PALE REIGN OVER GESHEM - CHAPTER 35
by Abyss <LAbyss@hotmail.com>
this story is archived at 
http://web2.spydernet.com/lori/x-men.htm

     This is IT!!!  The no-holds-barred, in
your face, kick butt and take names FINALE of
the Pale Reign story... screw the DISCLAIMER, to
hades with pleading for FEEDBACK, lets do
this...
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     The dragon growled angrily, its long neck
lowering the lethal head to the ground as it
moved forwards, long claws clicking on the rock
and crystal floor.  
     Cyclops moved to stand with Lustre and the
Hunter over the unconscious Prelate.   His eyes
tingled, but the power hadn't returned yet.  He
could feel it building, but slowly... too
slowly.  As much as he enjoyed being able to see
without his visor, at that moment, he was
definitely missing the optic blasts he often
cursed.
      Lustre, can you take it down?'
      I tried to disrupt the control spell, I
failed.'
      What about something more damaging?'
      The lightning spell only made it angry,
and fire is pointless against a dragon.'
      Hunter, any suggestions?'
      Yes... keep it busy.'
     Cyclops watched as the Hunter rushed
towards the cross-shaped altar where the doubles
of Rahne Sinclair, Cable and Professor Xavier
lay in spell induced stasis.
     The dragon's black eyes turned to follow
her.  Cyclops didn't give it a chance to act.
      Lustre... lightshow, now!'
     The witch leader of Geshem's thieves
brought her palms together as if to catch water
from a spout, and hissed a word under her
breath.  An explosion of light burst from her
cupped hands, directly before the dragon.  
     Cyclops pulled his cloak from his back and
rushed forward.  One thought pushed its way
through the strategies racing through his mind.
     *Jean would kill me for trying this.*
     The dragon was blinking, disoriented,
shaking its head from side to side, arms length
fangs flashing as it snapped at where they had
been standing.  As the head passed close,
Cyclops leapt forwards, muscles hardened and
trained from long years of practice and combat
propelling him up in a jump that would do an
olympic athlete proud.  The leap carried him
over the dragon's head.  Cyclops reached out and
caught one of the upthrust spikes that lined the
monster's back, swinging himself down onto its
neck, narrowly avoiding impaling himself on
those same projections.    The dragon swung its
head back fiercely, nearly throwing him from his
perch.  Holding tight with knees and ankles,
Cyclops grabbed the cape in two hands and swung
it forward, over the eyes.  The long neck
snapped sideways and he was again nearly thrown. 
He hastily knotted the cape around the spike
just behind the head.  A huge claw reached for
him.  Cyclops gathered his will and
concentrated, drawing forth a weak optic blast. 
The effort gave him a migraine level headache,
but knocked the grasping claws aside.  The
dragon threw its head back and roared, and
Cyclops swung around the sharp spine and dropped
to the ground, rolling into the impact and
leaping to his feet, running away from the
dragon.  
      Lustre, the ceiling... bring it down!'
     Hands extended, Lustre called forth her
spell.  Bolts of lightning struck the rock and
crystal of the cave, already weakened by the
force-storm and the dragon's thrashing.
     Huge slabs of rock tumbled down, falling
about the monster.  The dragon's roars were
furious, but even as it tried to escape the
falling weight, the blindfold Cyclops had tied
on disoriented it, and it stumbled against a
wall, bringing down even more boulders.  When
the dust cleared, the pile of rock was huge.  A
long tail extended out from under it, twitching
slightly.
     Cyclops let out a long breath, one hand
rubbing at his temple.
     Lustre looked at him.
      How did you know I wouldn't bring the
entire place down and kill us all?'
      I saw where the dragon had weakened the
ceiling.  Sinister... the Pale Man didn't pick
this place because it was unstable.'
      Nicely done.'
      Thanks.  I don't suppose you have an
aspirin.'
     Before Lustre could voice her confusion,
the Hunter called to them.
      To me, quickly.'
     Cyclops turned and hurried to the altar. 
Yellow energy still played about it.  The
Hunter's face was desperate.
      I can't free them.  Every trick I know
fails.'
     Lustre stepped closer.
      That, my dear, is because all you know
are _tricks_.  Let a sorceress deal with this.'
      Go ahead... my _dear_... try.'  The voice
came from all around them.  It echoed about the
cave.  It was the Pale Man's without a doubt.
The yellow aura about the captives flickered.
     Sparks played about its length, and then
coalesced.  The Pale Man faded into being
between them and the altar.  He was exactly as
he had been when the force storm had erupted,
his cloths untouched, pale skin unmarked.  His
eyes glowed with red fury, his pointed teeth
showed in a humourless grin.  
     The Hunter attacked, her blade flashing
across his throat. The Pale Man didn't even try
to evade the cut.  A perfect, bloodless slice
across his throat closed even as the blade drew
back.  Knowing the effort was futile, Cyclops
drew on his power like never before, forcing an
optic blast that left his eyes as a gasp of pain
and effort left his lips.  The red beam punched
into the grinning face, which flowed and
reassembled itself like mercury.
      Are you fools quite done?'
      No!' Lustre shouted.
     Her arms raised, her eyes raged with
violet magical fury as Cyclops saw an indistinct
wave of distorted light flow from the sorceress
at the Pale Man.  The enemy actually staggered,
then planted his feet and fixed his gaze on the
thief.  The air between them crackled with
energy.
     The Hunter pulled Cyclops back.  Her voice
was urgent.
      She's engaged him in a duel.  We don't
have long.'
      What is she doing?'
      She's pitting the totality of her energy,
magic and life both, against the Pale Man.  Once
committed to, only one sorcerer can survive.'
      But he's tied into the Heart.  She can't
win.'
      Not unless we help her in time.'
     They turned to the altar.  The Hunter
leaned over the Mage.  Cyclops was struck by his
resemblance to his own son, the time-tossed
Cable.  Even the facial scaring was similar, and
a horrible wasting had discoloured half the
man's face, while the eye on the opposite side,
even closed, seemed to shimmer with power.
      Stab your eyes, Nathaniel, you never
prepared me for this.'  The Hunter held her
hands over the prone figure.  Her voice ached
with effort as she spoke,  I have a... link of
sorts to him... it allows him to use me as an
anchor, should he be lost to a spell.  Magic
wielders often do this with those they trust to
serve them, as protection.'
      Can you feel the link?'
      Barely... the barrier is so strong.'
      What can I do?'
      You can do NOTHING!' the Pale Man's shout
was triumphant.  He leaned forward and the air
around Lustre suddenly erupted with yellow
energy.  She cried out once, and fell backwards. 
The Hunter and Cyclops both stared as she fell
to the ground, unmoving.  There was no time to
find out if she lived.
     The Pale Man turned to them, red fire
flashing in his eyes,     I have had enough
of your meddling... your feeble efforts to
thwart my reign.  The magic of the Land is mine,
the souls of its people are mine, and I take it
all, with the life of its queen... NOW!'
     He extended his hands.  The yellow aura
crackled and turned opaque, hiding those inside
from view.  Cyclops heard the Hunter cry out
 No!', even as he gathered himself for a final
attack.  An optic blast rang out, but Cyclops
wasn't its source, and the blast struck from
behind the Pale Man.
     Prelate Summers, barely standing, faced
the Pale Man.   His voice was heavy with pain
and exhaustion.
      Hell... no.' he echoed the Hunter.
     The Pale Man swept his hand and a blast of
energy forced the Prelate to dive to the ground.
     The Pale Man's voice was fury and triumph
incarnate, echoing with the power he was drawing
on.
      ENOUGH.  I WIELD THE POWER OF THE HEART
OF THE LAND... I DRAW ITS SOUL FROM THE QUEEN...
     IN...
     HER...
     DEATH!'
     He brought his hands together and the aura
around the altar darkened, rippled...and faded
to dimness.
      What...? The channel?   The magic?   The
death spell on the preyers?  How can this be?'
     The voice that answered the Pale Man was
familiar to all in the room.   It was that of
Cyclops... the Prelate... Scott Summers...and
Lord Summerisle.
      The Land rejects your reign, fiend, your
preyers fall,...' and the tone changed slightly,
 and I want to go home.'  
     At the far end, opposite the entrance the
dragon had used, a single figure stood.   He
wore the cloths of a townsman of Geshem,
somewhat singed and tattered, and about his
face, he wore a golden mask with dragon's wings
above the ears.
      You!', for the first time there was panic
in the Pale Man's voice,  I killed you, I killed
all the High Lords!  Your magic was the path to
my victory.'
      And to your defeat.'
          *         *         *
     There were two of him in his head, but to
Scott Summers, it didn't seems at all odd.  They
moved his body, spoke and acted as one.  There
was no disagreement on their task.  One wanted
revenge, the other, to finish this business and
go home, and their was only one way to do that.
     With the dead Lord Summerisle's help, he
had maintained the Pale Man's link, leaving the
sword, the Shard of Kym, in place so as not to
alert him to their approach, and they had
hurried to the Queen's aid, her summons echoing
like never before in their minds.
     Their combined will cut the flow of magic
from the Heart to the sorceror, and then drew on
it against him.
     Scott unleashed the power of the Basilisk
Mask in a huge burst, Lord Summerisle correcting
his aim, directing it not at the Pale Man, but
at the altar, ripping away the last remnants of
the aura holding the queen, the Mage and the
Shaman captive.  The instant the beam passed,
the Queen sat up.
     Her voice was music to Lord Summerisle's
ears, and since they were Scott's ears as well,
his heart soared with joy.
      You have usurped my reign, hurt my
people, and wounded the Land itself.  I reclaim
my magic, my throne, and my people.  There is no
place for you in this world, fiend.  BEGONE!'
     Her right hand thrust forward, one finger
pointing in accusation.   At her sides, the Mage
and the Shaman joined their powers to hers.
     All about the Pale Man, there was the play
of energy.  He stood, almost calmly, his hands
by his sides, eyes fixed on the Queen.  The
energy seemed to merge with his form, and he
spoke only once.
      It would have been glorious.'
     The energy covered him completely, and he
closed his eyes, the red glow lost in crystal
fire.   There was a long moment of silence as
the energies twisted and burned across the space
he had stood in, and then all of it vanished.
          *         *         *
END CHAPTER 35