A Lighting of the Candle

  • Posted on: 8 March 2012
  • By: sherwood

Candt Lesarion stood alone on the hillock, a stoic expression on his face, the mantra he used for meditation running through his head. Despite the raging chaos below him, a kind of serenity seemed to inhabit the small space above the hillock. A breeze even dared blow, banishing the smoke and sound of screaming men for a brief moment.
The Taunshin had arrived earlier that day, a demonic storm that encroaches upon one of the last bastions of mankind's resistance. Word has it that an Armada is close by, but the men of Lesarion's army knew they would be no help even if they were inclined to ally.

A calm resolve seemed to spread over Lesarion, as the decision suddenly became easy. If he did nothing, that is just what all that minkind would be in a very short time as the demonic hordes enslaved and exterminated.

Eyes closed, taking short measured breaths Lesarion could feel the energy around him; all-encompassing like the heat from the sun. His arms came up and his fingers spread sending little bursts of static sizzling into the atmosphere. The Candt's eyes flared open, glowing a radiant white with tinges of red flickering at the edges.

The channel of energy, the conduit from which he drew his arcane power was always with him, always on just a trickle. Partly because he loved the feel of it and partly because, he simply did not know how to shut it completely off since he and the others turned it on. When they attempted to manipulate objects and evoke fire and ice with this energy there were limits in what they could draw fourth and how much it drained them.

This was going to be exhausting.

Candt Lesarion let loose his mental block on the channel and drew in as much energy as he thought he could stand. Then he widened the channel. Screaming now from the pain, Lesarion drew still more power fourth. Long arcs of electricity and fire began to fall from the sky towards the Candt, slamming into him and suffusing him with a glowing, awe-inspiring nimbus. He began to rise from the influx of power until his feet were levitating several feet above the ground.

The power! He had done it! Surely this much could do something strong enough to make the demons fear! Though he was fearful holding this much power could permanently damage his ability to cast, but it could not be helped. This is what they had studied, and tested and tested more for.

Suddenly, Lesarion pointed towards the field of battle, focusing on the combatants. He could sense something from the demonic horde, a type of emanation allowing him to distinguish the mortals from the planar invaders. Focusing on this, he diverted a portion of his enormous stockhold of energy and dropped the whole bloody sky on them.

Meteorites streaking purple flame crashed enerringly into demonic combatants while leaving there human counterparts unscathed, though a tad dazed at the sudden fortune. Lighting strikes that lit up the field and seemed to last for seconds at a time would fork in, cooking whole legions of demons. Huge flaming orbs of cinder and coal flattened unfortunate clusters of enemies.

Lesarion felt alive, in fact he felt more than alive. He could sense things and see things that were not possible before. The sheer magnitude of the power he held! Unbelievable! Each time he reached up to the sky he felt something new he could manipulate, some new resource to drop on the heads of the demons.

Despite the ferocity of his attack, he knew his strategy was flawed. There were simply too many to eliminate one-by-one.

That is when he decided to crack the earth.

Candt Lesarion focused downward, through his legs and feet into the earth. Further downward he sent it, ignoring all distractions. Despite this a small portion of his vastly augmented awareness picked up a new threat: vibrations coming from the ground indicated a foe of immense proportions.

His awareness picked up the tracks of an underground river and a pockmarked cavern system below the main part of the battle. Forming a bridge in his mind with the power at his disposal, he brought his hands together, metaphysically merging them with the earth the pulled them apart as if he were parting grain.

The groan of rock and earth rending was a cacophony of destruction, an onslaught to all the senses. A vast chasm almost a mile wide ripped through the plain where the bulk of the demonic army had yet to engage. With his link to the earth, it felt as if he were tearing a portion of himself apart, but he did not relent. The ocean began to fill the gap, bubbling and frothing as it spilled fourth into the newly created geographic feature. Stunned, the remainder of the demonic army and the humans could do little but stare. What had been, only recently, a doomed conflict had quite unexpectedly and miraculously turned a most impressive tide.

Candt was screaming incoherently, floating nearly a man's height off the ground, gesticulating wildly and destroying demons with every second. Barely in control, riding an avalanche of power he was hanging on by a thread. There was no going back now. He had just learned so much in such a short time, he now knew he could not sustain this. He had exceeded his body's capacity and his energy was beginning to bleed through. He needed to finish this as quickly as possible and pass on what he had gained before it became lost, but he had ensured the survival of mankind and turned away the demonic horde.

Candt Drendtatus held the Candle in his hand and marveled. Locked inside this innocuous item lay the most powerful and dreadful secrets known to mankind. Layer upon layer of information, encrypted in the most ingenious way by Candt Lesarion. All the knowledge in the world could be seen in the flame of this Candle. And Drendtatus had all the time in the world to study it.

-On becoming the first, and second Candlekeepers. From the Histories of Magicks, by Leronchus Bayde, Traditionhouse of Raem.
Librarian's note: Cross reference this with "geographic features formed by magic."