CV.

The Scheming Witch discharged the mass of flow which had been tamed

By Ríona’s shield and quickly griped the reigns of her host.

In a jerk, she twitched each muscle in her body, and with utmost

Precision brought her feet beneath her torso trained,

Preparing a savage strike. With ferocious poise she jumped up

Elegantly, each move calculated and leaving no room for let-up.

Wasting no breaths on inadequate form, her eyes now inflamed

And adorned in purpurate blaze, flashing in the lowly light untamed.

CVI.

“A grudge you sought to settle and a debt you shall have repaid!”

The goddess roared, causing trembling tremors throughout the keep,

Before charging at her nemesis. With a great and sudden leap

She met his forestalling knife as he prepared a flow’s grenade.

She swiftly pulled out Ríona’s spear-staff from its bony sheathe,

Glanced his hand and cast aside the dagger from underneath.

Promptly, she snatched his free hand in which flow was being swayed

And burned it to a crisp: by a touch of pure embers dismayed.

CVII.

Alas, the spirits changed again, and the Tsar was left helpless

Before the sheer might of the goddess. His old and battered

Body could not withstand the youth of his foe. Woe meets great, haggard

Scholars of their crafts with the sword of progress ever reckless!

Today no different would fate remain. With ease, she grabbed a hold

Of his neck and torso, lifting him up so he could his fate behold.

Sharply, she slammed him unto the cobbled floor with dire success

And lo, he was now at the mercy of her flawless finesse.

CVIII.

Pleading as if to buy some time: “O, Aurianne, I beg thee!

Show us mercy! I am a madman in old soldier’s wear,

At mercy of the whims of my guest, whom forlorn fate shall not spare

As we perish to languor. Show honour in thine heart lordly

But once in thy life, I beg!” The goddess mistook the host for his guest

And, therefore, chose to indulge him in his pleadings expressed.

The air she filled with her maniacal laughter of sinister glee

Before answering the Tsar’s pitiful and pathetic plea.

CIX.

“How quaint and oh-so reminding! Thy warlike ways hath always been

Stuck in the past, likewise thy methods crude and imprecise!

Thou canst not match the speed of Ríona’s youth with any device

From the Tsar’s accrued tricks from the fray. Thou hast tried to careen

My way one time too many, Balthazar! She’d seek her lore;

Lore thine host would have kindly given! Regrettably, I abhor

Such a notion! I cannot let it be by daylight seen.”

She finished her tirade with a foul cackle and a grin.

CX.

Her palm became adorned in purpurate flames as she slowly

Began to reach towards the Tsar’s neck. Piercing pain that shot

Throughout his body, brought his resolute mind back from the rot,

If only for a moment. He inquired desperately:

“And what do you intend to manufacture in this juncture?

Cover up all my search and study, all my conjecture?

Burn it? Destroy it from our very living memory?

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Bring upon it all the foreboding fury of thy flow holy?”

CXI.

This managed to halt her yet again, the ultimate weakness

Of her ever scheming, methodical and meandering mind;

The pleasure of toying with her soon-to-be loose end twined:

“Burn it, sayest thee? Crude, though a most effective process.

Perhaps, I could use some of it as bait? A vicious lure,

Like a carrot at the end of a stick for my girl immature?

Perhaps turn it into snow, or water or air? Coalesce

It with the very flow? What difference does that profess?”

CXII.

“For I have won, and thou hast lost!” In her musings, she failed

To notice the Tsar reaching into his pocket, retrieving

A fistful of an odd, powdered substance. Her mind weaving

Her devious plans, inattentive to her foe’s plans veiled.

He scoffed: “Thou art good, goddess, alas, thou art testing the price

In thy arrogance!” Swiftly he acted upon sharing his advice,

Bringing his palm before his mouth and blowing. This act assailed

The goddess’ face with the powdered dust, which she forthwith inhaled.

CXIII.

Caught by surprise, she launched into a ruthless coughing fit

Which filled her very eyes with fiery rage. Her anger burst out

In bouts of curses, as she grabbed the dagger lying about

On the floor and began to stab at his chest. She had commit

To a butchery abhorrent, as blood gushed and spilled athwart

The room in speckled sprays. No living being could ever thwart

The onslaught, yet as soon as the powder was ingested, it

Began its eerie work, and she knew to fate she had to submit.

CXIV.

In a manner of heartbeats, a languor – a weariness embraced

The spirit of Aurianne. As she quickly realized

How it worked, and at the thought became utterly paralyzed.

All her plans up to this point could be manoeuvred and interlaced

With the growing power of her host, including the clouding

Of her sharp mind, however, this will cause her ambition’s shrouding.

To such a scheme, she had not believed she’d fall. So disgraced

Yet again, finding her talents and plans all go to waste.

CXV.

No longer than a few moments later, Ríona regained

Her cognizance to this dreaded scene. In horror, she observed

The man who laid in her bloody arms; her hand still on the curved

Dagger which protruded upward from the Tsar’s chest bloodstained.

Miraculously, though his breathing was faint, he lived still

For this brief moment. When his gaze her innocent eyes did fill,

He met them with a melancholic smirk that was unashamed,

Reached up to her face and brushed away the tears unfeigned.

CXVI.

“Shh… shh… ‘Tis alright, my child. Both of our destinies foretold

Of our paths. Mine too long and too old to be still accordant

With the Tribe Mothers. Thine of utter concern and important:

To thee, to the Outerworldly and to the Innerworldly fold.

I give to thee my gift of lore.” He reached in his pocket

And brought out his black leather-bound grimoire and a locket:

I give thee, my powder of mists, like powers you already hold

Through your sheer ingenuity, howbeit, stronger thousandfold!”

CXVII.

“Use it sparingly, with caution, and with respect; and not

Follow in my steps. Read the book, memorise it, destroy it

For holy eyes must never feast their wicked eyes upon it!

Never abuse it or thou shalt fall into thy dest’ny’s wrought

Without recourse!” With these final words he finally perished,

And the air suddenly became lighter, as two souls cherished

Left the Outerworld, with another yielding to the slumber’s plot.

Now Ríona was utterly alone and by silence besot.