Memoriae of The Minerva (Esra)

You sweep your hand across the field of battle, a wall of multi-colored lights streaking along behind the gesture and mere feet ahead of the charging orcish army. Without any time to react, the first few, unfortunate monsters slam head-long into the barrier erupting into flames, exploding into crackling electricity, or simply dissolving into a fine powder. The rest of the horde is quick to draw up to a halt.
“How long’ll that hold ‘em back for?” Ruthgart asks from beside you, shifting his grip on his axe and readying himself as though he expects the charge to resume at any second.
Folding your hands into a complex series of intricate, arcane gestures, you can feel the smirk forming beneath the black mask that obscures the upper half of your face. “Long enough.” You reply, an instant before a swarm of magical darts erupt into existence behind you, spinning and dancing around one another other as they soar over the upper edge of the barrier and back down to slam directly into the skulls of as many orcs.
Ruthgart stares between you and the carnage, slack jawed and obviously more than a bit terrified. “They said you were good.” He mumbles, “I didn’t think they meant this good…”
Poor little dwarf. He hasn’t seen anything yet.
Carrying the gestures forward smooth as a dance a half-dozen balls of flame, no larger than your fist spray out from your rapidly twining fingers. One, two, three, six, nine, twelve… They arch up and over the wall to land harmlessly amongst the orcs who begin panicking and scrambling away from what they rightly know comes next.
Twenty seconds.
Your fingers twist and twine with increasing speed and a grim complexity that hurts your head if you stare at them while they dance.
Ten seconds.
As the last gesture forms, you whisper a single word around a vulpine smirk. “Veristrasz.”
Three seconds.
“I’m not good.” You inform the dwarf as the sky begins to darken and something like thunder pours out of the growing shadows. The earth trembles and you can feel Her beginning to stir in your bones, crackling with the promise of lives taken, Her voice seeping into your own as the next words slip past your lips, “I am a goddess.”
One second…