Chapter 2: The Powered One
A gnarled hand clutched a solid white cane tightly, fingers curling around the smooth round tip of the polished wood. The cane rapped on the floor once, twice, sending out a calling to whomever it was that they wanted. With a groan, the figure stood to greet the person entering the room. While they were the most powerful magic worker around, they still knew and respected common courtesy. "Sytho," the voice was raspy and unsure of itself, as if its owner had not spoken for many eons. Their visitor responded to this standard method of greeting by saying his own hellos in hibertalk and bowing low to the ground. "What news do you bring?" asked the powered one.
"Not good, my great one." The visitor sighed and shook his head, brown hair falling over dark and sorrowful eyes. "What upsets thee, Mition?" the powered one was curious to know what the trouble was and waited expectantly for the answer. When it did not come, they rapped the floor with their cane once more. "Speak," thundered the voice, and however unsure it had been before, any man would quail before it. "She- the girl- has ignored our calling." He winced, knowing how angry the powered one would be. Cringing, he awaited the blow that was sure to come. A moment passed, and hesitantly, he looked up at the cloaked figure.
"She's untamed, wondrous one, and refuses to come to terms with what she is." The powered one lifted a veined hand to stroke the cheek of the man before her. He managed a small smile at this that was quickly replaced with a look of shock and anger when his master dealt him a heavy blow to the face. He fell to the floor in pain, clutching his cheek, where an angry welt was now rising. Not a normal welt, of course, one due to the presence of powerful magic touching normal skin. "You'll just have to try harder, won't you?" The voice was soft, quiet, but no one in their right mind could mistake it for gentleness. There was a dangerous edge, an ominous undertone between every word they spoke that was always present, stretching its claws and waiting to be unleashed.
The powered one's eyes flashed as he stood over his fallen servant, cane held at a ready. The man lay quivering, praying for his life. The great one wrinkled their nose in disgust. How they hated stupid, useless, quivering lumps. Shame, really. Waste of good flesh, on a man (if you could call him that) like this. "Get UP, Finn." The man still did not move and the undertone grew louder, the monster inside getting to its feet, ready to pounce. "Did you not hear me?" the voice menacingly asked. "Get UP!"
"Y-yes, my master," the man stuttered, scrambling to his feet and stumbling over his long cape. "Right away." The powered one nodded, a curt, rude nod and waved a hand to dismiss his follower. "Tell the rest of them," it warned, "that if she does not come, it shall be on their heads."
"Yes, great one, of course." The man walked out with a slightly brighter look on his face.
"Yours too, Finn."
The same drag returned to the man's steps.
"Morning, parental advisories." Amber skipped down the stairs. Her mother was watching her warily, an expression of exasperation highly evident on her face. "I'll be outside," she said brightly, and turned towards the door.
"No, you won't."
That stopped Amber in her tracks. Her mom had TRIED to stand up to her before, but had never really had that firm tone in her voice as she did now. Her voice was utterly steely, so sharp and brittle you could cut yourself on it. "I… wont?" repeated Amber incredulously.
"No, you won't. Your stepfather and I are going to have a talk with you." Amber glanced at her stepfather, who was hovering nervously behind her mother, wringing his hands anxiously. She almost felt sorry for him for a moment, getting stuck with a daughter like her.
Almost.
With a grin, she sidestepped the (rather large) bulk of her mother and started towards the door. "I'm afraid I'll have to pass," she commented, snatching a peach from the glass bowl on the counter and grasping the handle of her door.
"Come back here, Amber."
She turned and surveyed her mother with a mild expression of interest on her face. What was the woman playing at?
"We need to talk to you about your attitude."
Yeah, well, there's a surprise.
"But most of all…" her mother hesitated and Amber's eyebrows shot up. Her mother never acknowledged her gift, never talked about it, surely she wasn't going to-
"about your… ahem… ability."
That was a topic she definitely liked avoiding and she told her mother so. Surprisingly enough, Seth spoke up.
"Not gonna happen."
(A/N: Hope ya liked it,all! Thanks, reviewers!)