He paused with an unnatural stillness. His nostrils flared as though catching a scent on a non-existant breeze.In one single, animalistic move, his head snapped in her direction.The weight of that ice blue stare crashed into her.Her knees buckled.Zenna just barely caught her before she hit the stone floor."Get up, child!" Zenna hissed in her ear, the hard woman's panic needling against her skin.Kaliah could barely hear her over the pounding in her head. The unbearable throb of his power as it focussed solely on her.Oh God, *his power*.It was overwhelming. Eternal. Limitless. Dark. She felt all of it brush against her, trying and testing.Kaliah shuddered.She could barely breathe against its force as it slammed into her over and over again.She tried to straighten her legs, but she could not rise with his power. It forced her down. It was too much. *Too much*To her horror, she released a small whimper, wanting to rip her very skin off as his magic rippled over it, probing, looking for a way in.The noise stirred something within the prince, for the instant it had left her lips, he moved. The crowd parted as he strode forward, heading right for her.She sucked in a shuddering breath that failed to reach her aching lungs. Zenna pinched her shoulder."Get up!" She hissed again, fear dripping on every syllable."Get up now!"She could not. And when Zenna's entire body tensed against hers, she knew the prince was upon them.Slowly, she raised her head, regretting it immediately as the excruciating pounding of her racing heart rang in her head. Another small whimper.The Princes' keen eyes focussed in on Kaliah's trembling hands that still grasped onto Zenna's sleeves. Focussed on those two small golden lines on the black bands around her fingers."Ro Haema, Ro Cusla, Ro Somes"That liquid smooth voice slid through her, all the way down to the marrow of her bones.The foreign words he spoke weighed heavy against her chest.Words with too much power, too much weight to be said in her presence. She didn't know the language. It was gruff and almost crude, despite his smooth tone. Something told her she never wanted to learn the truth of those words or what language he spoke.In a world where one's power is volatile and received directly from the ancient race of deamons, an outlet is the only way to master the chaos and balance their powerA Syphate is nothing without their Syphon.