As the weakness assaulted his senses, consuming awareness while the body fought for breath—there was none, only the infinite pain of everything. But ever the caster... his mind pondered.
It seemed like stone.
Merrin heard his heart pounding loudly, beating once per second. Would he die now? One of the many thoughts swirling in his mind. But yet, above them all, was the memory; the memory of the moment something pulled him from the sky.
What was it?
The darkness stirred around him. Something was slithering through the deep waters. What was it? It moved again. A hand? No, like a tendril of sorts moving, curling, drawing ever closer towards him. Merrin took a breath. A mistake, as his nose, head, and eyes were instantly lit with furious pain. He groaned—at least, he believed he did. There was little way to confirm.
But outside that, there was awareness now. A complete, total knowing within these waters. His heart was pounding, his body trembling as he stared at the thing below the waters—at the thing that had long stared and pulled him down into the depths.
That rock... that rock was a skystone. And in it was a Fallen. And right now, watching him, reaching for him with one of its many tendrils, was the Fallen. Its eyes, dark like obsidian beads... were three.
Merrin's heart skipped a beat. That thing was a Profane. Such was the rank given to it by the Church to mark the terror and might of its power. A Fallen Profane had sunk into the Black Seas. And worse—he was unsure, but most likely, this creature was so very close to Nightfell. So very close to his... PEOPLE!
A black tendril wrapped around his leg, snatching him downwards. Deeper and deeper into the waters. And soon, with it, came a voice. A sweet, melodious one. It was a song of sorts, calling memories in his mind, singing thoughts into his body. Singing... singing.
He remembered things... right? He remembered his people. They were down there, at the bottom of the ocean, waiting for him. In fact, Merrin curled into a smile. He could see them. He could see his people like specters of pure white, waving from deep in the waters. They called to him. Them in their thousands, screaming his name and waving and laughing.
He saw the Ashmen. He saw Leim, clapping for him, celebrating something that he had done. What was it again? What were they doing in the sea?
The song grew.
Oh yes, he smiled. I had managed to kill myself!
That was it! That was finally it. The last act that brought true peace, true beauty into the lives of his people. Heck, it even resurrected the dead. Who knew? Maybe the El'shadie could bring life with his death? Perhaps that's why he stayed alive for so long. Either way, he had done good. Done something perfect for once in his life. Something that could SAVE them all.
Merrin cried—unsure how that was possible, but he did. He cried and wailed as the thing pulled him deeper into the waters, deeper towards his people. Towards Leim, towards his final end. That was good. That was right. It was perfect... almost.
If only…
Merrin closed his eyes, staring at the thing below the waters. At the thing with a mouth the size of mountains, a thousand rows of fanged teeth with two orbs of white light spinning deep in its mouth. The Fallen.
Merrin bit down on his lips and said, "Why couldn't you have just been stronger?" His voice trembled through the waters. "Why couldn't you have done it better?"
The water stirred.
"Why couldn't you break my mind, break me away from that crippling fear? Why do you Fallen keep failing me?"
His body exploded in brilliant whiteness. The mind and soul burning as one, surging through everything like one scream of power. He could see it. He could see the Fallen, the monster with its mouth and its orbs of light that perhaps granted it the power of the mind. Oh, what a symbol that was... except the creature lacked the intelligence to use it well.
The Caster already had total domination over the mind, and Merrin Ashman had enough fear to simply undo something so crude. But by the Almighty, why couldn't it have done better?
He sighed, floating in the water—throat, eye, mouth, lungs, everything burning in searing agony. But again, what was pain but a tell from the mind, one that could so easily be shut by the Caster. He raised his body, still clothed in the brilliant luminance of force.
The monster, the Fallen, on the other hand, was quick to motion. Its tendrils furled out, snaking through the waters, hungering for the Caster bathed in whiteness. And in seeing that—seeing that horrible thing aimed at his life—Merrin recalled Leim. He remembered his death at the hands of such creatures. And with that came the hate. The teeth-grinding fury of the El'shadie.
How exactly complex Fallen are in comparison to humans, he thought, raising his hand gently.
Thus, in the stirring waters, in its grayness, appeared lines of great whiteness. Thoughts they were: memories, words that had been spoken, his will—everything that was him forged into a weapon. Such was the way of the mindForce. A weapon made for symbols. A mind that cuts the world.
He swung down, and the lines fired out, slamming into the tendril that hungered for him. A moment it took. A moment, and the tendril was gone, vanished from the waters. There was no sound to echo the event, no eye to watch and be awed. There was only Merrin and a monster.
The creature screamed within the waters—a violent, piercing wail that expanded out like a wave of power. Into him, it slammed. Into his mind, it forced memories, thoughts, and desires that echoed with one simple want: Leave here. Leave here.
The Fallen sought to banish him from this place. But that, too, was a thought—a desire that remained present in the mind. And what did the Ashman do? Merrin channeled back those wants, those desires into the bright blades of the mind. And outwards they went, slashing into the creature, black blood spilling out into the already darkened waters.
A great tremble came into the sea. The creature surged out deeper and more powerful memories into the mind of the Caster, and Merrin funneled them back as weapons against it. Oh, if only it knew. If only it knew what it did.
Not that he cared. Floating there, his body burning with the fury of the two forces, his thoughts coming and going, replacing and changing with ones he could not accurately point to as truly his, he simply did not care. Whatever happened, whatever remained, something must die.
The waters exploded as the creature dived deeper, attempting some measure of escape. If only. Merrin raised his hands, marshaling the winds that existed right outside the waters. In here, of course, there were none, but out there, there was plenty.
The waters divided!
And for a moment, there was him: hovering, holding both sides of the ocean with the total wind strength of the storm. And of course, there was the Fallen, floating there with its body nothing but a mass of tendrils, shadows, a giant maw with orbs of light and eyes...three eyes. And that was it. The thing was undoubtedly massive, but staring at it at this moment, with the complete power of both forces, Merrin could only wonder at what made them... anything.
He swung down.
The barrage began again. A swarm of light, smashing and tearing and piercing and cutting through the body of the monster. It wailed and wailed and screamed and trembled, but there was nothing. No hope for it, no hope as more of its lips vanished. No hope as its body was reduced to dust. No hope as it was cleansed away from reality.
Merrin could only watch. He could only stare with coldness in his eyes. Hate for two things: hate that these creatures had killed his brother; hate that even this one had failed at something so simple.
Ah, ever the hypocrite.
He closed his hands, the grayness pulsing around his seeable world. And the monster, through the eyes of the Caster, seemed like a giant brain, dripping with black mucus, wrapped in shadows. Its symbols. Its coreness. The true face of what it was.
And Merrin churned his mind with one thought: KILL. KILL. KILL.
That was the only memory, the only desire that flowed outwards now, sealing into his palm, condensing, screaming. He exhaled a breath and stared at the creature, pointing his arm downwards at the beast.
Then there was silence in the world. A brief silence as Merrin snapped his finger, a bright wave of light blasting down, shining into the creature, clearing whatever remained of its body. And then there was nothing. Not even in the Grayness.
Merrin heaved a breath, the wind holding back the ocean, clearing, allowing the waters to once again fall back into place. Now, above it, Merrin stared at his opaque reflection in the waters, solemn.
"I couldn't do it in the end," he said. "Even after saying all that, I couldn't kill myself."