Dice

Marin stood over the field, watching the battle as it unfolded before her. She could see the flow of the battle moving back and forth, as each side momentarily took the leading push before the other side was able to regroup and make a push back, themselves garnering the leading power for the moment. It was fairly apparent as the battle went on that neither side was ever going to be able to make any winning move without some kind of outside interference.

The hard part was deciding which side she wanted to help. She really had no connection to either side - she wasn't even sure who they were. The battle had already been raging when she had arrived, and so she had set up shop to watch and observe. The passage of time was a bit different for Marin - days passed as he battle continued onward, but it hardly felt like anything to her. All the same, she was beginning to grow bored of the never ending push and pull, and was ready to cast the dice.

And perhaps that was the way to decide. Her magic was a game of luck, decided by coin flips and rolls of the dice. She could roll two sets of dice, each directed at opposite sides of the field. A lower roll would be devastating, bringing about incredible destructive power, while a higher roll would accordingly be healing and empowering. Whichever side garnered the higher roll of the die would be the winner - even if they were both high or low.

With that decided, she pulled forth two pairs of dice, one painted blue and the other red, and separated them into her two hands. She had been facing the battle from the side, so she placed the red dice in her right hand to match the group on the right, and the blue with the left. She could feel the power running through her veins as she shook the dice loosely in her fists before tossing them both forward.

A red 7 flashed into the air for a brief moment before showering fire down on the battlefield, scattering the armies like paper in the wind, as they tried to escape the deadly flames. They were too afraid to notice the flames were only targeting certain people. Then a blue thirteen, and light shone on the other side of the field, and those who were not being burned to death were invigorated, and charged into the flames to finish the job.

Funny. Those numbers usually meant the opposite.