Home > Dragon Throne, Part Two(75)

Dragon Throne, Part Two(75)
Author: Stephany Wallace

Easier said than done.

Trying to concentrate, I took a deep breath and lifted my hands before me again. The magic was there, I could feel it, but it wasn’t as magnificent as what he’d just described. It was just a current of energy within me. Not elaborate like his, and I wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that he’d had over two hundred years to master his abilities.

If it took two hundred years for me to be able to wield this power like he did, then I was royally screwed. We all were.

Physically shaking the woeful thoughts out of my head, I scowled at my hands, and waited for “it” to do something. To move, to burst out of me like fireworks. Something. When the first stirring came, I lodged onto it swiftly. Trying not to fight with it, I coaxed it out, or at least I thought I was, but soon the burning ache reached my arms, even as the golden energy began to swirl between my hands.

My core felt like something was slicing it in half, and the magic became unstable in my hold.

“No. No. No!” Raithian roared, running out of patience. “What in the Four Cursed Dragons are you doing? It is simple, Braxton. Let the magic flow from you. Why are you fighting it?!”

“I don’t know!” I shouted back, hurling the energy against the shore before its disruptive force could rip my insides apart, and watching it explode in the water. “This was a mistake. You can’t teach me, and I don’t even want you to,” I snapped and turned around, ready to leave that place.

“Yes. I. Can!” he growled back, appearing in a swirl of green smoke before me, and cutting off my path. “I am the single most powerful Warlock to ever exist. I have accomplished things none of my ancestors ever thought possible. If anyone can make you as formidable as I need you to be, it is me. Trust me, you will never accomplish this on your own.”

“My magic is not like yours, Raithian,” I seethed with disgust. “It can’t be like yours. I won’t let it.”

“It does not matter whether or not our powers are alike,” he rebutted, baffled by my statement. “The force thriving inside you is not your enemy, Braxton. It is your ally! And it is time for you to start treating it as such!”

“It matters!” I shouted, pain and anger bursting in my chest while a storm of images of the horrors he put us through flashed before my eyes. “My power will never be like yours because I’m not evil like you! I will die before I let you turn me into the monster you are.”

The Warlock King stepped back from the shock my words caused, and for a moment, I thought my statement might have hurt him. Blinking, he gazed at the water where my power had disintegrated and then back at me, laughter erupting from him.

He was laughing. WTF?

“So, this fight of yours, against your own ability may I add, is because you think you might somehow turn into me?” he asked, flabbergasted, another bout of laughter shaking his chest.

My hands fisted in response, fire burning through my being. The very real fear that had clawed its way into me and tortured my mind in the darkness was nothing but a joke him. Still, a part of me couldn’t help but compare us, wondering if holding that kind of power above everyone could one day turn me into a monster too.

“Do not be naïve,” he scuffed. “The power that runs through my veins was given by the Four Cursed Dragons themselves. You could never be me, even if you were my own flesh and blood.” The staff reappeared in his hold, and he shook his head slowly. “No one can ever be like me.”

If he only knew we were in fact connected by flesh and blood…

Confused by my silene, he stepped forwards. “Do you honestly believe my evil will flourish inside you only because I train you to use your powers?”

I couldn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say, even though a little voice inside me screamed yes!

Raithian’s eyes bore into mine, like he could see something in me that I didn’t see myself. Silence stretched between us as we stared at each other, and another realization hit me. To him, the Four Cursed Dragons were actually the Sky Gods.

Exhaling, he turned towards the beach, his gaze getting lost somewhere beyond the horizon.

“Let go of the notions that hold you back, Braxton. They will not serve you to become as powerful as you can be. Instead, hold on to that which you believe to be true in your essence. That is your true self, and no one can take it away from you, no matter how much they hate you… or love you. We are what we are.”

“Is that what you did?” I asked, unable to help myself. “You let go of the good that lived inside you, of those who loved you, and let the darkness become your true self?”

I didn’t expect an answer, and I was right.

Facing me again, he lifted his hand, focusing on the energy flowing from his fingertips. It effortlessly grew between the two of us, swirling and multiplying until a Dragon of pure light formed in the air. The creature flew above our heads, its translucent form roaring until it exploded into shimmering beams of green light.

“Magic is not inherently good,” he confessed while the sparks showered the area around us, growing into flowers that bloomed from its energy. “It is not inherently evil…” The flowers twisted and withered suddenly, writhing in pain until their falling light petals turned into the fractured pieces of a skull, scattering all over the ground. “It just is.”

The eerie scene disappeared, leaving nothing but soft sand in its wake.

“If you try to command it, to contain it into a ‘weapon’ of your mind’s making, it will fight back with every ounce of force it possesses,” he explained. “A Wizard’s magic was never meant to be wielded, Braxton. It is meant to be set free. So set it free.”

“How do I set it free to fight?”

Frustration darkened his features. “You are asking the wrong question. It is not something you wield, Braxton. It is something you feel.”

Something I feel…

I searched for the feeling of magic inside me. Once I reached it, I pulled from it again, trying to create another sphere. Pain tore through my insides instantly, the power fighting against me at every turn.

“I can’t do it,” I groaned, shaking the ache out of my arms.

“Because you are using your mind!” he shouted back, clearly exasperated. “Stop thinking!”

The next second, he disappeared only to reappear about twenty feet away from me. Extending both arms, ropes of light burst from his palms, whirling in the air as they shot towards me, dangerously fast. The memory of his rope wrapping around Evanna’s neck flashed in my mind and something reacted.

A burst of golden power surged from my palms in response, disintegrating his ropes on contact, and leaving only a rain of sparks between us.

Panting from the rush the blast left in me, I stepped back.

“Your magical essence takes over you because it recognizes the danger you are in, and you do not know what to do with it,” Raithian explained, still standing across from me. “You did not will it to fight back. Nevertheless, it did… for you. Let go of what holds you back, Braxton.”

Swallowing, I glanced at my hands. He was right. Each and every time my magic had appeared, it was an instinct that took over me. It fought back because it needed to protect me.

“Let go of the evil inside you…” the Truth Teller’s voice suddenly filtered into my mind, bouncing through my consciousness over and over.

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