Dycathion

She stood alone in front of the great tower, her hands glowing with power, her ivory robes brushing the manicured grass of the royal gardens. From her, power sank itself into the tower, renewing the protective spells set in centuries past.

A fine sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead, but there was no sense of panic on the ever serene face. Instead, only a deep look of concentration shone in her blue eyes.

"She is perfection itself." The Grand mage murmured in awe. He and the rest of mages felt it. He had reached the zenith of his abilities and he was one of the lucky ones. What the Lady of Light was doing would usually take all of the mages in the city and then some.

"Do you think one day we'll have that much power?" One of the novice asked?

One of the acolyte shook his head, "Our magical abilities were determined at birth, some have more capacity for magic while others have less. Once you become an apprentice you will get tested."

"If you're really lucky and kill a fae, you could increase your capacity for magic." Another of the acolytes said, "but that's so rare now a days."

The rumbling seemed to calm down under her power. The Lady stopped her spell and a light mage apprentice immediate sprang forward to her side. She took the proffered handkerchief with a smile.

King Lunis came forward, "Thank you, Revered Lady."

The Lady of Light nodded, "I've placed more binding spells on the tower, it will hold for another thousand years."

"Of course, Lady, please rest, we have purified your temples. We beg that you stay with us for a while." The King bowed and the Lady graciously accepted.

The Land within the Ring

Cybelline felt as if she was a raisin, sucked dry of any moisture. She ignored the pain and worked to grip the slippery magic within her body. It was like reaching into the ocean and trying to braid the waves.

Sheer willpower and an unerring concentration that had been forged in the depths of war supported her. Carefully, she spoke the spell that the spirit had taught her, feeling for her magic that had woven itself into the Source and calling on it to obey her.

The strands thrashed in her control but she would not let it go, holding onto the warring powers until they stopped struggling in her grasp. She imagined the powers as different streams that fed into a great river, forcing them to flow in a path she chose.

Slowly, the magic which she had tamed but not conquered began to obey her command. From the multicolored ribbon that it had been when she created it, each power separated until they became seven different streams of power, flowing in her veins where her blood had been, until they filled each and every cell of her body with power.

It was a slow and painful process, forcing the power to do what she wanted. Cybelline knew that she had perhaps taken the first step towards controlling her immense power.

You are doing well child. The voice encouraged, this step would have taken a human novice at least ten years to learn. It is the most basic step of controlling your power.

"Does this mean I can use my power at will?" Cybelline grunted, controlling so much was exhausting, if not extremely painful.

Far from it. The voice broke through her daydream mercilessly. It is enough to feed your power into the books. You could still break the world if you used your powers on the outside.

"Why?" Cybelline asked.

The voice sounded mysterious, and perhaps, a little smug. You'll see. Feed your power to the books.

Cybelline concentrated at the task at hand, taking her streams of power and carefully connected it to the blood words - her blood, in the books.

Upon meeting her power, the books seemed to be unquenchable. Cybelline felt the pull of her power as it started to fill each page.

Don't let it pull too much, if you overwhelm it with your magic, the books will be destroyed. All of this will be for naught! The voice warned.

Cybelline nodded, she controlled the pace that the magic filled the words.

One page, three, ten, twenty. It was painstaking but when the first book was full of her magic, there was a ripping sound as a black liquid poured from the binding.

Three days passed this way, three slow, painful days as Cybelline filled one book after another. Black liquid poured from each book, the stuff hissing as it evaporated and left deep burns on the earth.

When the final book was filled with her magic, the books glowed gold, the color of her magic.

They rose into the air, spinning faster and faster until their form melted into a gold liquid that solidified into a thin golden bracelet. On it was a single ruby and five little divots that seemed to be placeholders for other stones. It landed in her hand. Cybelline had succeeded.

Cybeline examined the thin bracelet, feeling cooling effect it had in her hand. Gently she touched the ruby.

The fire magic in her body, one of the seven uncontrollable streams suddenly became docile as a lamb. It no longer burned in her veins as the other magics did, rather, it now help sooth the burden of magic in her bones. She took a deep breathe, the pain of magic seemed to have lessened in her body.

Perhaps there is hope for our race after all. The voice seemed to be in awe.

Then, suddenly, the Tower Spirit screamed in pain. A blood curdling cry that raised the hair on anyone's arm to hear it.

Cybelline felt the pain and anguish in the scream.

"What's happening?"

Someone's activated the spell in the tower. The voice said, exhausted. In using this spell, I have used the last of my magic to talk to you. In a few moments I will be forever imprisoned there.

"I can come find you." Cybelline said. "Tell me what to do."

No, don't. I will try and find a way to die, I know too many secrets about our race and as long as the humans are in power we are not safe.

The Tower struggled against the bonds of human magic, You are strong but there is a long road ahead. You have magic but not enough control, and I can not ask you to sacrifice everything to help a dying race, please stay hidden. It's voice was fading.

Cybelline was reminded her of her training days when she was still a child. She remembered the voices of the other children, ones she could not save. They sounded just like this spirit. Lost, hopeless, and in hell.

Her brows furrowed as she felt the magic of the Tower Spirit leave.

"Oh hell no." She said. Quickly, with her new control over fire magic she commanded her magic to follow the departing magic of the Tower Spirit.

She sank her power into the magic of the Tower Spirit. She could feel it, the thin line of magic that connected all the way back to the spirit in the tower, the heart of the castle in Dycathion.

And then she started pulling.

Dycathion

The capitol was beside itself with joy as it celebrated the arrival of the Lady of Light. In her honor, the city became a magnificent bloom of flowers and dancing. Minstrels strumed their lutes, singing ballads of The Lady of Light's Heroism as people danced in the streets.

Mage Priests threw sweetmeats and money to the poor in honor of their Lady as magicked lights gave the entire city a dreamlike quality.

In the castle, the Lady of Light sat on the dais, as the King and Queen stood. She held audience with the rich and poor alike, healing the sick, and giving counsel to the great houses. She smiled at the little ladies and lords who offered her flowers, and kissed the heads of newborns.

That night, a grand banquet was held in her honor. King Lunis bowed to the Lady of Light, "My lady, I have not seen Lord Killian."

The Lady of Light smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry, I wasn't able to prevent him from going."

The King paused and cursed underneath his breath with a sigh, "That little hot head." He shook his head wrly, "I'm surprised it took him this long. It looks like war is on the horizon"

"Anyone with eyes would have seen that he's heading that way all these years." The Queen said shrewdly, "Over the past years his campaigns have gotten longer and closer to that border."

"Dear Aunt, he did that to avoid you and your marriage schemes." A young man came forward, he had an easygoing face and a smile that was meant to disarm his elders.

"Patrick, what nonsense." The Queen tsked at him, but her smile and favor was unmistakable, she gestured to him as she spoke to the Lady of Light, "This is my nephew, Patrick of Lionsbane. His father is the ambassador to Londaros." The Lady of Light smiled at the newcomer and Patrick bowed.

"Your father is on his way back home?" The King asked quietly. Patrick nodded. The king smiled, "Then tell him to come sup with us when he is returned."

As the Lady of Light raised her jeweled cup, a tremor ran throughout the castle. A drop of bright red wine escaped the glittering prison and landed on her sleeve.

The Lady frowned and stood up. In the blink of an eye, she had disappeared.

The banquet fell silent as they looked at her empty spot in wonder.

The Lady of Light arrived in time to see the tower shake, much more violently than it had before.

Casting her magic, she found the Spirit. With three spells, she staked it to the ancient stone of the tower. It screamed in pain. She ignored it.

"You won't escape and you won't die." She told it coldly. "I will find out what you're up to and you will suffer."

Haven't you done enough? The spirit cried. Haven't you destroyed enough? So many of my people have died by your hand. We are a decimated race.

"As all of mine have died by yours." The Lady said coolly. "You will pay the price. All of you."

The Land in the Ring

Cybelline felt a rush of power attack her as she grabbed onto the other end of the Tower Spirit's Magic. It was a vicious, violent magic, that hacked at her bond. Power as strong as hers, if not stronger.

Cybelline dug in, refusing to let go as the hot whip of enemy magic lashed at hers. She threw out more ropes of fire, until she found the spirit in the tower. Her magical eye showed her a terrible scene.

Three magical stakes had nailed the spirit to the wall, its ethereal figure was screaming in pain. Cybelline rushed at the stakes, attacking it with her fire.

At the same time, the Lady of Light's magic sank into Cybelline's magic, trying to destroy her. Cybelline tasted blood in the back of her throat, its coppery tang trying to force its way out of her mouth. She gritted her teeth and ignored the pain.

I will not lose. She thought, violently.

The magic attacking her seemed to sense her difference and increased its onslaught.

You are not her match right now, child. The source is not meant to be used this way. The tower spirit cried out in her mind. You have to grow into your magic, and trust me one day you will do that. But not today, save yourself! Do not let her discover you!

Cybelline spat out a mouthful of blood.

The Lady of Light contemplated the situation. True, she hadn't even used even a fourth of her power, but whoever was on the opposite side was strong. Much stronger than anyone she had met in a long time. Perhaps, one day they may be as strong the First Blood whom she had killed or imprisoned. She raised a hand and increased her attack. She was going to find this new enemy and destroy them.

Cybellin knew that if she used the raw power of the source, she might destroy the spirit. She looked at the stakes that trapped the spirit to the tower... the tower.

Could she? It would be insanity. But if she was able to bring the children into the land of the Ring... It was an instinctive thing, and it took all of her concentration. The fox had told her that the ring was a powerful magical thing, having housed the Source for so long.

If the fox knew what she was thinking of doing, it might have died from shock. For no one would dare attempt what she was about to do. Because no one had ever thought it was possible.

She smiled. It was worth a shot.

On one hand, she increased her power to fight that vicious magic. On the other, she began to remember what the tower looked like, stone by stone she drew up the image in her mind. She commanded it with every fiber of the being.

Dycathion

A bright flash, like sunlight covered the night, temporarily lighting the word in a multitude of colors. Everyone closed their eyes, even the Lady of Light. It was as if a star had come to earth.

She felt a violent break in her magic. Someone had forcibly severed the connection, cut it off clean. She had thought that the person on the other end could only defend while she attacked. She thought they didn't have enough power to fight back.

Instead of fighting her, they had done...this.

She looked at the great hole in the ground and contemplated her next step.

Behind her, the silence broke as the entire place had come to see the commotion. A wail broke the silence as people fell to the earth in shattered grief.

The pride and symbol of their magic. The greatest emblem of their land...

was gone.

The Land in The Ring

Cybelline felt as if her body and mind was on fire. The fog that had surrounded the little parcel of land was pushed back by her will, forced to reveal more of the land in the ring.

The space the size of a little village that Cybelline had first arrived now became the size of a city, with three rolling hills to the east. The duck pond now became a lake, the waves lapping gently at the earth. And the sickly tree that had looked like a bush now grew to the size of a sapling, and though it still looked sickly, on the branch with red leaves, it now had many more of the ruby foliage.

It had happened all the sudden, the immovable fog had moved and expanded the land, and as the boys and the fox looked for Cybelline, they gasped.

An immense tower stood, the higher end immersed in clouds of the sky. No wonder the land grew, afterall, this tower alone could have filled the land had it retained its original size. Beside the tower, a girl was breathing heavily, her lips stained red with blood.

The boys and the fox ran forward.

"Cybelline!" Berin called out.

Cybelline looked up and smiled, then she pointed to the immense structure behind her.

"I think I might have stolen a tower."

Then she fainted.