| Five Magi stood in the Garden of Bantaehl, awaiting the arrival of the Acharya. They did not shift nervously, or engage in meaningless chitchat; there was nothing for them to say to each other so they all stood in silence. The glow bugs that had been there for what seemed forever flitted among the still limbs, no longer afraid that some of them might suddenly explode. Sylvae had been chided time and again, and finally had to be restrained and pricked by the tiny stingers of glow bugs for two weeks straight to be taught that the insects were not toys. Acharya strode in and his black robes absorbed the dim light from the glow bugs. He glanced at the stones where the statue of the Seer and her boy had stood. The floor still seemed scorched there, a deep black, and yet if one touched the blackness their hands would come away covered in a light opalescent residue. The Magi training here, learning how to die, had taken to calling the statue that now stood at the very front of the Spires "The Lovers," scornfully. Acharya looked each of his Magi in the eye, not even bothering to hide his disgust for Sylvae's scars. He was the cause of those scars, the reason the flesh had been stripped away and the reason it had been pieced back together, and he regretted it. He should have just told the Seer to decapitate them all, that way Sylvae would never have survived. That boy was becoming more trouble than he was worth, and for some reason the only one able to keep him in line anymore was Felanya. Corridan had little patience for the Seer's brother, and thought him an idiot. Dalnek and Lyahr refused to speak with him long enough to even formulate an opinion; Lyahr stating that Sylvae was too… course, Dalnek simply uttering that the boy was beneath him. "You are back, finally." Something cold stirred behind Acharya's eyes. "And you return with nothing. No papers, no prisoners and no clues. Though I can't say I expected any of you to gain more of a clue than you had when you left." He shook his head irritably. "Then try doing a better job yourself," Lyahr rolled his eyes as Dalnek began to rage. It wasn't that he disagreed with the tirade he knew was coming; Ultimate Darkness or not, Acharya owed them all a little more respect. "That Sun-Chylde is hard to track, and has been impossible to capture. Somehow he knows when we are coming, no matter how wonderful you claim your spies to be. So unless you plan on leaving your Tower and your bugs to hunt for him yourself, I suggest you save the insults for the Magi that deserve them." His deep brown eyes spoke volumes of malice. "I should have given control to Lyahr," Acharya spoke to no one in particular. "You have only been a disappointment. You allowed the Sun-Chylde to run, and while he himself is not a threat, he could gathers others and quickly become one. You should not have been here." "You said it yourself, I belong here, Acharya." Dalnek spat the name with disdain. "Make up your blasted mind." "In most other worlds, you never even made it to the Rift. In many worlds, you were not Chosen to go, and in others still you ran away, frightened." He bared his teeth in what resembled a grin. "Are you calling me coward?" "Dalnek-" Felanya began, ready to place herself in the middle of a conflict that had nothing to do with her. "Let him speak his mind, Felanya." Acharya grinned. "No, Dalnek, I am only speaking fact. The fact is, that in many worlds, you were simply not part of this. Now, what else do you have to say, what other utterly important drivel do you have to get off of your chest?" Only now did Corridan shift at all; part of him knew that look in Acharya's eyes - from where, he couldn't really be sure - and this could only end badly. "I have nothing to say to you," Dalnek muttered coldly and turned his back from the Acharya, still muttering but now inaudibly. "Well, that is nothing new, is it? You haven't had anything to say to me for centuries, and I doubt you will have anything to say to me when the sun crawls above the horizon tomorrow." "You keep saying that," Lyahr narrowed his eyes. "That you have known us for centuries, that we all belong together but you refuse to explain any of it." He noticed the way Sylvae was grinning, obviously enjoying the conflict, and only rolled his eyes again. "Because if any of you were ready to hear it, then I wouldn't need to explain it," Acharya snapped. "You could all figure it out for yourselves but I suppose those humans brains of yours are getting in the way. A pity that I cannot rip them from your skulls and remind you all what you really are," he sighed, disappointed. "But experiments have proven that you would only fall to the ground, more useless than you are now…" "Enough!" Dalnek turned and shouted at Acharya. A great mass of flame leapt from his hands, gathering on the floor as it poured from his palms. The mass of fire took shape, as it seemed to wilt in reverse. The Eiral Sho'or Dalnek had called into existence screeched, revealing fangs made of pure white heat. It began to lunge at the Acharya, moving with a speed unexpected since its limbs did not seem to fit together quite right. Dalnek was gathering bright flames between his hands, Calling another of the Eiral Sho'or into being when Acharya began laughing. All the Great Teacher had to do was wave a hand, and the Fire Beast seemed to turn liquid, sending bright rays of light bouncing off the stone walls as it faded. While Dalnek was still pulling flames from air that was empty to any but a Mage, Acharya spoke a single word. "Fahndaye," the light from the flames glinted against his eyes and faded deep into his icy blue irises. Dalnek's eyes widened as he tried to shout, but liquid flame began to pour from his mouth; another Eiral Sho'or formed itself and began shredding the carnelian-haired Mage with talons of light. Acharya simply smirked. The other Magi were too stunned to react; even Sylvae was slightly discomfited. If any of them had in fact possessed the presence of mind to do something for Dalnek, they would not have known what and soon the Mage had choked on flames and left only ashes behind. Corridan shook his head, only a little saddened that he could not have done that himself. "Sweet Gods," Felanya swore. "Which one of us is next? You yourself have said that you don't need us, so why are we still here?" Once she had stomped up to the Acharya, she seemed much shorter. "Why do you not just kill us all now?" "As you are now, I have no need of you," he laughed at her anger. "Once you've been Awakened, then maybe you'll be useful. Maybe. One of you, clean that up." Acharya made for the door, not even bothering to step over Dalnek's ashes. He had let the boy burn for too long; there would be no way for Tahdisha to bring the carnelian-haired Mage back to breathing. It was just as well, Acharya reasoned with himself. Torankhayel had not grown strong enough through Dalnek; he really had not belonged. Still, it was a pity… those pyrotechnics of Dalnek's had always been quite impressive. |