Lack of Control

Goleil could not believe his eyes.

The information they provided to him contradicted what he thought was possible.

He had targetted a single man with what he had thought to be an appropriate amount of power, only to have hundreds kneeling before him like he was a King.

Goleil mustered up the blood-red power into his throat, trying to wrest control over the tempest around him.

"Rise!"

This time, he didn't target anyone, but his words had an effect all the same.

It was as if the invisible hand that had pushed them to their knees had disappeared as the people within the Colosseo slowly looked up at Goleil and then shakily rose to their feet.

Silence reigned once more until a single enthusiastic clap broke it.

"I knew you were a king!" Mord shouted, a grin on his face.

Gwen was still gasping for air and sighed when she heard this.

Goleil withdrew the dark energies into his heart, where they had been stored.

He looked out at the stands and shouted, "I apologize to everyone here; it was not my intention to make you bow your heads to me! It seems I still have to work on my control of mana."

Goleil bowed to the remaining knights, some of whom still pointed their weapons in his direction.

"My apologies and thanks for entering into combat with me."

He then walked to his companions and was shocked by what he found. Erikson was still out cold, and Tyria looked like she was captivated by the middle distance. Gwen could barely breathe, and although Mord seemed fine, Goleil could tell something was wrong.

He wore a mask different than Goleil's. It was one he wore over his emotions, but fear bubbled up and over. As he looked at the Sun Guard, a bead of sweat went down his face.

'What have I done?' Goleil thought, 'Just how powerful was my command?'

"I'm sorry," He said hoarsely, "I didn't mean to do this."

Gwen shook her head, finally regaining her breath and sitting cross-legged on the ground. "It's fine, Goleil. It must have been a while since you've used this power, so, understandably, you would have trouble controlling it." She looked at him with a hint of respect.

"To make even those proud nobles kneel, it must have been strong magic. I won't even ask why your mana is colored the way it is, most likely a Vrean secret." She chuckled, "You should be careful of your allies, though. We will have to visit Murdoc."

Goleil nodded and checked on Erikson, who seemed the worst off. Checking his pulse, it seemed that he wasn't dead and was not in danger of dying either.

'What could be wrong with him?' He thought.

Ty'Bral appeared next to him, two arms clasped in front of him and two behind his back.

"My Lord, sometimes mortals with little to no exposure to mana can have heightened reactions to a strong spell. Especially since it was Eldritch Magic and your spell directly influenced the brain of its victims, it might've simply been too much. I assure you, he will be fine within a day."

Goleil scoffed. 'What's with you? Mocking me again? I'll have you know that I only used your people's magic because I had no other choice.'

Ty'Bral raised an eyebrow. It had seemed to him that Goleil had very much enjoyed the Eldritch Magic. Nevertheless, he said, "Make no mistake, my Lord. I am not mocking you. It's just that your spell also affected me, and I was enlightened to your true station."

"True station? Enlightened?"

Ty'Bral nodded calmly. "Yes, it was revealed to me that you are the Adzarch. It is clear that I am like you in a way; my memories are broken and fragmented." He looked out across the field of knights and squires quietly leaving, the nobles filing out of the Colosseo quickly, and the healers rushing around in a panic.

"But the pain of almost being crushed to death reminded me. The Adzarch is the name of a prophesized position, and in the eldritch tongue, it means Old King. It is said that the Adzarch will one day control all of Annwn and finally end the humans."

"End the humans?!" Goleil shouted and remembered that Ty'Bral was imaginary.

Gwen looked at him like he was crazy.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, "Erikson was muttering something."

'My apologies, friend!' He thought as he glanced at the sleeping blacksmith.

Ty'Bral chuckled at his misstep. "Indeed! It seems you are a true Eldritch, Godling!"

'Absolutely not. I am a human, so why would I end them?!'

The pseudo-eldritch shrugged. "Perhaps it will be unintentional. Prophesies are strange in that they have a way of coming true in a most peculiar fashion."

'Let's hope it doesn't come true at all...'

Goleil refocused his attention on Tyria, who still appeared to be somewhere else in her mind.

"Lady Tyria, are you alright?" Goleil said, shaking her slightly.

She did not respond.

Goleil looked at Gwen. "Can you slap her?"

Gwen's eyebrows shot up. "What?! That's the princess of Redvale!"

Goleil sighed and thought, 'Ty'Bral, what is the issue here?'

"Probably just reliving some trauma. She'll snap out of it in the next thirty seconds."

Sure enough, Lady Colm gasped for air as she grabbed the next object, which happened to be Goleil.

As she sucked in air as if it were a divine elixir, she held onto Goleil's arm tightly.

Gwen and Mord sucked in a breath.

As a seasoned veteran, caring for a scared compatriot was no sweat. He immediately wrapped his other arm around Tyria, holding her tight.

He said nothing, only lending her his warmth and the security an embrace brought.

After a few seconds, Lady Colm seemed to recover slightly and realized someone was hugging her. Upon recognizing the golden fabric, she pushed Goleil away with all her might.

Goleil let go of her and immediately said, "I'm sorry, but it seemed you needed a hug."

Tyria's eyes narrowed, her chest heaving as she took heavy breaths. She glanced at Gwen and asked, "What happened?"

Gwen immediately rocketed to attention, her back as straight as a board. "Lady Colm, upon waking up, you grasped his arm tightly, and he embraced you. Before this, he was attending to the armorer."

Tyria nodded and sighed in relief. She looked at Goleil with thinly veiled suspicion. "We have much to discuss, Goleil. Come to the keep tomorrow morning at dawn."

And with that, she left, beckoning for Gwen to come with her.

Mord sighed and said, "You got lucky, your Majesty. I have heard that she cuts off fingers for such transgressions."

Goleil chuckled. "What a strange woman."