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The power that had hidden behind the door all those years swelled in me. On its heels, I sobbed and summoned my birthright. The storm that was an elf’s inner being had no room for humanity.
Magic flooded through me. It burned, leaving no room for humanity or anything but itself. I strained against the confines of my suddenly too small, too dull, and broken body and easily passed out of it, hovering above it. It felt so good to be free.
Made of dust and water, the meat that had contained me lay strapped to a chair, surrounded by humans. Limited creatures, composed of dust and water themselves, but fun to play with.
The shield of magic above me was thin and almost broken. It had been important that it remain, but the memories of why slid from me on the wind’s fingers.. The sensation of the moment was paramount, and the thrill and tingle of magical energies caressed me. Still, the humans would not provide amusement if the magic disintegrated them.
I rose through the shield, luxuriating in the tumbling energies of the mage-Ridden’s attacks that saturated its surface. Like a lover’s hands tracing my body, and almost as pleasurable. The energies whipped around me and I laughed, grasping them, taming them to my will, and using them to layer over and reinforce the shield.
I turned my face up to the sky, to the lightning, my ever-available paramour. It flickered in the sky and I shivered in anticipation as the lightning strike hit me.
Like an orgasm in my human body, but even more satisfying. I shuddered in the aftermath.
The mage-Ridden shifted their attacks on me, flicks of power. They buzzed unpleasantly, an annoyance. Still tingling with the remnants of the strike, I called more lightning down on me and shared it with the Ridden.
We’d fight if they could survive my new lover’s attention. The storm knew no gentleness, and I was not in the mood to be distracted by them.
Once the lightning cleared, their smoking bodies lay on the ground, unmoving. The immaterial creatures that had controlled the bodies tried to flee. I could perceive their patterns of energy rising from the charred meat. I reached out and caught them, stretching the energy they were composed of between my fingers. An odd type of life, alien in its resonance.
I let my amusement pulse through the ether, communicating it to the inferior lives I held in my hands. They sought meat for some reason, wishing to be encased in flesh. How strange,
Why did they not simply call it from the matter around them?
Why be limited by the meat of a body when there was so much more to experience? Bodies were so fragile, they needed so much care.
Spasms of pleasure rippled through me: the rush of power, the feel of these creatures’ inmost lives twined in my hands. I could remake them, destroy them, or do anything I willed. A diversion to pass the time.
A pure sweet song rose in the sky. Elves noticed my ascension, and they greeted me with a song. They welcomed me in the sky, their presence a respectful distance. Too near, we elves repelled each other.
I answered, letting them hear and feel my freedom and joy. The song rang through me as I turned my attention back to the voices below me, dull and human and muted to only a fraction of the wavelengths available, sad and small. It was a whisper against the song filling me.
Something I needed to do with them, if I could only remember. Annoyed at the feeling, I destroyed the energies I held in my hands, dissipating them back into raw magic, destroying the consciousnesses, Then I dismissed the shield protecting the humans, and drifted back down to almost the dirt, hovering just above it.
Wind and rain lashed them, but I didn’t call the lighting again.
The smaller male repeated a word over and over… “Dmitri”.
The word stirred shreds of memory. Something in me hurt.
The humans had names, if only I could remember… if the song would let me. It called me to the sky and freedom.
Still, some task needed to be completed before I was free.
I summoned their thoughts to me, to help me remember. The young human screamed and clutched her temples.
Walker. Chance. Joan. Kara.
Connections. I remembered them.
I remembered Alys.
Limited, pathetic, angry. A child of the storm, confined to meat. Bound to meat by family on the cusp of ascending, constrained mentally by another human. Longing for connection but afraid to achieve it. Unwilling to simply take what she desired and keep it until she was done with it. Disgusting and weak.
In Walker’s mind, worn smooth and hard by time, she shone like a butterfly, brilliant and unique and loved. Moments played through his mind, seeing her for the first time, carried in by Silver the memory overlaid with concern and amused exasperation. Surprised delight at her propositioning him across the table, wanting nothing from him other than mutual pleasure. Deepening love at seeing her determination and caring for those weaker than herself. Respect and admiration for her integrity. Bitter grief at her loss filled all the crevices of his being.
In Chance, himself bearing a flaring coal of power, deep affection and worry, and the faintest fading hope.
From Kara, admiration and wistful connection, a desire to emulate what she perceived as boldness and confidence. Gratitude for what she saw as Alys changing how her family interacted, where Kara was no longer the daughter with no talent but someone whose power could be respected, as well as bringing the baby brother Kara adored. Dmitri, again, vivid in her thoughts, woke echoes of emotion in me.
