12-09-2020, 03:24 AM
Act II Scene II - Clarity
The will to protect.
That is what she wanted him to show her.
The first time it came to him, it was Moa who drove him to reach out. His deepest wish was to protect her.
Now he had another goal.
Lucas stood at the edge of the clearing, his eyes fixed down at the distant lights of Osrona. The Shining City. The City of Stars. It had taken Sasha from him. His mentor. A woman he looked up to like an aunt. He took a deep breath and let it out. His blue eyes glowed with mana. Where his still-wet tears lingered at the corners the mana streamed up, wafting like pipe-smoke up and into the air.
He could have lost control.
He could have given in to his rage. It felt right to want revenge.
But she wouldn't have wanted that.
She had all those years to take revenge on the city that abandoned her; the Stellus and Archmage who put her and her young daughter out into the cold because she refused to kill for them. He had heard how she died. Why she died. Because she refused once again to step aside when her friends were threatened.
That was heroism, not treachery.
Perhaps it was naive to think he knew what she truly was, but the woman she had been for him was heroic all the same. She had believed in a world where the gifts of Kraus could be given to all. Where Human, Drakanite, and Beastkin could learn the blessings of faith and be strong enough to push back the darkness of fear. Where they were all free to defend what they loved.
He clasped his hands together in front of his chest. He closed his eyes. From within his heart he drew that spirit. Calling on his vision he cast his mind's eye into a future he yearned to see. His eyes opened. Mana flared. His hands moved through the air, trailing golden motes as he filled himself with faith. His eyes gleamed bright, like two stars in the night sky, trailing mana that flared gold as it burned in the casting.
All around him was a golden glow, a shining radiance that reached out from his bare skin and swirled about him like a will-o-wisp.
He grabbed his spear and began to move through the motions of his fighting stance, setting the clearing alight with the fire in his heart. Between those trees, beneath the starry sky, the clearing glowed as bright as the noonday sun.
He tested his aching muscles until they were raw, wielding that blessed power to strengthen his body and spirit. And when he was done, he laid down on the grass and dreamed...
He stood alone at the foot of the mountains, his spear held at the ready, facing a squad of Osronan magi. Each one he knew by name. Men and women he had met as a boy. They advanced towards him.
But he did not strike. He reached out a hand.
And they reached out for him.
One by one they greeted each other as friends, shaking hands and patting backs, like old friends meeting after a long time apart. When they were done, he turned and raised his spear towards the mountains above. A sign to the others.
From above, a score of faces rose and peered down at the strangers below. Theirs he knew, too. From the wizened visage of Duniya Vartuul, the oldest of the Fireblooded, to the bright, serpentine eyes of the little girl who rushed down to greet him, shouting a cheer for her papa.
From that day forward the two could mingle together, like he had. And perhaps they would find the joy and love that he now possessed.
At long last...
When he woke, the rays of the morning sun streamed down onto his body. In that subtle dawning light he felt he could see the path towards his destination. This power he was granted could fulfill his dream and Sasha's. It would not be easy to reconcile mountain and city. It might not even be possible in his lifetime, not completely, but he knew it could be done. One day. And until that day he would teach whomever he could. He would spread the power of faith to all who wished to find it, just as she had.
All he needed to bring about his dream was to kindle hope in the hearts of others. To give them a reason to stand side by side. He could do that by walking her path. It sounded silly now, but he had faith that there were those who wanted to end the cycle of bitter wars. Those who were tired of lives being claimed to gain mere parcels of empty ground. He had faith in the goodness in their hearts.
That faith would give him strength.