In Her Element

So engrossed was Almyra that she failed to hear the person sneaking up behind her until it was too late and she found herself in the arms of a man, her back against his chest and a knife at her throat. Almyra tensed, feeling the knife shaking against her neck and realizing that the person holding her had either no idea of what to do or did not really want to hurt her. It was most likely a combination of both, plus a lack of confidence.

“What is it that you want from me?” She spoke quietly, so as not to scare him into cutting any deeper into her skin; she already felt a warm trickle of blood running down her neck and into her gown.

Almyra received no response, so she tried again, even as she racked her mind for a way to get out of the situation without hurting herself or the man in the process.

Don’t!

Almyra gasped as the knife bit into her skin and she felt tears threatening to flow.

You forget all of us here have Spirit, and I am one of the stronger. I will bring you back to the Master, and he will reward me beyond all possibilities.

Even in her mind, Almyra could tell that the bravado in the familiar voice was hiding fear. Using this to her advantage, she used a sliver of air to push the knife away from her while at the same time she elbowed the man in the guts and stepped on his foot. He groaned, doubling over in pain, and Almyra managed to make it a few steps away when she felt her mind being pulled. Once again, her feet flew out from under her and she landed hard on her bottom, the pain shooting up her spine. She rolled over quickly, avoiding the next blast, grateful that Rupert had taught her some basic moves to protect herself, at the same time cursing the fact that he had refused to let her learn more. She also cursed the fact that her feet were getting tangled in the pretty dress that was not so pretty anymore.

Almyra scrambled to her feet to face Samuel and threw up a wall of thick air, pulling it back with the energy that hit it and then let it loose so that the energy rebounded at Samuel. He ducked to evade getting hit by his own blast, narrowly avoiding having his hair shaved off. His face contorted in anger, and Almyra backed up, realizing what a mistake she had made in responding and inciting his anger.

The heat of the two-person battle escalated, Samuel sending blasts of power that Almyra barely managed to deflect, and she throwing balls of fire that her opponent dodged gracefully. He kept backing her up, staying in the offensive, and Almyra was very quickly struggling to stay on her feet, to keep up and protect herself; she no longer had the ability to send her own power at Samuel for fear that he would dodge it and send his own back too quickly for her to circumvent.

Almyra was feeling too overwhelmed, not managing, her control leaving her, her defense weakening.

And then Samuel got a blast through.

Almyra felt herself being lifted off the ground by a strangling grip on her throat. Black dots appeared at the edge of her vision as she struggled to pull the invisible hands off her and take in a much needed breath. She pulled and pulled but she had barely any strength left. She was going to die here, without anyone to care for her. A heavy feeling settled on her chest as she struggled to breathe. Samuel jerked her sideways, and suddenly the heavy feeling moved.

I guess my heart shifted, Almyra thought, as her despair made way for gallows humor. Her heart seemed to be heating up as well, and it filled her with a feeling of serenity, of peace that she immediately associated with a pre-death experience. Almyra reached to cover her heart with her hand in a last attempt to save herself and her hand hit upon the source of all the feelings just as her mind did. She grasped at the necklace, fumbling and almost losing it in her neckline. She tried again and, clutching it so hard she could practically feel the stone cutting into her palm, she called out for help. And again.

A purple tinged haze settled over the area and everything seemed to freeze in time and space. Almyra could still make out Samuel but he was blurred, so that she could not make out the horrific death-glare she knew was on his face.

So this is what death is like. Not so bad at all. The strangling feeling had disappeared, and while Almyra still remained held aloft, she was comfortable in being so.

Her eyes were drifting shut, ready to close forever, when a small vortex appeared right in front of her. Her eyes popped wide open again, and she watched with great awe as the King stepped out of it.

You called?

Almyra’s mouth was open in shock and she could barely make out the word “yes” in face of the greatness that stood before her. The compassion in his eyes, however, released her, and everything that had transpired came pouring out of her mouth in barely coherent sentences, tears leaking from her eyes simultaneously. The exalted King listened to her, attentively nodding and reacting in the right places. When she finished, he reached out with one long finger and stroked her cheek, wiping away her tears.

You forget, child, that you were joined with the Stone. Spirit is now a part of you. It holds no control over you, it cannot harm you. As before, you yourself cannot call it, but you may wield it, of course, if someone else initiates the contact. Prepare yourself child. It will not get any easier, not now, not in the years to come. You must proceed wisely. I shall help when I can but you will have to work on your own at times. Hard times will come and go and you must take care not to relax and fall into any traps.

But for now, my child, you may go and succeed; cross the threshold of your awaiting destiny.

The image of the King faded away, and Almyra once again found herself in the chokehold of Samuel. She was dazed, unsure of what had happened, and looking at Samuel, she saw that he too was in a stupor. Almyra snapped out of it first, and that one short moment gave her a chance to gather her thoughts. Even as Samuel shook himself out of it, Almyra was gathering the energy that was strangling her, amassing it into a vast sphere that swirled around hypnotically, shimmering in the night with the brightness of a roomful of lamps.

Samuel did not remain still while Almyra slowly drained him of energy. She had already taken too much; he was powerless to stop her, or even break the connection. He turned pale, beads of sweat forming on his forehead; he was now the victim in this battle. Not even a minute later, he collapsed to his knees.

This startled Almyra and she let go; all the energy raced back to the source, into its vault, and the sudden overflow of Power engulfed the boy, and he collapsed completely, into a heap on the rough ground of the forest.

Almyra dropped to the ground, just managing to land on her feet though she wobbled a bit, and ran to him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she cried, checking to see if he was still alive. Trembling, she felt for his pulse, a fresh bout of tears—of relief—released when she found it. She stood, not sure what to do with him, when a door in her mind opened, a connection remade, and she heard a voice calling her, a voice that she already missed.

Almyra. Run. Run home.