Elminster_ The Making of a Mage - Ed Greenwood [114]
Through thinning mists Elmara saw another vision: she rose from her knees in prayer to Mystra and turned to a table where a large, ornately bound tome lay, surrounded by small items that she recognized as spell components. She sat, opened the spell-book, and began to study… mists roiled up, and when they cleared again, El saw herself casting a spell and then watching as a ball of flames burst into bright being in front of her. A fireball? That was a spell wizards commanded, not priestesses…
The mists of light swirled and then parted again, revealing shapes of fire burning, endless and immobile, in emptiness. El stared at them. These fires were magic… and familiar. She stared at their coils and leaping tongues of fire… and-aye! These were the spells she'd memorized earlier, hanging in her own mind waiting to be released!
Yes, a warm and mighty voice said, echoing all round her, and added, Watch. One of the fires moved suddenly, writhing and twisting like a snake unfolding. It flared in sudden brilliance- too bright to watch, even as the voice said, do thus, and behold!
The fire flared up and was gone, leaving the white mists around a flickering amber. Elmara felt suddenly better, as if tension and pain had lessened… and at the same time, the weight in her mind eased, as if a spell had passed from memory.
Again, said the mind-voice of Mystra. Another flame writhed, opened, and flared up. At its passing Elmara felt stronger and more at ease from pain, and hung basking in the growing warmth of the now-golden mists.
Do this yourself now, the voice said, and El trembled in sudden awe and nervousness. She knew somehow that a slip could tear her mind apart… but the flames were unfolding, coiling, as her will surged through her and out to guide them. Brighter, now… aye! Thus, and-'tis done!
A golden radiance seemed to roll outward through the mists as the fires of the spell dissipated. Elmara felt stronger, as if the pain that numbness had shielded from her was suddenly gone, falling away from her like a tattered cloak that has split asunder… and the burning weight of spells in her mind eased again.
Mystra had shown her how to turn her memorized spells into healing energy and guide that raw force to work her own restoration. Hanging in the bright amber mind-void, El gasped at the beauty and intricacy of the process… the chill darkness seemed far away now. She found she could identify particular spells if she stared at the flames long enough. She floated, considering, the remaining pain like an aching mantle around her, until she'd chosen the least useful magic.
To spend it was the act of but a brief moment now, and the pain eased still more. She was going to live!
With that thought, El found herself wanting to rise-and then she was in motion, ascending smoothly through golden mists into the light…
There was a sudden rocking burst of noise and radiance. Through a swimming golden haze she could see clouds in the bright blue sky of morning-and darker and nearer, a ring of gawking faces, staring openmouthed at her. El recognized the anxious face of Asmartha the innkeeper, and smiled up at her.
"A-Aye," she said, finding her voice thick with blood, "I live."
There was more than one shriek, and gaps appeared abruptly in the circle of heads. El smiled thinly… but her heart swelled when the innkeeper matched her smile, and stretched down one strong hand to touch her.
"I saw it," the woman said, voice husky in wonder. "You were dead-cut open like a slaughtered hog-and now are whole. The gods are real… they must be. I saw you heal, right in front of me. The gods were here!"
Asmartha's face broke into a wide, wild laugh, and tears ran down her face. She traced El's cheek with a gentle finger, shook her head, and said, "I've never seen the like. What god smiles on you, lady?"
"Mystra," Elmara said. "Great Mystra." She struggled to sit up, and there were suddenly strong arms at her shoulders, helping her. "I am a priestess of the