there's light at the edge of the darkness
Wonder of wonders, Loren had survived LongNight. Somehow, despite the darkness and the monsters and the fact the gods were not there to look out for them during that terrible week, he’d made it through. In fact, compared to previous years, it seemed they’d emerged remarkably unscathed; while there were more than a few casualties, it had been a much lower death toll than last year and years past.
That didn’t mean all was well. Indeed, while he’d gotten through LongNight untouched, he couldn’t say the same for his magic. Something had changed with his summoning, and he was terrified how his spells and abilities kept shifting on him without warning. The unpredictability, especially for someone who’d honed his magic for his entire life, was terrifying.
Which was why he’d come to a secluded place to test it. Rexanna was supposed to help him with this, but she was no longer the blue-eyed woman: the monsters had gotten to her, taking her vision. Supposedly The Voice was going to heal her, but the summoner didn’t know if he trusted that. Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford to wait for her help.
Coming to the center of the bone bridge—it was mostly as white as when it had been covered in snow, though moss and other plants were beginning to poke through—he took a cross-legged position and closed his eyes, breathing steadily. Once he’d found his center, he opened his eyes and called upon that magic that seemed uniquely his, at least for now. Then the Launceleyn started cycling through monsters. Pegasus, luxere, Spark Bird, ogre, golem, siren, any number of creatures that he’d called upon recently. Yet none of them responded to his call this time. Trying not to let his frustration get the better of him, he summoned the one creature he knew would answer: a unicorn appeared, standing next to him, head raised high. At least his magic hadn’t abandoned him entirely, but it was distressing nonetheless.
That didn’t mean all was well. Indeed, while he’d gotten through LongNight untouched, he couldn’t say the same for his magic. Something had changed with his summoning, and he was terrified how his spells and abilities kept shifting on him without warning. The unpredictability, especially for someone who’d honed his magic for his entire life, was terrifying.
Which was why he’d come to a secluded place to test it. Rexanna was supposed to help him with this, but she was no longer the blue-eyed woman: the monsters had gotten to her, taking her vision. Supposedly The Voice was going to heal her, but the summoner didn’t know if he trusted that. Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford to wait for her help.
Coming to the center of the bone bridge—it was mostly as white as when it had been covered in snow, though moss and other plants were beginning to poke through—he took a cross-legged position and closed his eyes, breathing steadily. Once he’d found his center, he opened his eyes and called upon that magic that seemed uniquely his, at least for now. Then the Launceleyn started cycling through monsters. Pegasus, luxere, Spark Bird, ogre, golem, siren, any number of creatures that he’d called upon recently. Yet none of them responded to his call this time. Trying not to let his frustration get the better of him, he summoned the one creature he knew would answer: a unicorn appeared, standing next to him, head raised high. At least his magic hadn’t abandoned him entirely, but it was distressing nonetheless.
loren
