Catryn froze in her tracks and arms enveloped her tightly, pinning her in place. That time, she did not struggle. She wanted to hate him, she wanted to vow to bring him to justice for his actions. But she couldn’t deny his words.
Any misgivings Kali had dissipated when the guitarist struck up the first chord. The music, and the message, were all that mattered. They wanted to remember the fallen, to rage at the injustice of the world that tore their friend away. Kali just wanted to let it all out.
Trepidation in her steps, she moved slowly towards the dancing light, not at all surprised as it pulled further away each time she drew near. A voice near her ear startled her as the priest murmured “You can see the wisps?”
Kali stared in awe; this was the power of a god. Demeter had completely reformed the space in a matter of seconds. The sandy, bloody, smell had given way to fresh grass with hints of pine. A soft summery breeze rustled the leaves in the trees.
Catryn’s eyes went red, the rage boiling over inside her. As her magic battled for control, the bandit’s smile faltered as he felt her alarming presence sweeping over him. Her hands shook but her voice was strong. “You get one warning. Release them. Or die.”
The freedom of wind rushing through her hair, one last time. If her mind could register the childish longing, buried somewhere deep within, she might have given into it. Instead, she sighed the wish away on a heavy exhale and scanned the street below.
Slumping her shoulders, she muttered “You’re better off without me. You’ve shown that today. You don’t need me, and I definitely don’t need you."
A cold blue flickering light caught her attention. It flittered and danced at the edge of her vision, surrounded by strange, haunting whispers. Echoes of the life it had once led. Ahren felt the change in her and sighed with a small mocking smile.
Though it had never rained in Camelot, the entire camp was covered in a blanket of snow for the Winter Festival. Snowflakes were drifting steadily from a clear blue sky.
The talisman of the Gatekeeper hanging at Wolf’s wrist was her first and only warning of the attack before a thick rusted blade swung out of the shadows. She pulled back just in time, feeling the rush of cold air as the clumsy hunk of metal that passed for a greatsword rushed by her face.
