Xellyndra: Retribution, Storm’s End
Xell snarls in irritation as she pumps her wings, heading home for the night. Lightning continues to flash over the area, rain pouring in a steady stream. She mutters to herself, an angry rumble deep in her throat.
”Damnable hell. . .I hate flyin in the rain. . .fire's my thing fer Carey's sake. . .AGH!!!”
She banks sharply to the right as a bolt of lightning cuts the sky not twenty feet to her left. The crash of thunder so near her sensitive ears lances through her head. Curling into a tiny ball from the shock, she falls like a rock through the air, plunging inexorably toward the courtyard hundreds of feet below. She groans at the pain in her ears, spots dancing before her eyes like drunken chaos imps. As though she had all the time in the world, she slowly regains full consciousness. Finally, her vision clears, eyes widening in shock at the ground rushing up her. She screams, too dazed still to recall the presence of her wings. More by reflex than through any design of her own, her wings snap out to her sides. The shock of her sudden deceleration knocks a grunt from her throat and pulls her back to full awareness. She eyes the courtyard fifty feet below her, shaking like a cornered. . .gutless-human-traitor, muttering to herself fearfully.
”Beloved in hell. . .that was just, way too close.”
Rain runs into her eyes and shocked terror turns to swift rage.
”Damn that creature. . .I'll eat her flesh off her living body. But first. . .”
Powerful strokes of her leathery wings send her soaring upward, regaining her previous altitude, and more, in only moments. She lights on the topmost tower of the Fortress, thin lips pulled back in a rictus of rage. A shudder passes over her body, a tremor of disgust. She knows the Betrayer created this unnatural storm, and it nauseates her to no end to be soaked in the Betrayer’s work. Her voice tears from her throat, as drenched in abhorrence as her body is drenched in the rain.
“I will bathe in your blood to wash the feel of this from me, Betrayer.”
The wind roars around her, incredibly strong at such a height. She folds her wings in, tight against her back, trying to make as small a resistance as possible, as the gusts attempt to knock her off her precarious perch. Long talons dig into the very stone of the Fortress, holding her feet tightly in place. The rain, whipped by the screaming wind, stings exposed skin, rousing her anger even further. Her stormy green eyes slowly shift a bloody crimson as she whispers a simple prayer.
”Sweet Beloved, give me the strength to rid my Mother's land of this affront.”
The words bring her a sense of calm, a cold and calculating concentration. Her body becomes perfectly still, her gray caste skin making her seem a decorative gargoyle. . .if not for the eyes. Deep within the bloody crimson, a flame begins to dance, flickering weakly at first, then growing stronger. She breathes slowly, deeply, focusing on the flame within her, still strong from its recent feast of pain from the Betrayer’s brat. A delighted smile flickers over her lips as she recalls her work of art, but mostly she revels in the exquisite pride in her Mother's eyes. A single look, two simple words, yet the mere memory brings tears to her burning eyes. Her thoughts continue to spin as her inner flame feeds from her own strong emotions, building to raging force. The only place she wants in the world is to stand at her Mother's right hand. The Betrayer had tried to take that from her. And now the Betrayer would try to take her Mother herself. A burning hate, a consuming love, emotion strong enough to nearly tear her young mind loose from reality, these flow into the fire, a raging inferno growing beyond her tenuous control. She begins to shudder convulsively, only her death grip on the stone below her holding her in place. Waves of roaring heat begin to flow from her body as she loses her hold on the gathering. Rain evaporates before it comes within five feet of her body. The wind is forced back by the radiating heat. A desperate cry springs from her lips accompanied by a long gout of flame like a beacon. Her mind screams out with piercing force.
”Mother!!!” and then, “Carey help me!”
Raging Pain shoots up her spine, forcing her body to jerk itself upright from her crouch. Too delirious to know what she's doing, she throws her hands skyward, a shattering demonic roar ripping from her throat. A pillar of flame rockets from each palm, they spiral together to form a single stream, jetting straight up to the roiling storm clouds. Upon meeting the black clouds, the spiraled pillar flares outward in every direction, an expanding disk of flame running across the sky. As the flames continue to feed from her palms, the fire eats through the clouds, burning the moisture off on contact. Chaotic minutes pass, unknown time, as the storm clouds disintegrate, moonlight punching through. She collapses back to a heap on her perch, the stream from her hands cutting off, and the last of the flames dissipating in the air above her. She is too dazed to admire her accomplishment, but the sky above her Mother's Fortress is clear. The moon shines strongly, defying the powers of the Betrayer to conceal her beauty from those who love her. Stars twinkle as though glad to be seen again, dancing across the sky. For a moment she teeters on her perch, weakly attempting to remain conscious. Inevitably, her grip on the wall weakens, talons striking sparks as they scrape loose. Falling limply forward, she plunges over the edge unconscious, her wings hang limply, sending her tiny body in an out of control spin toward the rocky ground below.
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