09-17-2013, 05:48 AM
Something was wrong.
At first, Michael had not noticed, he thought the woman had simply sat down. He was so immersed in his own thoughts he did not see the pain in her face until he had finished.
His first thought was that it was some kind of method of control used by the Atharim, and he seized the power, although the gesture was pointless. He would not be able to heal whatever was wrong even if he knew - but still, he could not sit idle.
The power brought him calm and he recalled the dim memory of...strangeness. She had said some strange things. She knew when he was channelling somehow, and had said something about 'people like her'.
After a moment's hesitation, he extended a probing thread towards the woman. He almost instantly recoiled, but his control was iron. There was something...different about her. He did not know what, or why, but it was as if she had an extra limb - not physically of course.
He watched as her fingernails dug into her palms, drawing blood, unable to do anything, unwilling to risk any kind of further examination or attempt at healing.
So he did the only thing he could to ease the pain. He spun a thread of Spirit around her head, pinpointing the exact spot he needed. Once he found it, he extended the thread and the woman slumped immediately in deep sleep.
It was something that he had learned fairly early. It was the most effective way of dealing with unwanted attention. The target would simply fall to sleep, waking a few minutes later - giving him time to leave.
Michael sat down beside the sleeping woman feeling even more exhausted than he had before. He doubted she would be pleased when she awoke, but was losing control of herself - he didn't know why or how, but he knew the look of someone who was about to lose control; far too well - and he did not want to see her harm herself.
As he sat waiting for the woman to wake up, he reflected on the absurdity of the situation. He had set out to hunt his hunters, yet here he was watching over this tiny woman. He shook his head, spinning threads of Fire and Air to warm himself, the cold weather had started to grate while he did not hold the power.
After a few moments, she stirred, and Michael stood up, giving her space. "How are you feeling?"
he asked. "I did what I could."
He did not bother explaining, he doubted it would matter, he hardly understood it himself. Besides, there was something else much more pressing to ask. "What was that? You are not just an ordinary person, are you?"
At first, Michael had not noticed, he thought the woman had simply sat down. He was so immersed in his own thoughts he did not see the pain in her face until he had finished.
His first thought was that it was some kind of method of control used by the Atharim, and he seized the power, although the gesture was pointless. He would not be able to heal whatever was wrong even if he knew - but still, he could not sit idle.
The power brought him calm and he recalled the dim memory of...strangeness. She had said some strange things. She knew when he was channelling somehow, and had said something about 'people like her'.
After a moment's hesitation, he extended a probing thread towards the woman. He almost instantly recoiled, but his control was iron. There was something...different about her. He did not know what, or why, but it was as if she had an extra limb - not physically of course.
He watched as her fingernails dug into her palms, drawing blood, unable to do anything, unwilling to risk any kind of further examination or attempt at healing.
So he did the only thing he could to ease the pain. He spun a thread of Spirit around her head, pinpointing the exact spot he needed. Once he found it, he extended the thread and the woman slumped immediately in deep sleep.
It was something that he had learned fairly early. It was the most effective way of dealing with unwanted attention. The target would simply fall to sleep, waking a few minutes later - giving him time to leave.
Michael sat down beside the sleeping woman feeling even more exhausted than he had before. He doubted she would be pleased when she awoke, but was losing control of herself - he didn't know why or how, but he knew the look of someone who was about to lose control; far too well - and he did not want to see her harm herself.
As he sat waiting for the woman to wake up, he reflected on the absurdity of the situation. He had set out to hunt his hunters, yet here he was watching over this tiny woman. He shook his head, spinning threads of Fire and Air to warm himself, the cold weather had started to grate while he did not hold the power.
After a few moments, she stirred, and Michael stood up, giving her space. "How are you feeling?"
he asked. "I did what I could."
He did not bother explaining, he doubted it would matter, he hardly understood it himself. Besides, there was something else much more pressing to ask. "What was that? You are not just an ordinary person, are you?"
"She saw a flaring halo around his head, radiant in gold and blue. It shouted of glory and power to come"
"No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it."