Reavers #13: Powers Of The Ov'l Pt II_Reavers

The tentacled horde hurtled towards them in perfect silence, red eyes glittering like the fiery hatred of the Devil. The light of consciousness illuminated them, sending lines of silver rippling over their bodies.

George’s chest turned to ice; it was so cold the air had frozen itself in his throat. With every passing second, the avidraks seemed to get bigger. It wasn’t just that they were nearing, no, but they were growing in size; where they had once been barely half the size of George, they were now quickly double his height, then triple, then quadruple…They reached a size so great they looked like dark moons orbiting around the light of the bright and brilliant hesphyal. Like an all-consuming tide of darkness, threatening to drown out all light.

George shuddered, rooted in the spatiality of his consciousness by invisible chains. All he could do was watch the dark tide creep closer. Every heartbeat was like a furious punch, carrying with it the weight of mountains. Those eyes…those gleaming red eyes…They seemed to see his fear and laugh. And in those eyes, he saw glitters of gold, and a flurry of desperate thoughts overcame him: Sinchara Khan, Turning, Hugh, Windermere Heights…Sparks fired in his head, empty of action but full of furious lightning, searing his mind; he winced.

It was then he heard the voices. They were shrill and tinny, distorted and murmurous. There must have been a thousand of them: sharp voices of iron and hate that seemed to echo through the bowels of his consciousness. Their words were biting, each syllable an inch of steel stabbing his eardrums.

Soft, powerless, weak, one mocking voice hissed. Never could look after yourself: first your father was your shield, then your sister, and now the reavers. You will never be able to stand up for yourself…

He will Turn, came the terse clips of another. He cannot stand against the Powers of the Ov’l. He is too weak.

After those first two voices, they all seemed to coalesce into one furious cacophony of noise, scraping his skull like fingernails on a chalkboard, like sandpaper trying to smooth the folds of his brain. They seemed to come from everywhere, from every direction, every spatial point – focussed on him. He knew, somehow, that those were the voices of the avidraks, which even now still grew in size…

The hesphyal’s light was gone now, completely eclipsed. There was nothing – only darkness.

‘No fear, George.’ Fi’s face was unusually stern. Though her gaze was fixed on the avidraks, her eyes were distant, as if looking for a horizon. ‘Fear is the mind-killer. It makes them stronger, the avidraks. You cannot let your fear rule you.’ She paused. ‘This is your mind, George. These avidraks – they serve you. You are their master, their Ov’l. Do not let them control you.’

The avidraks were almost upon them. Fi’s mouth twitched, and her eyes narrowed. She inhaled sharply, before splaying her arms wide. A barrier of solid pink light materialised between them and the oncoming avidraks – a droplet of light in a sea of furious dark. Fi gulped; and though she tried to hide it, George noticed. His heart raced.

Fi’s hands remained splayed wide, supporting the barrier of pink light. She turned to George. ‘I can only fend them off for so long. Only an Ov’l can control the avidraks. I am too weak.’

If she is too weak, then what does that make me? George shivered. His eyes wandered aimlessly across the figures of the avidraks, examining the dark shapes and contours that made them. The avidraks were so huge they all but drowned out the hesphyal’s light. Finally, his gaze rested on those red eyes, bright, cold, and hateful.

He repressed a shudder, gritting his teeth. The avidrak’s voices buzzed all around him. Fear…is the…mind-killer… He broke the thoughts out from the chains of fear, grunting from the exertion, trying to ignore the avidraks’ hateful hisses. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the mind-killer. Cannot let fear control me… The avidraks were almost upon them now, their dark shapes only paces away. He watched the contours carefully; the avidraks had shrunk ever-so-slightly, and he could see the barest hint of the hesphyal’s silver light. Fear is the mind-killer… He inhaled sharply. This is my mind, and I am in control! He grunted loudly and closed his eyes.

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He tapped into Voidsight, that technique Hugh had taught him back in the Dream Realm, breathing heavily and using the “mental singing” technique Lilly had taught him. It was quicker this time, smoother. Already, he could see how much more able he was getting. The fire in his chest roared; he smiled.

He wasn’t quite sure what he had expected to see in the Voidsight – but whatever his expectations, he could never had guessed this. Sheer blinding light – infinitely stronger than any light he had ever seen before, stronger even than the hesphyal’s – overcame his vision. He could see nothing but furious light: no Fi, no avidraks, no hesphyal…But where fear had once plagued him, now he was overcome by elation. His body tingled with the realisation, and his smile grew to a grin.

Finally, he understood. This is the Power of the Ov’l, he concluded, allowing the light to wash over him and imbue him. His face hardened, but his smile did not die. I just have to control it. I must. He remembered the image of that man, with his long, dark hair and golden eyes. Sinchara Khan. He growled, clenching his fists; his biceps bulged, tensed and readied. I will not let myself Turn!

He didn’t understand what he was doing – but at the same time, he did understand. It was instinct, though an instinct he did not know. He let the Powers of the Ov’l guide him, trusting in them. He reached out to the light at a thousand angles, with a thousand hands reflected in a thousand cracked mirrors. The mirrors’ sheened with gold, but he ignored it. The light, it seemed to coil around him, embrace him; the cold touch of fear was gone, and all he felt was the raw, blazing heat of power.

‘George!’ Fi’s desperate call echoed through his Voidsight. ‘George! I can’t hold them! Only you can!’

There is no fear. Fear is the mind-killer. George grit his teeth. Instinct, George. You must use your instinct. Let the Power of the Ov’l guide you…

He could hear it whispering to him, but the without grating, icy tones of the avidraks. No, the whispers of the Power were soft and velvety, warm and comforting. The Voidlight, the whispers said, could be used, not merely observed through Voidsight. He just had to know how. They guided him through what he had to do – and he followed the commands, wreathing power through his consciousness. On and on the power built within him. He smiled, feeling its needles prick his skin, flood his body with fiery energy. His skin burned, but he pushed through the pain, roaring. It seemed as though he spent millennia charging his Voidlight; in reality, it was only an instant.

And when he had charged as much as he could, the energy was released. But it did not come out controlled – the whispers spoke nothing of control – but as a surging supernova of furious golden light. It rippled from every pore, from every cell and fibre of his body. Gold swept over his vision as though he were drowning in a roaring sea of it; not even the silver glow of the hesphyal could be seen. The barrier of pink light, splayed between Fi’s arms, died in a single, flickering instant. Fi was lost from sight.

As for the avidraks, gold light wreathed and shrouded them, and they shrank into nothingness, bad dreams expelled from his consciousness. He did not fear them. Not anymore. How could he? This power – this glorious power – roared through him. They were no match for it. They were no match for him.

He smiled. I am not weak. I am not weak! I beat the Pillar of Fear!

Fi awoke.

They were no longer in George’s mind: the whitened walls of Taskforce Delta’s training centre gleamed back at her. She got to her feet, pulling her dress around her where it had got loose. Rubbing her eyes blearily, she staggered across the floor to George. She felt ill, with a pounding headache, dry throat, and the unrelenting urge to just shut her eyes and fall asleep.

That light, that golden light…that had been George, hadn’t it? He had finally found his Powers of the Ov’l. She tried to smile but failed.

That golden light, she hadn’t sensed any control in it. It was a raging storm, unaimed and undirected. Thankfully, it had struck the avidraks only, but still, Fi considered, she was lucky to have made it out alive. He must learn to control that power. He cannot let it control him, not unless he wants to Turn…She sighed. What have I done? If he already has power like that…What will he do?

Looking down at the unconscious figure of George at her feet, she tugged his shoulder. He stirred, stretching.

‘George, we need to talk. You can’t do that again; you can’t let the Power control you. The Pillars of Fear and Doubt left you, and the Pillar of Ego overcame you. Controlling your mind is about controlling all three Pillars.’ She frowned. ‘George? Are you listening to me?’

Reavers #13: Powers Of The Ov'l Pt II

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