Re: Part 69 - War of the Wheels
When Berd battled for Prime's world, he did so with the power of worlds flowing through his tiny body. Tapped by Jack, directed by Kia, and poured into his weak vessel, it had broken locks and chains about his spirit, opening old pathways cluttered by the debris of injury and time. In that moment, he had awakened to something closer to his ancient self; with that power flowing through him, he had briefly reached for his old, lost strength.
That power no longer exists for him to draw. But time has passed since the battle for Prime's world. The scarred, clogged flows of strength within him have swept partly clean. And Berd has dragged himself up by his boostraps, limping his way up the infinite staircase separating him from his past. He knows he can never achieve the perfection he once held. But...
Time is the key. Capable of vast displays of force when pressed, given a span of minutes to prepare Berd can achieve so much more. Slowly, he weaves his spirit into the world around him, subjugating it to his will. Delicately, he dips a claw into the Underflow itself - his own well of power is deep, and the energies of all creation to aspect as he chooses dwarfs what Kia once bestowed upon him.
"Gather close," Cyan whispers to the others.
Berd's eyes open to small orbs; within them dance swirling galaxies.
At first, the changes are small. The localized air begins to cool, and a dull drizzle springs up outside. Then magnetic forces of the planet itself begin to warp and twist, gathering strongly around metal fragments buried deeply within the ground.
Water for the ashurianti; magnetics and grounding points for the danioti and herenethi.
Clouds have begun to scud in, unnaturally quickly, and the sky boils above. More seconds tick by, and the motion takes on a pattern - a devouring funnel slowly opens, a hole in the clouds, that swirl about it, a vortex dragging the howling winds up into itself. Lightning crashes within the dark hole, dancing around its edges like a brilliant iris surrounding a devouring pupil.
A great eye stares down at the bowl the Seraphim hold.
Now lightning lances down, drawn to strike the ruins. Harmlessly, at first, but the thunder rolls unceasingly. The sound twists, warps as the brilliant spears fall, thicker and thicker. It takes on a cadance. Becomes a voice.
YOU CANNOT HIDE FROM ME.
The sky flares white as a massive blast of lightning cleaves stone - impossibly, the arc holds steady as the seconds pass, linking the ground to the sky, a building shattering under the force and sudden heat. Nature screams its fury in the endless thunder, and the thunder holds words.
I SEE EVERYTHING.
Now fire blooms withing the gaping maw of the maelstrom above, burning its way down the dark tunnel, fanning out along the lightning-wreathed clouds. Within seconds, the entire sky ignites, and yet the rain continues, now pounding down quicker and quicker. The magnetics warp and twist within the earth and buildings around the bowl, slowing the danioti, dragging the energies of the herenethi toward the lethal groundings - not enough to kill, but making this place decidedly painful for the hidden Seraphim. Water seeps into cracks, pools, infiltrates the ground, all impossibly quickly - again, not lethal for the ashurianti, but like liquid blades to whatever fiery rings it finds.
Still hidden within his cloak, Berd prepares. Upon Cyan's shoulder, the little dragon has risen to his feet. He breathes out a plume of pure heat, the air warping about his mouth, and the bard turns her face away. Above, the thunder still rolls, and another building begins to die beneath the lightning.
THIS PLACE IS MINE. LEAVE IT AND LIVE, OR STAY AND PERISH.