Complete chaos.
Everywhere Freya looked at, was in complete chaos. The only place that wasn’t in chaos was the Alpha’s residence, and the bungalow where her family had been staying all this while.
How had all these been happening, how had the painful shouts and the heart searing cries been happening and they hadn’t been aware?
It was then that she understood that her father must have cloaked the living room where their meetings had been held with magic, with a safeguard akin to a sound proof, such that sound couldn’t leave the room, such that sound couldn’t enter too. And as wonderful as the advantages were, this was the exact disadvantage. Ignorance to chaos. Oblivion.
People were running helter skelter, shouting as they run-their wolf strength and powers rendered obsolete in the face of the onslaught spearheaded by shadow warriors.
Mothers were weeping for their children. Fathers were trying to fight the shadow warriors bravely-standing in the gap for their family-and dying whilst at it.
Freya could see all these in painful detail with an ancient eagle’s eyes. It was part of an ancient’s arsenal when activated.
Right now, she could see the entire scope of the pack. She could see the entirety of the happenings.
Was this how war looked like? Freya thought sadly. No wonder Peter had almost gone in without thinking.
“You all can see the state we are in. There is no time to waste. We have to be fast, so that the others can come in and help with organizing the pack back to its former state. We might not be able to do that today-the reverting to normal state, but we could find missing persons at least, and lessen the loss of the people.” Nathan started, abject sorrow overriding the normal coldness of his face.
“Freya and Margo, you are the only mages here, and the only ones who can fight this. We can only support by keeping the warriors away from you, with any tool possible, whilst you chant the magic that will either kill them, or send them back to where they came from.” Nathan stated, and moved with Kane in such a speed that was faster than light, before Freya could say a word.
Freya didn’t know what to do with her hands, especially as her nerves hit the roof then, especially as those hands began to shake with the weight of responsibility that had just been heaped on her shoulders. What should she do? She had never fought shadow warriors before! She had read of them, yes, but she didn’t have the spells at heart!
“Freya, remember what I taught you. The strength of your magic relies on your focus and the calmness you are shrouded with, the level of your confidence and courage. Magic cast by a nervous person or one ransacked with fear can only do a little. Now, take a deep breath. Take more like those, like I had taught you.” Margo had come behind Freya, and with her hands on the latter’s shoulders, she hummed a melody, working to help the redhead relax. It was highly needed for the ancient magic they were about to cast.
She wished, however, that her daughter had been around, to aid her in this. She had drilled Esther on the spells, just for emergencies like this, as she knew that Leonarya was skilled with the shadow warriors. Thinking of it now, she believed this would be one of the advantages the pack would enjoy if Ketura succeeds in convincing Zipfarah to join this war- the knowledge and the strength of pro witches.
Margo also hoped that Sheila still remembered the spells to either quench shadow warriors, or send them back to hell from where they had been called from. She knew that Tempest had taught the latter most of the things she had known. She only hoped now that her friend would remember the spell, word for word. If not, how would they fight?
Shadow warriors were raised from the dead, and they can’t be defeated with anything physical, even with an atomic bomb. Some things were just too spiritual to be affected by a man made object. Shadow warriors were one of them. And even though magic was spiritual, it was required in high amounts, in highly purified and sustained amounts to be able to affect the shadow warriors for a start.
It was why Margo needed Freya in her spiritual form, not one governed and distracted by physical senses. It was why she was grateful to whatever had made Leonarya call back the warriors when the latter had first sent them to the pack to retrieve Emma. If her old friend had let the warriors loose on the pack then…
Margo didn’t want to think of what would have become the fate of the Blue moon’s pack.
“Keep on. I need you in your best state. I need you to enter the zone, where your abilities are at their fullest. Keep going, Freya. Whatever magic we will be chanting will be once and for all. We can’t afford a second trial. Shadow warriors are quite sensitive, and can adapt to magic too. We have only one shot. So dig into your magic. Dig into the deepest level in that belly of yours.”
Freya didn’t know how she was going to be able to cut out distractions when she had just seen her father thrown aside like he weighed nothing as he tried fighting a shadow warrior who had been trying to kill off a mother and a child.
“Do you want him dead? Do you want Lucille dead? I asked you to focus immensely, because we might be going over to the Faugers pack. I’m not sure Sheila still remembers the spell to quench shadow warriors. As you know, it had been a while since she had walked the earth, since she had soaked herself in magic.”
That caught Freya’s attention. But it wasn’t sadness or pity or the zeal to save that caused her to finally focus on what she was to do, and pipe into the cocoon of powers in her, it was anger-anger against Leonarya and the others that was set to destroy her family, hot anger that suddenly sprouted up and opened her spiritual gates.
With a deep breath, Freya let herself go, let her senses go, let her worries go, as she knocked on the door of her powers. It was time for battle.
The first door of her magic chamber opened without stress, so did the second, and the third, as did the fourth, and the fifth, and the sixth.
Freya was glowing fiery red now. It was like she was swimming vertically in red fire.
Margo had already stepped away from her, in fright, when she had gone past door three.
Margo was in awe, but she wasn’t entirely surprised. Freya was of course one of the chosen ones, the ones that the gods had chosen for this. And if this was the case, it meant that the shadow warriors were the least of their problems in this war.
When Freya got to the last door of the magic chamber, there was a thick resistance hovering around the door.
‘Open up for the master.’ She commanded, her anger still riding over her in waves. Yet the door remained shut.
Freya hit the door frantically, her spiritual self getting angrier by the minute, unaware that her outburst was manifesting in the physical.
Right now, rockets of fire were flying out of Freya’s body, moving with no directions, without a target at all. It was beginning to torch houses.
Margo panicked, especially as the shadow warriors got entranced by it, and found them. And this time around, not even Nathan or Kane’s frantic activities to divert their attention from them could work. The shadow warriors convened, about fifty of them, and started walking toward Margo and Freya, leaving the werewolves to lick their wounds.
Margo was happy that at least the attention of the shadow warriors had left the helpless, but the problem was that they themselves weren’t ready. Freya seemed lost in her power. Margo didn’t know what to do. She needed Freya to open her eyes, to be in control.
As a matter of fact, the magic chamber Freya had walked into, when she had started seeing blazing red light surrounding the latter, had been enough to do away with the magic warriors, but Margo had been curious to see the depth of Freya’s magic. However, she wasn’t concerned any more. And so, she shouted with the entirety of her strength. “Freya! It’s okay! Get out of your mind, and fight! They are approaching us!”
Freya, still hitting against the door that won’t open, heard the voice, though distant, and paused. She looked at the closed door in front of her and glared dangerously at it. There was no effect. She left it alone, wondering what could open it, if it would ever be opened.
When Freya came to her senses, when she found out that flames had been spurting out for her body and was causing damage, her anger diminished immediately. Guilt threatened to take over. The anger was raised again, however, when she noticed that the shadow warriors were walking toward them.
By the corner of her eyes, she glimpsed when Margo took a deep breath, to center herself, to get into her state so that they could chant the magic together. But Freya didn’t see the necessity of that.
“Don’t bother Margo…” She said, voicing her thoughts. “Step away from there. Tell my father and Kane to step away too. Take the werewolves away too. Use your magic to help them if you can. Heal them if you can. And keep the residences safe.”
Margo furrowed her eyebrows, not understanding the direction this student of hers was heading to. “What do you mean? What do you want to do?”
Freya shrugged her shoulders and started to move to meet the shadow warriors. “To put them into submission.”