"Outwitted (Part fifteen)" an original work of fiction for the #365...

This is today's offering (day 171) for @mydivathings' #365daysofwriting challenge (click here to see her current post)

Today's picture prompt (below) is a Photo by Alex Iby on Unsplash

I sat by the lake for a while, I am not sure how long, basking in the residue of the power, that crackled over the shimmering surface of the lake. That there was so much energy left after she had vanished was testament to how strong she had become. I was in awe, and my jealousy grew stronger.

The sun was climbing in the sky. Pewds would probably be awake now. He would be worried.I should have gone back to Pewds, told him about this place, and brought him back to help me understand it.

But I didn’t.

Perhaps, if I had, things would have turned out differently. Perhaps I would have chosen a different route. But perhaps Grevyl was right: with what was inside me, I was always destined to walk this path.

As the last few sparks of power fizzed upon the surface of the lake, I decided to explore the rest of the garden.

There were many plants and herbs I recognised from home, and many more that I had come across in dried form, or had read about, but had never seen growing. I was tempted to harvest some of the rarer plants, but I didn’t have anything to carry them back in. I could see a building, on the far side of the garden. Perhaps I could find a basket, or something, in there.

As I neared the building I could see it was bigger than I had first thought. It was on one level, but far from being just for storage or for cultivating plants I could see that it was a residence of some description. Perhaps - if this place did belong to Mathilde, which given the resemblance of the lake and garden to that of our childhood home, seemed likely - there would be some artifacts within, that would benefit my work. Knowing my sister, and her shadowy mentor, as I did, I did not really imagine they would be so careless, but I could not resist the opportunity to have a snoop.

I could see the house was well cared for. Other than my sister, I had not seen anyone else here, but I doubted it was she who took such care in maintaining the place.

“Hello?” I called as I reached the door of the house. I knocked on the door, and then tried the handle. The door swung open, without a sound. “Hello?” Still nothing. I stepped inside.

The room I found myself in was - like the garden - was laid out in the style of our country. I was certain this had been constructed for Mathilde. There were comfortable looking sofas, and bookshelves, full of books written in our language. A quick scan of the titles revealed nothing of interest: general history and biography. Nothing on the power.

I moved on through the house, checking room after room. Finally, almost ready to give up, I discovered a door that did not swing open at my touch. I closed my eyes and connected with the power. It was fastened with a simple lock - nothing magical. A simple twist and I heard a satisfying click and the door swung open. I stepped inside.

This was what I had been seeking. It was laid out like the room Grevyl had set up for Mathilde in the Big House. There were no clouds carpeting the floor, but I could sense the power in this room. I ran my finger over the wooden surface of a desk and could feel the dust coating it, even before I held it up to the light to see it. This room had been used for magic. I felt a tingling shiver run up my spine. I began to examine all the machinery looking for clues as to how they worked. I suspected - rightly as it turned out - that Grevyl had found a way of manufacturing dust and thereby increasing the power available to Mathilde. I resolved to return with Pewds, and some locals. I would strip this place of everything I could take.

As I examined one strange contraption I heard what sounded like a footfall in the corridor outside the room. I looked up and saw the frightened face of a young girl, before she turned on her heels and ran from the room.

“Wait!” I shouted. “Come back! I won’t hurt you!” But either she didn’t hear, didn’t understand or did not trust my words. I felt the power rise in me. I could not let this girl go, I realised. I could not risk her contacting my sister. If she was alerted somehow to my presence in this house any advantage I now had would be lost.

The dust in the room was concentrated and the power was so strong it was hard to breath, I was almost suffocating. I felt myself inflate with the energy. It was overwhelming but so exhilarating!

Feeling the need to stop the girl in her tracks I let the magic find her and felt it surround her, building a prison of power to trap her within its walls. I heard her scream in terror and far from distressing me I felt a thrill of delight. I could feel the walls squeeze the life out of her: I hadn’t meant for her to die, but I let it happen. And I can not deny that I enjoyed it! As the walls of power crushed the girl into dust, I struggled to control the energy and had to use all my forces to stop it from consuming me. By the time I had managed to dampen it down I was exhausted and I flopped weakly to the floor.

I lay on the floor of the room, by breathing shallow, watching the dust shimmer and crackle, a smile on my lips. And then I fell into a deep sleep.

...

Part sixteen: @felt.buzz/outwitted-part-sixteen-an-original-work-of-fiction-for-365daysofwriting-challenge

"Outwitted (Part fifteen)" an original work of fiction for the #365daysofwriting challenge