Fantasy RPG Forum - Standing Trials

Sometimes Sephira felt like two people; both the dutiful soldier and the inquisitive mage. For the last few seasons she had spent far too much time in her role as an Element, so for the first time in a long time she allowed herself a moment to relish in her natural curiosity. She nodded mutely at Hookor’s comment about the oddness of the tree. Whatever it was, it was likely not natural to the area. Perhaps it was the work of magic, spirits or even Immortals but this was not something of mortal making as far as she could discern.

The mage considered the wistful thought of stepping inside the door herself. She had her magic, and the best chance of returning if something went wrong; granted that was only if magic worked inside the strange place. However, before she was able to offer this option Sephira was knocked back by a savage wind.
“Rand’s breeches!” She whispered in awe at the torrent of colorful strands of light. The wind tore at her crimson coat and hair, forcing her back a step. Ether blazed within her Spark as she quickly created a crimson glowing skystep to steady her right leg and gave herself something to press into against the wind. Sephira’s witchmark was radiant once again, her irises glowing bright red as she stared silently into the cascade of color.

The colors were beautiful and entrancing, they made her feel alive again...excited...and enamored by their enigmatic nature. The colors themselves reminded her of Frequencies since they each reverberated unique sounds. The purple was deep and calm, and the green whistled with excitement but the red strand screamed and screeched as if it pain. It was a perceived pain that Sephira felt empathy for. The Element had experienced a great deal of pain and guilt over the past two seasons and, there had been moments when she had wanted to scream and cry like that bright scarlet strand, but instead she had kept it buried deep within. Without realizing it the mage reached for that strand of red light with right her right hand outstretched.

The tips of her fingers reached out, almost without her realizing until she had made contact with the strange scarlet ribbon of radiant color. It swirled around her hand, up her arm and then around her body. The mage stared in wonder as the color wrapped around her as if it were examining her. It may have felt benign at first but then the swirl of red began to constrict around her form, engulfing her fully as if it wanted to smother her. Panic bubbled to the forefront of Sephira’s mind and her Rupturing spark seemingly seized in her chest, her emotions sending reverberations of fear and terror into the alien entity that was fused with her soul.

She was blind, or at least all she could see was that single color; red. It consumed her vision and obscured everything around her. Sephira could no longer feel where she was in space and that thought petrified her. A Rupturer always knew where they were, they knew exactly where they stood on their two feet, but now she had no bearing, no hope of finding out where she was. With the pain reverberating against her skin, Sephira couldn’t even be certain that she was still standing on the islet, or if she was seizing on the ground. All she could see and feel was the color surrounding her.

Suddenly a chilling thought entered her mind as her Spark trembled with the echoes of her fear. Sephira’s Rupturing spark had acted on it’s on in the past depending on her emotional state. When she was afraid it would attempt to Blink her to another location. The mage could feel her Spark hungrily grasping for ether, writhing in an attempt to create a rift in space. This was beyond dangerous, if it created a portal that was poorly made because of her mental state she could be sheared in half. At least then her death would be quick, or it could succeed and dump her in the nearby river, effectively drowning her. The mage rallied in that one tiny corner of her mind that she had left. The scalding frozen pain tore at the rest of her mind, but in this insignificant little crack of her consciousness she could cling to sanity and try to rein in her Spark.

Sephira tried to focus on controlling her fear. She could deal with the pain, even if it stripped her of her lucidity, but she needed to cast aside her fear. If she could feel pain, then she was still alive; the maddening torturous pain at least meant that she was still breathing.

With lungs that she could barely feel, the woman began focusing on her haggard breathing, trying to get her emotions under control.

Breath in, breath out.

Inhale, exhale.

The commands cycled through her chaotic mind, keeping her just conscious enough to hold back her Spark. Ever since the cult attack and her Spark losing control in that underground chamber Sephira had worked to improve her control over it. This was the ultimate test.....had she learned enough to keep it at bay?

The bits that followed felt like a millennia, pain and screaming that sent hot tears down her face. Why had she touched that damned red strand? Were Rowan, Kura, Amaris and the others still alive? These thoughts kept her from going completely mad. She had people to protect, people to live for. Who else would threaten Rowan if she didn’t survive?

Without any indication the crimson hue began to fade from her vision, the color itself seeming to seep into the fabric of Sephira’s skin. The mage felt raw and newborn, as if she had been baptized in pure liquid Ether and then set aflame. Something had changed, something in the very depths of her soul.

The Flame Element couldn’t be quite sure what that ‘something’ was until she managed to open her eyes and look upon the skin of her hands and arms. Radiant, glowing runic markings in the same crimson that had consumed her now decorated her skin. The runes were strange and alien, written in large circles and swirling over her arms, hands, across her torso and over her right shoulder. Sephira stared at them aghast, unable to speak as the markings began to grow darker and lose their luminescence, turning a matte red. Something told her that these markings might work similar to her witchmark, lighting up only when she drew ether into her Sparks.

The mage silently found her feet, crawling up and looking around at the others with a troubled expression.

“Is everyone alright?” Sephira asked with a croaking voice. Moving to help anyone near her that needed assisting getting to their feet.

It was then that the soldier turned slowly to face the tree. The strange magic that had sent it cascading back and forth through the seasons was now absent, it was a simple mundane tree now. Had they sealed the source of the strange happenings in Sweetwine woods or not? Only time would tell.