and rose, flows of magma pouring from it, until at last the true scale and terror of the skull presented itself. Whatever this thing was, in life men were but ants to it.
Erygion strained his Caliber to lift the thing, leveling it out as best he could. Its massive bulk blocked all the glow of the lava beneath it and molten earth still poured from the mouth. Nuriel gasped, awestruck, wondering if in life the monstrous thing might have consumed the entire world in flames.
Erygion growled as he maintained his hold, obviously struggling to keep the thing level as the weight of molten earth pouring from the mouth kept it tilting too far down at the jaw. Most Saints could not channel their Caliber strongly enough to manipulate heavy objects from a distance, but Erygion was a rare exception. In fact, it was his specialty. But the skull was heavy and he was struggling. His muscles tensed and his hands balled into fists. Erygion’s Caliber shown brightly, but here and there it wavered and Erygion growled as he tried to maintain his hold. The skull rose higher until it was finally at eye level, but now Erygion began to tire and Nuriel could see his Caliber losing some of its shine.
“Come on Erygion,” urged Celacia. “You’ve almost got it.”
Erygion shook his head. “I don’t think I can swing it over,” he said through clenched teeth.
Without thinking, Nuriel reached over and touched Erygion on the shoulder and shined her Caliber. Immediately her body was encompassed by an aura of white light that seemed to bolster Erygion’s own and the skull flew upwards as if it had suddenly lost half its weight. From behind, Nuriel could hear the incoherent chatter as the soldiers looked on in awe of the titanic skull. She was vaguely aware that Celacia and Isley were intently watching her too, but shining her Caliber this brightly required all her attention and the effort was made even more draining for the fact that she still had a headache and she was certain she was getting a cold.
Nuriel groaned as Erygion turned around, moving the skull from the pit to the solid cavern floor. As soon as the skull touched the ground Nuriel released her grip on Erygion and hunched over with her arms resting on her knees, panting. The skull had been far heavier than she imagined, and she had not realized that the effort would have drained her so completely.
“Wow, Nuriel! You’re full of surprises, aren’t you!” chirped Celacia. She gave a little clap of her hands and hurried over to the skull, leaving a trail of crumbled, dead stone in her wake.
Still panting, Nuriel felt the heavy, gauntleted hand of Saint Isley clank upon the back of her star-metal breastplate. “Very few Saints can do that, you know.” said Isley. “Quite impressive. I wonder if one day you won’t surpass even Erygion in his ability to move objects?”
“Thanks,” said Nuriel, standing back up, but somehow she wasn’t sure if she truly deserved to be thanked for what she had helped accomplish. She sniffled and coughed and stroked her hair back behind her ear.
Celacia, Erygion and many of the soldiers were already gathering around the skull, looking as diminutive as ants crawling about carrion. It sat at the edge of the pit, caked in quickly-cooling black crust that showed through to veins of pulsing, fiery lava. The lower jaw bone was still intact with the upper skull and the mouth was open in a large, cavernous gape, propped up by one of the many fangs that no longer sat quite right in the mouth. The empty eye sockets were deep and cavernous. Cooling pools of molten earth within them seemed to give them life and they stared at Nuriel with what she thought an eerie, piercing intention. She wrapped her arms around her body. She stood in awe and horror of the thing, until finally she had to turn her head away, certain the thing looked upon her with contempt for helping to release it.
“Come, Nuriel,” said Isley. “You did good. Celacia was very pleased
Erygion strained his Caliber to lift the thing, leveling it out as best he could. Its massive bulk blocked all the glow of the lava beneath it and molten earth still poured from the mouth. Nuriel gasped, awestruck, wondering if in life the monstrous thing might have consumed the entire world in flames.
Erygion growled as he maintained his hold, obviously struggling to keep the thing level as the weight of molten earth pouring from the mouth kept it tilting too far down at the jaw. Most Saints could not channel their Caliber strongly enough to manipulate heavy objects from a distance, but Erygion was a rare exception. In fact, it was his specialty. But the skull was heavy and he was struggling. His muscles tensed and his hands balled into fists. Erygion’s Caliber shown brightly, but here and there it wavered and Erygion growled as he tried to maintain his hold. The skull rose higher until it was finally at eye level, but now Erygion began to tire and Nuriel could see his Caliber losing some of its shine.
“Come on Erygion,” urged Celacia. “You’ve almost got it.”
Erygion shook his head. “I don’t think I can swing it over,” he said through clenched teeth.
Without thinking, Nuriel reached over and touched Erygion on the shoulder and shined her Caliber. Immediately her body was encompassed by an aura of white light that seemed to bolster Erygion’s own and the skull flew upwards as if it had suddenly lost half its weight. From behind, Nuriel could hear the incoherent chatter as the soldiers looked on in awe of the titanic skull. She was vaguely aware that Celacia and Isley were intently watching her too, but shining her Caliber this brightly required all her attention and the effort was made even more draining for the fact that she still had a headache and she was certain she was getting a cold.
Nuriel groaned as Erygion turned around, moving the skull from the pit to the solid cavern floor. As soon as the skull touched the ground Nuriel released her grip on Erygion and hunched over with her arms resting on her knees, panting. The skull had been far heavier than she imagined, and she had not realized that the effort would have drained her so completely.
“Wow, Nuriel! You’re full of surprises, aren’t you!” chirped Celacia. She gave a little clap of her hands and hurried over to the skull, leaving a trail of crumbled, dead stone in her wake.
Still panting, Nuriel felt the heavy, gauntleted hand of Saint Isley clank upon the back of her star-metal breastplate. “Very few Saints can do that, you know.” said Isley. “Quite impressive. I wonder if one day you won’t surpass even Erygion in his ability to move objects?”
“Thanks,” said Nuriel, standing back up, but somehow she wasn’t sure if she truly deserved to be thanked for what she had helped accomplish. She sniffled and coughed and stroked her hair back behind her ear.
Celacia, Erygion and many of the soldiers were already gathering around the skull, looking as diminutive as ants crawling about carrion. It sat at the edge of the pit, caked in quickly-cooling black crust that showed through to veins of pulsing, fiery lava. The lower jaw bone was still intact with the upper skull and the mouth was open in a large, cavernous gape, propped up by one of the many fangs that no longer sat quite right in the mouth. The empty eye sockets were deep and cavernous. Cooling pools of molten earth within them seemed to give them life and they stared at Nuriel with what she thought an eerie, piercing intention. She wrapped her arms around her body. She stood in awe and horror of the thing, until finally she had to turn her head away, certain the thing looked upon her with contempt for helping to release it.
“Come, Nuriel,” said Isley. “You did good. Celacia was very pleased
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