Saubelle, and threw it into the dying storm currents just beyond The Sinistraea’s hull.