It’s weird almost funny how everything seems alive, random and yet ready to be give a purpose. The erratic wind that blows in her hair bringing it in a wild waltz, the clouds that stretch ready to bring then tear carrying away the promise of water. Everything is chaotic without purpose but can be brought to have one. She could gather the clouds and start a rainfall in the desert: she knows it. She could bring the wind to become a sandstorm. She is everything and yet nothing. And she knows what would only be a tiny push and what would be forcing the elements. Is that what it means to be what she is? What are the limits?
“Only those you decide for yourself so long as you don’t compromise free will.”
“How do I know that?”
He smiles; it must be such a simple thing but she’s still understanding this. It’s so… He takes her hands in his and she feels everything even more keenly.
“Do you remember your dreams?”
Of course she does. The two of them remodeling the world to their whims. She knows they wouldn’t do it, not for long.
The pain that tears through her in that instant is so deep it feels her heart is being ripped out. He feels it too, she can tell. She clutches at her side, her breath catching.
“Ysanne!” She breathes. The novice is hurt. She can feel Apsis’ power reaching but even the god can’t reach… Plior. No. NO! She reaches for the girl from beyond the ocean and the desert. She has to…
“Eriane don’t. We’re not ready. You aren’t ready.”
She doesn’t listen… Fear and anger. Such powerful feelings. She can’t; she’s furious. She reaches for the city beyond the sea. The clouds that she hasn’t touched before are behind her, but over Amin the storm gathers. Lightning and rain start pouring, the clouds obscure the sun… The sea becomes uncontrolled and for al his power Tlian cannot calm the waters. The air is electrified by the storm. Chaos ensues; the ships seem not to go where its sailors guide them. Screams all around her.
“Eriane. Stop. You will kill them all.” His voice is comforting but he’s afraid too. Through him she has more power than she can handle. So far she’s used it wisely. But to protect one of her charges…
“I know Eriane but you can’t…”
“I can’t stand by. I have… To give her the chance to choose. Please.”
He hesitates. She knows he’s trying to protect her. But she makes her choice. She reaches for Ysanne and Apsis.
She can see the girl, her side torn open by the tusk of an orpar. She can see the god trying to salvage what he can. She knows she’s crossed onto Plior’s domain for the goddess is there ready to gather Ysanne’s soul. She doesn’t want to be here: she needs to reach Apsis on the plan of energies. Still she breathes in Ysanne’s ear.
“I’m here daughter. Hold onto the thread of life.”
Ysanne’s eyes widen. She whispers her name: Apsis – Prilm shudders. He feels her but he can’t see her, feel her. So she crosses into the world of energies. Here she can feel fire, air, water and earth. They’re uncontrolled.
“Eriane?! How can this be? Where…? What?”
“There is no time my Lord. I’m here to offer a choice and give you a chance. Will you take it?”
“For her sake I will.”
She takes the healer’s hand and gives him what he needs. Whether he will use it and how… That’s not for her to decide.
“Come back Eriane.”
She doesn’t know whether it’s Prilm or Sheran who calls her. The pull is strong though: she doesn’t really belong to this plane of existence. She returns to her body in the desert. And collapses.
When she comes to, she’s lying on the bed and he’s sitting by her side, concern etched into his features. She knows this is proof she’s not ready but they can’t stay on the side of this war. The Ervasseans are diminished and they need their help.
“You can’t take away free will from men Eriane. At the end of the day it must remain their choice.”
“And I would rather you kill me than open the doors of Ervassae to the Nixes.”
That she knows he intended to do. But that was before… Before love and its randomness. He nods. She knows what she asks. And… Oh! Understanding dawns. Of course. Love is random…
In response to the Daily Post writing prompt Chaos