So many hours of light and warmth give Ace more of an excuse to spend the day outside, and she spends most of it practicing football drills, both to improve in the hopes of continuing to beat Wells, and also to try and wear herself out for once.
It's a gorgeous day, really. Everything's green and growing, the sun sparkles off the ripples in the lake, the shark pops up every once in a while, and it's deliciously warm.
Thus, the white shows up starkly, an almost painful contrast against the beauty of the day. Ace pauses to watch Blodwen warily. Don't antagonize, they've warned. Don't challenge her.
Ace tries to look calm and relaxed, even if she tensed at the first word, the hair at the back of her neck standing on end. Of course she would have that smile that always seems to bypass every conscious thought and triggers the need to take Blodwen apart.
"Yeah. S'warm." Polite. She has to be polite. If she managed to live with Gem's constant needling for fifty years, she can take the white bitch's presence for a few minutes.
"High summer," she muses aloud, and oh, but the soft cruel delight in those simple words is clear. "Warm indeed, of course -- but winter will come soon enough after."
Midsummer is still a few days off, and the Light's power has not quite reached true ascendency. But that cannot be helped, not when there is open conflict between the Dark and the Wild Magic outside the bar where the rules against outside business do not properly apply.
Merriman is first out the door, and not half a dozen paces from the door he stops so short that he nearly overbalances. One arm goes out, a silent and unquestionable command to the others to go no further.
Raven has a legitimate right of confrontation in this. And there is also the consideration that for those of the Light to intervene now, with all of the magic that is churning around Raven and the White Rider, could do incalculable harm with no real certainty of doing good.
'Not yet,' he hisses between his teeth, his expression taut with the strain of having to check his natural response to act. 'Approach -- but do not strike.'
Behind Merriman, Bran Davies runs, trying not to let the scabbarded sword belted about his waist bump into his legs. Even now, with Wild Magic hissing and sparking against the Dark in the air, he is still Bran Davies. He holds tightly to what he knows as himself
(a small neat room in a small neat cottage just off Cadfan's Way, a hillside with John and Owen and Lluchddu guiding the sheep, a yellow rose in the gardens of the Lost Land, a king leading his queen out into a sunlit land)
as the Hunter wakes in the bottom of his mind. So it is that Bran stops short when Merriman commands it. Then, listening to the Hunter, but not letting it take control, Bran paces slowly towards the confrontation.
Will is poised like a hunting dog behind Merriman, all his senses flung wide. The icy jolt that lanced through the scar on his wrist has faded, and when Merriman moves again Will paces silently behind him, taut and fierce-eyed.
The fathomless, inhumanly ravenous hating that is the Dark presses against his mind, and all around is the sound of Raven's laughter, high and wild like the cawing of birds or the barking of dogs, far-off.
There is so much magic in flux that is it difficult to breathe properly, and every move requires conscious thought -- and then the shriek that suddenly rends the air sends all of Merriman's senses ringing with alarm. For as the Dark that was within Blodwen Rowlands loses its host, it rises from her to coalesce in the air above her, a writhing mass of ancient, ageless malevolence that has been unwillingly deprived of a physical form.
Without that physical form to hold it together, to contain and channel the hatred and the need to destroy, there is nothing to prevent it from striking out all at once, at anything within reach. And there is still enough of the mind of Blodwen Rowlands within that churning force to exert an influence over it, to direct it at her natural targets.
She has come hurrying out the lake door in the wake of Merriman, Bran and Will-- who all slow at Merriman's command, watching the battle as they approach.
Moiraine does not slow, however. Instead, a golden glow explodes into being around her as the Aes Sedai moves swiftly to one side, for she has noticed something else.
A shining white-gold band of Air spun with Earth goes flying from her fingertips, wrapping carefully around the wire of the cage and drawing it towards her, away from the White Rider.
The little bundle of feathers doesn't move as the cage goes skidding away from the battle, other then the quick little rise and fall of little-bird breathing. She's a rather pathetic sight at this point, her feathers sticking up at random where water and wind ruffled and seperated them.
As the cage goes flying once again, Ace's little talons wrap around one of the slender silver wires, hanging on for dear life.
"Light," she mutters, cradling the cage carefully in her hands and studying the bird inside, after a quick glance for the battle and the others.
"What manner of creature are you to have invoked her wrath so?" The gleaming wire feels oily with the taint of Shadow, making it very clear to the Aes Sedai as to the source of the prison that had been lying near the Rider.
Oh glory be, the cage isn't moving. Ace has had quite enough of the cage moving. Bright black eyes open cautiously to take in... blue. Lots and lots of blue.
Wrath Ace agrees in a mournful little chirp. She thought feathers were supposed to be warm. It's freezing in this silver prison.
Newly unleashed from the constraints of a previous form, nevertheless something in the roiling furious void of mist and blackness that is the Dark made manifest here in this place recognizes those who have opposed it before --
--and then it falls out of the sky and upon them with the weight and pressure of millennia and madness, seeking to crush and destroy its enemies.
He'd not planned on coming out at all. It's not a question of cowardice or of fear - it's a question on not raising a hand against a powerful enemy who already had him quite under her thumb. It wasn't that he thought Merriman couldn't battle her.
It simply wouldn't be wise for him to become more of a target at the expense of his family's well-being.
However, once Wellard made for the door, Tom knew he was involved. The lad had been seriously injured by Blodwen, and had no magic to protect him.
As he steps outside, he closes his eyes, wincing against the Dark power, so cold, so greedy.
"Wellard, stay back. Do not get in the middle of things!"
"I think I know enough for that!" Wellard glances at Tom, eyes wide, then back to the battle.
"Something was happening, and I just-"
Ran towards a huge fight between powers almost past his reckoning. Wellard is realizing this, and that it was most likely not the smartest thing to do, but it is rather too late to go back, now.
"Just came out." He mutters through clenched teeth. "I know enough to not try to deal with things far beyond my power."
He pats Wellard on the shoulder; at the same time, he exerts a slight amount of force to pull him back a step or two. "As do I," he says, frowning. "It's an honorable thing to want to help. However, I find that being honorable is sometimes dangerous to one's health."
Now Tom takes his wand out, carefully watching Blodwen and Raven. He becomes aware of others present - Moiraine, Mary Lennox and a young man he thinks might be Adam are present, and he has no doubt that Mary will be protected by either or both.
There are other figures present, as well, but Tom is heading for the cover of shadows now. He'll wait to see what happens before raising his wand against Blodwen. He'll wait to see who is more likely to win.
Comments 262
It's a gorgeous day, really. Everything's green and growing, the sun sparkles off the ripples in the lake, the shark pops up every once in a while, and it's deliciously warm.
Thus, the white shows up starkly, an almost painful contrast against the beauty of the day. Ace pauses to watch Blodwen warily. Don't antagonize, they've warned. Don't challenge her.
She'll just keep quiet until she's safely by.
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Her smile is poisonous in its sweet malice.
"Why, hello cariad." The soft light voice is lilting, amused. "Enjoying the day, are you?"
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"Yeah. S'warm." Polite. She has to be polite. If she managed to live with Gem's constant needling for fifty years, she can take the white bitch's presence for a few minutes.
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Merriman is first out the door, and not half a dozen paces from the door he stops so short that he nearly overbalances. One arm goes out, a silent and unquestionable command to the others to go no further.
Raven has a legitimate right of confrontation in this. And there is also the consideration that for those of the Light to intervene now, with all of the magic that is churning around Raven and the White Rider, could do incalculable harm with no real certainty of doing good.
'Not yet,' he hisses between his teeth, his expression taut with the strain of having to check his natural response to act. 'Approach -- but do not strike.'
Reply
(a small neat room in a small neat cottage just off Cadfan's Way, a hillside with John and Owen and Lluchddu guiding the sheep, a yellow rose in the gardens of the Lost Land, a king leading his queen out into a sunlit land)
as the Hunter wakes in the bottom of his mind. So it is that Bran stops short when Merriman commands it. Then, listening to the Hunter, but not letting it take control, Bran paces slowly towards the confrontation.
Reply
The fathomless, inhumanly ravenous hating that is the Dark presses against his mind, and all around is the sound of Raven's laughter, high and wild like the cawing of birds or the barking of dogs, far-off.
Reply
Without that physical form to hold it together, to contain and channel the hatred and the need to destroy, there is nothing to prevent it from striking out all at once, at anything within reach. And there is still enough of the mind of Blodwen Rowlands within that churning force to exert an influence over it, to direct it at her natural targets.
Three of whom are standing well within range.
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Moiraine does not slow, however. Instead, a golden glow explodes into being around her as the Aes Sedai moves swiftly to one side, for she has noticed something else.
A shining white-gold band of Air spun with Earth goes flying from her fingertips, wrapping carefully around the wire of the cage and drawing it towards her, away from the White Rider.
Reply
As the cage goes flying once again, Ace's little talons wrap around one of the slender silver wires, hanging on for dear life.
Reply
"What manner of creature are you to have invoked her wrath so?" The gleaming wire feels oily with the taint of Shadow, making it very clear to the Aes Sedai as to the source of the prison that had been lying near the Rider.
Reply
Oh glory be, the cage isn't moving. Ace has had quite enough of the cage moving. Bright black eyes open cautiously to take in... blue. Lots and lots of blue.
Wrath Ace agrees in a mournful little chirp. She thought feathers were supposed to be warm. It's freezing in this silver prison.
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Or Puck doesn't, at any rate.
His posture is easy as he ambles out the door, but his eyes are cat-narrow and glittering.
"Well."
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He flinches, and is at the threshold in an instant; one hand grips the frame as he stares up into the sky. His mouth falls open.
"Oh, you have got to be shitting me," he mumbles.
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"Who's out there?" she asks, more or less rhetorically, as she slips around Mercer.
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Newly unleashed from the constraints of a previous form, nevertheless something in the roiling furious void of mist and blackness that is the Dark made manifest here in this place recognizes those who have opposed it before --
--and then it falls out of the sky and upon them with the weight and pressure of millennia and madness, seeking to crush and destroy its enemies.
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But it was more the feeling of
cold and pain and the Dark
that had Wellard running for the back door, with Lord Ostium behind him. Out the back door, to where Raven and the White Rider are locked in battle-
Laughing and screaming.
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It simply wouldn't be wise for him to become more of a target at the expense of his family's well-being.
However, once Wellard made for the door, Tom knew he was involved. The lad had been seriously injured by Blodwen, and had no magic to protect him.
As he steps outside, he closes his eyes, wincing against the Dark power, so cold, so greedy.
"Wellard, stay back. Do not get in the middle of things!"
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"Something was happening, and I just-"
Ran towards a huge fight between powers almost past his reckoning. Wellard is realizing this, and that it was most likely not the smartest thing to do, but it is rather too late to go back, now.
"Just came out." He mutters through clenched teeth. "I know enough to not try to deal with things far beyond my power."
Reply
Now Tom takes his wand out, carefully watching Blodwen and Raven. He becomes aware of others present - Moiraine, Mary Lennox and a young man he thinks might be Adam are present, and he has no doubt that Mary will be protected by either or both.
Merriman, Will, and Bran stood ready to strike their enemy, should Raven fail to do so.
There are other figures present, as well, but Tom is heading for the cover of shadows now. He'll wait to see what happens before raising his wand against Blodwen. He'll wait to see who is more likely to win.
Reply
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