63. Tairyn

sixty-three

Tairyn

I look on in horror as Callum throws himself from the second-story window, nearly landing on top of Mira. I curse the idiot under my breath as I slam all my magic against the black tendrils of Yurghen's power trying to claim him.

Cor'than, at least, is doing well, holding off Yurghen's reinforcements by splitting his Chroma. He blocks their path with shields of air with one part and channels what he can spare into my weaves, letting me direct and flow his power in the battle.

But Callum… damn him. He's vulnerable now, his Chroma splattering against Yurghen's like a bird hitting a window. He barely has time to recover before Yurghen is upon him, seeping into the gaps in his defenses. I can only hope that Mira can hold him off while I alter my strategy.

I clench my teeth, heart pounding as I hurl every ounce of Chroma I can muster at the approaching monstrosity. My magic collides with his dark energy, violet against the inky black, but it's like trying to hold back a tidal wave with your hands.

More lightning from the sky comes to Yurghen's aid, pulling in the souls of the lost like moth to the flame. More and more circle and surround the area, watching the struggle between good and evil.

Desperate and uncertain, I pull back into myself, gathering the threads of my power and twisting them together. It's a reckless move, one that could easily backfire and consume me from the inside out.

Instead of pulling the single thread of purple Chroma so easily accessible, the power granted by the Chromatic Gods, I yank the full spectrum of color as it coalesces into a brilliant white. A trickle flows from me, barely reaching Yurghen.

Immediately the souls are drawn to it, swarming the magic linking me to the dark magi.

Not long ago Yurghen could channel white, but now he's tainted with the stain of evil acts so atrocious it's broken his own soul beyond repair.

Let's hope this doesn't do the same to me.