back to basics
"Some honeymoon this is turning out to be,"
Menhara murmured as she pulled the hood of her cloak around her face. Fear
shone in her eyes, though she fought to hide it, and she stepped out of
the Yawning Portal with quick, purposeful steps. Behind her, she knew Taryn
tended to Quaster's wound, and she felt a small tinge of guilt at her lack
of concern for the man; her confidence in the healer's ability was strong,
though, so it was merely a passing thought. She moved through the streets
quickly, lost deep in thought. She cursed her ex-husband under her breath
for keeping her out of the room while Berion and Taryn tended Basalt; it
was a foolish thought, but she felt there might have been something she
could have done. Now there was something - a demon, she wondered, or merely
an angry spirit? - loose that took Basalt's body and used it to wield enormous
power. She had poured a good deal of her own power into the shield, and
it had only served to delay him. Finally, she reached her destination,
and she stepped into the library with a silent nod to the guard. As she
pulled her hood back, her fingers brushed the bump on her head where she
had been hit. "I'm too old for this," she muttered to herself, the phrase
having come much more frequently since her birthday. She could not, however,
ignore the danger posed to her friends. She needed to study. She needed
to find some way to tap into even greater powers. The library, its shelves
of books far taller than she, was as familiar to the woman as her Church.
Before the birth of the twins she had spent hours on end here, studying
all she could, and if she had one regret about her life it was that she
no longer studied. It showed in her magic as well; just as her fighting
had become poor after arriving in Westbridge, her hold on her power was
slipping with disuse. Lights for her children, her own flight, the occasional
musical creation - all were simple tricks to her, nothing more. As she
surveyed the shelves of books, however, it was these that she realized
she must focus on. Years before, Trista had begun her instruction in magic
by speaking on each wizard's core, their focus. She had drawn upon it in
her attempt to detain Basalt. Floating from the ground without a thought,
she scanned the books until finding a tome she'd passed by years before.
Taking it into her hands, she nodded and returned to the ground. She would
claim no mastery, but if there was one area of magic she felt she had the
firmest grasp of, it was the elements. Air for her flight, water to keep
her dry in the rain, fire to keep her children warm, light for so many
reasonsand earth she had been dappling in with her music, though she knew
this was easily her weak link. The book carefully held in her arms, she
moved to a table and sat. Lighting the candle with a brush of her fingertip,
she opened the tome and began to read.
