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Rated: E · Chapter · Fantasy · #1741631
A lightning storm in a bedroom and an accidental electrocution. What will I think up next?
Chapter 2

Storm Clouds



Late the next afternoon Trisanna woke up in a large half circle room. The rich brown walls that matched the ceiling and floor were somehow very comforting to her. A happy blaze burned inside a large stone fireplace that was set into the only straight wall, providing the room with a reliable source of both heat and light.

Rocking in a rocking chair made of the same wood as the walls was the healer. When Tris sat up she looked up and asked “How are you feeling dear?”

Tris wasn’t thinking very clearly so she had to think about that before she answered. “Tired.”

“Understandable. What happened to you?”

This question was a lot harder for Tris’s groggy mind to process so it took her much longer to answer. “Big boom, knocked me down.” She finally answered using hand motions in an attempt to make better sense of what had happened.

“Then what happened next?”

Another long pause while she thought it through.  “Dreamed about something…”

Not realizing that this was an important piece of the story the healer told Tris to tell her what happened after she regained consciousness.

Pause. “Showed winds…him.” She pointed at the mysterious boy that was in the bed across the room. “Find him. Ride hard.”

All but that last part made absolutely no sense to the healer. “Why did you ride so hard, were you being chased?” Curiosity had got the better of the healer.

“No” The answer was slow coming to Trisanna. Then it came to her. “Did I help save him?” she asked looking imploringly into the healers green eyes.

Looking into Tris’s pleading eyes the healer knew in her heart she couldn’t lie to her. “I did everything I could to save him.”

“And?”

Tears wet the old healers eyes “He isn’t going to make it I’m afraid.” She immediately regretted her choice of words.

Storm clouds rapidly formed in the room as Tris threw herself into a delirious rage. “YOU HAVE TO SAVE HIM!” She screamed leaping drunken like out of bed.

Scared silly, the healer cowered for a brief moment before her healer’s instinct, a desire to calm her patient down, kicked in. She knew that if she could get close enough she could make her sleep. Just something healers could do.

It started to hail. The air in the room threw the hail around in a fierce whirlwind, while energy began to build. Soon sparks of lightning gathered around Tris making it impossible for the healer to get close enough to do anything. Adding the remainder of the lightning from her braids Tris screamed between hysterical sobs “YOU HAVE TO SAVE HIM!”

The healer moved around towards the boy in the hopes that Tris would calm down if she thought the healer was going to try to save him like Tris wanted.

Then the unthinkable happened. A brilliant lightning bolt arced from Tris’s outstretched finger shooting through the air to hit the unconscious boy, dead center of his chest. Thunder temporarily rendered the healer deaf. Her magic quickly went to work on her ears and the burns she had gotten from being so close to the lightning.

Immune to the thunders deafening power due to its link to her magic, Tris retained her hearing. She did, however, feel the massive drain on her magic as it left her and staggered. Barely catching herself on the nearby bedpost she found herself face to face with Him.

He opened his violently violet eyes and said two words that echoed in her mind so loudly that they blocked everything else out. The healer rushed to her side and someone ran in yelling, but all she heard as they both sunk into blessed oblivion were those sweet innocent words: My Angel, My Angel, My Angel, My Angel, My Angel.

And the boy dreamed of the only thing he knew: flaming red hair framing a face with an angel’s piercing grey blue eyes.







Half an hour later the healer and her son were discussing what had happened. They had just finished cleaning up the mess caused by the miniature hailstorm had caused. Both Trisanna and the boy were sound asleep in their beds.

“I told you bringing them here would be trouble” grumbled the man.

“Nonsense Theo, what little trouble that has been caused was my fault, not theirs.”

“What do you call that hailstorm the mage girl whipped up then?” Sarcasm laced Theo’s voice. “That was definitely your fault.” He rolled his eyes.

His mother yawned. “Of course it was, I let my curiosity get the better of me and it blinded me from seeing that she was a tad delirious. Besides, it helped the boy somehow. Now he’ll live.”

Theo involuntarily cracked a smile. There was something about his mother’s way of putting things that just made people smile. “Fine you win that argument. Still do you really think we can trust them?”

“Definitely, but don’t take my word for it. Use one of those fancy truth spells Gordon taught you and ask them yourselves.” She told him dismissively.

Theo snorted. “How would you even know that anyway? We don’t know so much as their names!”

“The girls name is Trisanna Chandler.”

A ‘you don’t fool me’ look was quickly shot in her direction. “Yah, right mother.”

“If you aren’t ready to believe me and my answers don’t ask questions in the first place.” She snapped with a mischievous smile in her eyes. “You waste my precious time.” Theo yawned. “Why don’t you run off to bed? I plan to do the same right after I check on the boy one last time.”

Finding this idea to his liking Theo said goodnight to his mother. He had a feeling that he would need the sleep. Whatever tomorrow held was going to be interesting to say the least.



         



That night a dark cloaked figure stood under that magnificent weeping willow, examining the scar left by that fateful explosion. In every direction all but the very strongest trees were strewn outward, uprooted and lying desolate upon the browning landscape.

Disliking what it saw the figure began to draw luminous symbols in the air around itself. Light like a rainbow seeped from the willow and collected above the figures outstretched hand. The figure stood frozen in evident surprise for a mile moment, before drawing one more ominous symbol.

Like a cat stalking its prey the symbol purposefully began to move. The cloaked figure followed. For half an hour the stranger followed that feline symbol. The symbol found its way to the charred circle that Tris had left behind two days previously, and stopped dead center before sinking out of sight below, in the ground.

Strange. Puzzled the figure repeated the first set of luminous symbols that had been used earlier. This time heavy blue, yellow, and brown strips of magic rushed to the palm of the strangers hand.

Quickly swiping through the symbols the figure staggered back out of the circle. It was suicide to try to hold that much weather magic when you weren’t a weather mage. Worse than suicide was messing with a magic sinkhole like the one that existed in that in that charred circle.

Knowing that any tracking spells used would come back to that spot the figure didn’t bother to try. All the figure had to do was find that particular weather mage to find the mage with the unknown power. They were definitely connected. That was the goal.

Turning tail the figure ran with an unknown destination in mind. It would be quite a while before the figure returned to this particular spot.





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