A/N- Sorry it took so long to update. I was out of town and so I wrote down the chapters in a notebook. There should be a Battle chapter up soon too. :) What was really funny though, was I saw a sign when I was driving and it said "Silverwing Dr." What's sad is it actually took a minute to remember why the name was familiar.
Rosethorn strode out of the office, beyond emotions and tears. Her feet carried her along the familiar path to the Earth dormitories, as someone approached behind her.
"Master Goldeye."
"Niko."
"Master Goldeye."
"I thought to accompany you to your cottage. Help you carry your possesions."
"I don't have much, just a box and some clothes."
"Nonetheless." He paused, adding, "do you even know where your cottage is?"
"No."
"Then I'll show you. Regardless, of whether or not you can find it by yourself."
Rosethorn pursed her lips. Scryers couldn't read minds, could they? She turned off the main road and pushed through the double doors of her dormitory. Goldeye grunted softly as the door thumped into him.
She ducked into her room, shared with five other women, and threw open her wardrobe doors. Sandals; a spare green habit, now her only green habit; underclothes; a hat; and a thin scarf. She gathered it all under one arm, snatched up her box from Anderran, then turned on her heel. She was almost out the door when a strong hand grabbed her skirt and spun her around.
Silverwing, dirt smudged across her face glared at Rosethorn with all of her First Dedicate power. "Just where do you think you're going?"
"I'm leaving."
"Rosethorn, just because you made a mistake, doesn't mean you have to leave. I've-"
"I'm leaving Silverwing. Froststar's orders."
Silverwing's face hardened. "Just because you made a fool mistake, don't mean Froststar can kick you out!" She slipped into the cant of her childhood and began to march past Rosethorn, who dropped her clothes and held Silverwing back.
"Silverwing, I'm not-"
"I don't care about being nice. That bleating Temple slushbrain-"
Suddenly, Rosethorn was glad for the friend she had in Silverwing.
A large hand clapped Rosethorn's shoulder. "Dedicate Silverwing, Honored Froststar isn't making Rosethorn leave the temple. She's just moving to a cottage across the way."
Silverwing frowned, obviously annoyed. "As you say, Master Goldeye," she muttered, sliding effortlessly into formal Imperial. She saw Rosethorn's surprise. "Niklaren has visited here before, several times." She glanced at Rosethorn's small heap of possessions. "Wait a moment." She disappeared into the storeroom, and Rosethorn could hear her rummaging through boxes of whatever was stored. A few minutes later, Silverwing came back with a teal metal wagon loaded with two large boxes. "These are just a few things to get you started. This isn't goodbye. I'm still expecting to see you at midnight services on Sunsday." She hugged Rosethorn tightly, then shoved her out the door. "Don't do anything stupider than usual." With that, she slammed the door shut.
Rosethorn smiled crookedly. "She doesn't like us to know she's capable of emotions."
Goldeye led her down the path. "Have you known her for a while?"
"Ten or twelve years now. She taught me as a novice, and was promoted to First Dedicate shortly after I took my vows. She just doesn't like to advertise it, so she wears plain habits." Unlike some people.
They walked in silence along the road, passing few others. The midday sun beat down from above and Rosethorn could feel sweat dewing on her face. She snuck a glance at the mage, but he appeared as cool and composed as ever. Finally, the man held up a hand.
"We're here."
Here was a clean white cottage, surrounded by lawn and garden. The scent of fresh thatch wafted over the air. Someone had apparently maintained the cottage. Brightly colored shutters hid the windows, no doubt made of expensive glass. Rosethorn glanced at the white fence surrounding the cottage grounds and sighed in frustration. A brilliant orange mark gleamed through the newer white paint. Rosethorn traced the petals of the tigerlily.
Will I never be free of him? I thought getting a home of my own would keep him away, but now. . . another tie keeping us together. Maybe I can get more paint. . .
"Dedicate?"
"What?" Rosethorn shook herself back to the present.
"Do you need any further assistance or-"
"I can manage fine on my own, thank you." She stepped through the gate with her wagon and snapped it shut. "Good day."
Goldeye looked faintly surprised for a moment, then his face was as smooth as stone. "Good day. I hope to see you again soon." He turned neatly and walked back down the path.
Rosethorn watched him go, then stomped to Discipline's front door.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Discipline
A/N- Thanks again to the Nerd for reviewing!
Much to her surprise, Rosethorn was awakened at dawn by bird calls. There weren't any dedicates clustered around her demanding to know what happened the night before.
She sat up and wiped as much of the mud off as she could, which wasn't much. She looked around, and not seeing anyone, stood and walked to the garden gate. Her necklace caught on a tree twig and she stared at the blue metal Mila flower.
It winked in the light, teasing her. Rosethorn felt hot fury rising her her throat again, and she ripped the necklace off and let it hang from the twig.
Let someone who wants it have it.
She stalked away with as much grace as she could muster and headed towards Froststar's office. Breaking the rules wouldn't keep her from owning up.
*****
The door was unlocked, but no one was in. Rosethorn slipped inside and sat in one of the chairs, picking the most uncomfortable one. There was no reason for her to fall asleep and be unprepared for someone walking in.
She didn't have to wait long. The door swung open again and Crane walked in. He didn't see Rosethorn in her corner, but strode to a chair near the front of the office and took a seat. He smoothed his robes, flattened the creases in his sleeves, looked up, and nearly fell off his chair when he saw Rosethorn.
"Where were you? I was worried sick- I thought... I thought a lot of things that might have happened!"
She glared at him. "I'm not stupid."
"I wasn't-"
"Yes, you were. And I'm not." She kicked her grimy feet up across the arm of another chair and closed her eyes, arms folded across her chest.
He snorted in exasperation and picked at his sleeve dismally. "It's this whole initiate thing, isn't it?"
Rosethorn gritted her teeth. Partially that, but not completely. There was something else, like your disability to care for the people in the Mire. She didn't say it out loud. It was better for him to suffer her silence.
It seemed like long hours before the door creaked open again. Rosethorn's eyes flew open and she watched Froststar, Moonstream, and middle-aged man with a dark ponytail and mustache walk in laughing. They saw her and Crane and sobered quickly.
Froststar sighed deeply. "Follow us, please." She opened the door to her inner office and everyone filed in. Froststar sat behind the desk, Moonstream and Crane in chairs before the desk, and Rosethorn leaned against the wall. The dark-haired man closed the door and propped himself against it, before glancing at Rosethorn.
Rosethorn glared at him, then fastened her gaze on Froststar. The woman really did look sick, pale and breathless. She hadn't lost a drop of composure, which Rosethorn admired.
The room was silent a moment more, then Froststar banged her fist on the desk. "I know what happened. Now I want to know why."
"It was my fault, truly-" Crane burst out.
Rosethorn snorted. "Stop taking credit for what you didn't do. It's my fault."
"I egged you on-"
"I started it-"
"No-"
"Yes-"
"Stop." The dark-haired man stepped between them and held up his hands. "The easiest way to settle this is just for you two to speak the truth. However, that method doesn't seem to be working. If Honored Froststar agrees-"
Froststar smiled mirthlessly. "Whatever you'd like to do, you may."
"-I'll perform a truth spell and we can get to the bottom of this."
"A truth spell?"
"Sir, can you do that on your own?"
"The kind using a crystal, or are you a mage?"
The man smiled a Rosethorn. "I apologize for not introducing myself. Niklaren Goldeye, truthsayer."
Crane nearly fell out of his seat.
Rosethorn coughed loudly into her elbow. "I'm at your mercy then, Master Goldeye. Please perform your spells so I can get started on my punishment."
Goldeye looked at her curiously. "Punishment, Dedicate?"
"You don't slap an Initiate and use magic on him without having to pay some price."
"Oh?"
"I was a bit tired to begin with, Dedicate Initiate Crane said something that irritated me, we disagreed, and I slapped him before using my magic against him."
"Did you injure him at all?"
"Only his pride, sir."
Goldeye smiled. "Thank you Dedicate." He turned to Froststar. "I believe you've heard the truth."
Crane frowned. "You didn't use magic."
Goldeye nodded. "I was taught to detect lies using non-magical methods and I believe I have heard the truth. That is, unless you have something to add, Dedicate Initiate?"
Rosethorn watched as Crane sought to find a small detail that would soften Rosethorn's actions. Finally, he shook his head. "No, thank you."
Froststar nodded. "Thank you, Dedicate Crane. Now, if you'd excuse us, you may return to your duties." After Crane had left the room and the door had clicked closed again, she turned to Rosethorn. "What possessed you to do something so idiotic?"
"All right, time to clean up. There's nothing more to be done tonight." Crane began to circulate through the tables, nodding approval or sighing deeply.
Rosethorn sat stiffly, hands frozen on her bottles. "Whatever do you mean, 'nothing more to be done'? There's always something we can do."
Crane came to stand by her shoulder. "We can't save everyone, my dear. We'll save more if we're rested and ready to use magic."
"People are dying. Maybe if we worked through the night we could have save them. But we won't. Because we never do!" she screamed loudly.
"It was my own fault. I over-reacted. He told us to clean up, and I told him no." Rosethorn looked at her grimy feet. She was tired and she knew she had been defeated. Froststar would probably send her packing back to Anderran in the morning.
"Anything else?"
"No, not really."
"Rosethorn." She blinked; Goldeye was suddenly beside her, finger lifting her chin up. "There's something else."
"I told him-" I'm not stupid. I know you and the other initiates work overtime to try and figure out what's wrong with Froststar. "I said I knew why he was working overtime."
Moonstream sucked in her breath, but Froststar showed no surprise. "It was only a matter of time, I suppose. How did you guess?"
Rosethorn looked away again. "It was just a lucky guess, really."
Froststar nodded sadly. "Lucky. Well, dear, you were right earlier in saying you can't just slap someone for free. To begin with, you're removed from the Dragon Pox research team."
Can't say I'm too upset about that.
"You're also removed from the Earth dormitories."
That caught Rosethorn's attention. "What-"
"You'll live in a cottage in the temple. Until someone like-minded comes along, you'll be its sole care-taker. If you ever gain a student, he or she will live in the cottage with you. Moonstream, what houses are open now?"
The woman flipped open a file on the desk. "There are two; thirty-one and fifty-six. Thirty one is on the north side of the temple, six bedrooms, one indoor workroom, alter, front and back gardens. Fifty-six is near the forges, two bedrooms, two workrooms and a loft."
Froststar stared into the distance for a moment, then- "Thirty one." She turned her attention to Rosethorn. "Now, Master Goldeye will accompany you to your dormitory to retrieve your belongings, then he'll show you to cottage thirty-one. I believe you know the one?" she added.
"Of course."
Rosethorn stood, bowed slightly to the two other dedicates and started to open the door.
"Ah, Rosethorn, one last thing. Since you're the sole caretaker of the cottage, you get to choose its name. Each time a cottage gets a new caretaker, the caretaker may rename it." Froststar paused. "The last caretaker called it....Courage."
Rosethorn twisted the door handle open, taking the moment to think. "Discipline."
Moonstream sighed sadly. "Dear, we aren't trying to discipline you-"
"I know."
A/N- What did you think? I have my own idea about what Rosie means when she says she knows she's not being disciplined, but I'm curious to know what you think. Please review!
Much to her surprise, Rosethorn was awakened at dawn by bird calls. There weren't any dedicates clustered around her demanding to know what happened the night before.
She sat up and wiped as much of the mud off as she could, which wasn't much. She looked around, and not seeing anyone, stood and walked to the garden gate. Her necklace caught on a tree twig and she stared at the blue metal Mila flower.
It winked in the light, teasing her. Rosethorn felt hot fury rising her her throat again, and she ripped the necklace off and let it hang from the twig.
Let someone who wants it have it.
She stalked away with as much grace as she could muster and headed towards Froststar's office. Breaking the rules wouldn't keep her from owning up.
*****
The door was unlocked, but no one was in. Rosethorn slipped inside and sat in one of the chairs, picking the most uncomfortable one. There was no reason for her to fall asleep and be unprepared for someone walking in.
She didn't have to wait long. The door swung open again and Crane walked in. He didn't see Rosethorn in her corner, but strode to a chair near the front of the office and took a seat. He smoothed his robes, flattened the creases in his sleeves, looked up, and nearly fell off his chair when he saw Rosethorn.
"Where were you? I was worried sick- I thought... I thought a lot of things that might have happened!"
She glared at him. "I'm not stupid."
"I wasn't-"
"Yes, you were. And I'm not." She kicked her grimy feet up across the arm of another chair and closed her eyes, arms folded across her chest.
He snorted in exasperation and picked at his sleeve dismally. "It's this whole initiate thing, isn't it?"
Rosethorn gritted her teeth. Partially that, but not completely. There was something else, like your disability to care for the people in the Mire. She didn't say it out loud. It was better for him to suffer her silence.
It seemed like long hours before the door creaked open again. Rosethorn's eyes flew open and she watched Froststar, Moonstream, and middle-aged man with a dark ponytail and mustache walk in laughing. They saw her and Crane and sobered quickly.
Froststar sighed deeply. "Follow us, please." She opened the door to her inner office and everyone filed in. Froststar sat behind the desk, Moonstream and Crane in chairs before the desk, and Rosethorn leaned against the wall. The dark-haired man closed the door and propped himself against it, before glancing at Rosethorn.
Rosethorn glared at him, then fastened her gaze on Froststar. The woman really did look sick, pale and breathless. She hadn't lost a drop of composure, which Rosethorn admired.
The room was silent a moment more, then Froststar banged her fist on the desk. "I know what happened. Now I want to know why."
"It was my fault, truly-" Crane burst out.
Rosethorn snorted. "Stop taking credit for what you didn't do. It's my fault."
"I egged you on-"
"I started it-"
"No-"
"Yes-"
"Stop." The dark-haired man stepped between them and held up his hands. "The easiest way to settle this is just for you two to speak the truth. However, that method doesn't seem to be working. If Honored Froststar agrees-"
Froststar smiled mirthlessly. "Whatever you'd like to do, you may."
"-I'll perform a truth spell and we can get to the bottom of this."
"A truth spell?"
"Sir, can you do that on your own?"
"The kind using a crystal, or are you a mage?"
The man smiled a Rosethorn. "I apologize for not introducing myself. Niklaren Goldeye, truthsayer."
Crane nearly fell out of his seat.
Rosethorn coughed loudly into her elbow. "I'm at your mercy then, Master Goldeye. Please perform your spells so I can get started on my punishment."
Goldeye looked at her curiously. "Punishment, Dedicate?"
"You don't slap an Initiate and use magic on him without having to pay some price."
"Oh?"
"I was a bit tired to begin with, Dedicate Initiate Crane said something that irritated me, we disagreed, and I slapped him before using my magic against him."
"Did you injure him at all?"
"Only his pride, sir."
Goldeye smiled. "Thank you Dedicate." He turned to Froststar. "I believe you've heard the truth."
Crane frowned. "You didn't use magic."
Goldeye nodded. "I was taught to detect lies using non-magical methods and I believe I have heard the truth. That is, unless you have something to add, Dedicate Initiate?"
Rosethorn watched as Crane sought to find a small detail that would soften Rosethorn's actions. Finally, he shook his head. "No, thank you."
Froststar nodded. "Thank you, Dedicate Crane. Now, if you'd excuse us, you may return to your duties." After Crane had left the room and the door had clicked closed again, she turned to Rosethorn. "What possessed you to do something so idiotic?"
"All right, time to clean up. There's nothing more to be done tonight." Crane began to circulate through the tables, nodding approval or sighing deeply.
Rosethorn sat stiffly, hands frozen on her bottles. "Whatever do you mean, 'nothing more to be done'? There's always something we can do."
Crane came to stand by her shoulder. "We can't save everyone, my dear. We'll save more if we're rested and ready to use magic."
"People are dying. Maybe if we worked through the night we could have save them. But we won't. Because we never do!" she screamed loudly.
"It was my own fault. I over-reacted. He told us to clean up, and I told him no." Rosethorn looked at her grimy feet. She was tired and she knew she had been defeated. Froststar would probably send her packing back to Anderran in the morning.
"Anything else?"
"No, not really."
"Rosethorn." She blinked; Goldeye was suddenly beside her, finger lifting her chin up. "There's something else."
"I told him-" I'm not stupid. I know you and the other initiates work overtime to try and figure out what's wrong with Froststar. "I said I knew why he was working overtime."
Moonstream sucked in her breath, but Froststar showed no surprise. "It was only a matter of time, I suppose. How did you guess?"
Rosethorn looked away again. "It was just a lucky guess, really."
Froststar nodded sadly. "Lucky. Well, dear, you were right earlier in saying you can't just slap someone for free. To begin with, you're removed from the Dragon Pox research team."
Can't say I'm too upset about that.
"You're also removed from the Earth dormitories."
That caught Rosethorn's attention. "What-"
"You'll live in a cottage in the temple. Until someone like-minded comes along, you'll be its sole care-taker. If you ever gain a student, he or she will live in the cottage with you. Moonstream, what houses are open now?"
The woman flipped open a file on the desk. "There are two; thirty-one and fifty-six. Thirty one is on the north side of the temple, six bedrooms, one indoor workroom, alter, front and back gardens. Fifty-six is near the forges, two bedrooms, two workrooms and a loft."
Froststar stared into the distance for a moment, then- "Thirty one." She turned her attention to Rosethorn. "Now, Master Goldeye will accompany you to your dormitory to retrieve your belongings, then he'll show you to cottage thirty-one. I believe you know the one?" she added.
"Of course."
Rosethorn stood, bowed slightly to the two other dedicates and started to open the door.
"Ah, Rosethorn, one last thing. Since you're the sole caretaker of the cottage, you get to choose its name. Each time a cottage gets a new caretaker, the caretaker may rename it." Froststar paused. "The last caretaker called it....Courage."
Rosethorn twisted the door handle open, taking the moment to think. "Discipline."
Moonstream sighed sadly. "Dear, we aren't trying to discipline you-"
"I know."
A/N- What did you think? I have my own idea about what Rosie means when she says she knows she's not being disciplined, but I'm curious to know what you think. Please review!
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Intricate
A/N- I'm going to tell this one (start it anyways) more from the Living Circle dedicate's pov. Hope you enjoy! Oh, btw, I have no idea about his name, it just kinda popped into my head one day. Thanks to CrazyDyslexicNerd for reviewing!
First Dedicate Hwangwalker of the Living Circle Water Temple listened in mild annoyance and surprise when someone banged on the door. It was almost the end of his sentry shift, and now he'd have to go out and talk to people who wanted in, probably for a rather idiotic reason. He pulled a summer cloak over his uniform: loose blue breeches and a matching tunic, all trimmed in black. Much more sensible then stuffy robes and skirts like other temples. He climbed the ladder on the back of the door to the eye slot viewing platform and pulled the slot cover back with a crisp crack."Please stare your names and what you're doing here at the crack of dawn." Not the most polite inquiry, but certainly not as rude as some.
He peered at the people curiously. A girl and an older boy, both who looked local except for the odd choice of clothes. Chammuran perhaps, with that headscarf, her thought. An older woman stood between them. She was the most curious. To young to be their mother, but too old to be a sister. An aunt? She didn't look related though. Straight brown eyes and paler skin and dark hair with a coppery glimmer. Maybe just a friend.
They glanced at each other, and the woman stepped forwards. "Are you a dedicate?" she called in accented Chammuran.
"Yes. Dedicate Hwangwalker." First Dedicate had seemed too formal since the day Hwang had received the title.
The woman nodded. "Dedicate Rosethorn of Winding Circle Temple, Emelan, across the Pebbled Sea. These are my companions, Briar and Evumeimei."
Hwang frowned. Emelan? That's.... I don't even know how far away. What would a dedicate of Emelan be doing here? Her name does sound familiar though... "I'm going to need proof of that, please." He quickly drew a spell in the air before himself to shield the glow of any magic.
The woman pulled out a silver disk on a cord from around her neck and touched it. It flashed white, illuminating the walls in stark relief.
It's definately an original medallion. Hwang paused and made a quick decision. "If you'll give me a moment, I'll be right down to open the sally port for you." He slammed the eye-slot shut and clambered down the ladder. The sally port was a small door built into the right side of the main gate. Hwang took a large silver key from his belt and unbolted the door. Another, smaller key unlocked the door. He swung it open a crack and held out his hand to the travellers. "If you don't mind ma'am, I'd appreciate another look at your medallion."
The woman glanced at the boy curiously, but handed her necklace over withhout comment. It glowed softly in Hwang's hand, and he examined it carefully. On one side, it was imprinted with a large spiral. "Rosethorn", "Snowpaw", and "Winding Circle" bordered the spiral. The student's name, teacher, and temple, Hwang remembered. He flipped it over. A large tree ringed by birds and roses dominated the face of the disk. Some vague memory clicked into place in Hwang's head and he gasped. Dedicate Initiate Rosethorn, the herbalist! All the strange stories of her.... ablities to grow anything, incredible herbs, and didn't she help create the human essences? There were endless stories about her, tales of earthquakes, pirates, fire, and plague. And not just about her, but about- "Can I see your medallion, too, sir?"
The boy handed his over as silently as his teacher had. Without any surprise, Hwang found another spiral on the back, inscribed with "Briar Moss", "Rosethorn", and "Winding Circle." On the front, there was another large tree, this one bordered with ribbons, lightning, and flames. Hwang took a deep breath and handed the medallions back. I've just met people of legend! "If you'd follow me please. I believe Dedicate Sandstorm would like to meet you. She's our head."
The three mages slipped through the door and Hwang relocked and bolted the sally port behind them. They were coated in dust and grime and all three looked exhausted. Hwang sighed. It wouldn't really matter if Sandstorm met them an hour later, would it? No, not much. Besides, she'd probably appreciate another bit of sleep. And this lot looks like they'd like a bath. "Actually, I think we can visit the bathhouse first." He began to lead them across the temple, trying not to fall over his feet in his amazement at meeting some of the most powerful mages to have lived.
Rosethorn looked around amazement. The temple was slightly smaller than Winding Circle, and built differently. A large central building seemed to contain housing. A square structure in a corner was the kitchen and dining hall, judging by the steam and smells wafting around it. Large cloisters and groves were scattered across the grounds, mingling with offices, workrooms, and tiny cottages.
Evvy tugged Rosethorn's sleeve. "What's that? It's newer than everything else, by loads." She was pointing at crisp-looking, cubical stone buildings that were set half underground.
Hwang heard her and explained quickly. "Those are our new storage cellars. Supposedly, being partially belowground will help everything stay cooler." He led them to yet another small granite building. "This is the bathhouse." He ducked inside and the others followed him down a few steps to a steamy pool. "It's geothermal, so it's always warm in here. Best place to be in the winter," he added nervously. "Soap is on the shelf there and towels are in the cupboard. We don't have a night attendant, so if you need anything...."
Rosethorn smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Dedicate-"
"Hwangwalker! Just Hwang, though, please." He nodded."Um, if you need anything else, well, I think everything you'd need is in here. I'll find you some clean clothes, if you don't mind. I'll be back in a bit." With that he rushed out the door.
Rosethorn raised her eyebrows at Briar. He grinned and shrugged, stripping down to his undergarments, and sliding into the hot water.
"Need any help, girl?" Rosethorn asked Evvy.
"No thanks."
Evvy pulled her headscarf off, dropped it on the floor and let her breeches and tunic puddle next to it. She checked to make sure nothing could slide off underwater, then leaped in.
Rosethorn sighed and picked at the intricate folds and knots holding her dress together. "Evvy! How do I get this blasted thing off?"
The girl giggled, floating in the water. "The tie, by your right hip, get that undone and it should come apart."
Rosethorn grumbled and pulled at the knot, eventually letting the dress spill across the floor. She kicked off her shoes and walked over to the cupboards Hwang had pointed out. Soap, brushes, and shampoo. "Boy! Catch!" She tossed two bars of soap and a pair of brushes at the two in the water, before sliding in herself.
"I can finally get all this dye off," she muttered.
*****
Hwang had gathered the clothes and was sitting on a bench outside the bathhouse. He could hear the mages talking among themselves, and he didn't want to interrupt. He leaned back, trying to relax. A moment later, his bench shivered as someone else sat down. Hwang didn't have to look to know who. The scent of grapefruit told him what he needed to know.
"Alyssa."
"Hey. What's up? Nya was wondering when you let those people in and didn't come back," his sister said. She was a few years younger, training to be an Air dedicate.
"Aly," he sat up and looked at her. "Can you not tell anyone this until Sandstorm hears of it?"
She frowned, completely serious now. "Yes."
"Aly, those mages are..." he leaned closer and lowered his voice. "It's Dedicate Initiate Rosethorn from Emelan and her student-"
"Briar Moss."
"And his student, a girl from Chammur, I think. I don't know her name."
"Hwang, do you want me to tell Sandstorm, so you don't have to wait when you take them to her office?"
"That would be nice, thanks."
Alyssa grinned. "You'll owe me. A slice of your incredible cherry pie, perhaps?"
Hwang smiled back, glad that someone else knew now. "A whole pie, if you want."
His sister's teeth flashed white in the dawn. "A whole pie. It's a deal!" She gave him a quick hug, turned, and began jogging towards the head dedicate's office.
Hwang stood before the door to the bathhouse, took a deep breath, and entered, determined to keep his calm.
First Dedicate Hwangwalker of the Living Circle Water Temple listened in mild annoyance and surprise when someone banged on the door. It was almost the end of his sentry shift, and now he'd have to go out and talk to people who wanted in, probably for a rather idiotic reason. He pulled a summer cloak over his uniform: loose blue breeches and a matching tunic, all trimmed in black. Much more sensible then stuffy robes and skirts like other temples. He climbed the ladder on the back of the door to the eye slot viewing platform and pulled the slot cover back with a crisp crack."Please stare your names and what you're doing here at the crack of dawn." Not the most polite inquiry, but certainly not as rude as some.
He peered at the people curiously. A girl and an older boy, both who looked local except for the odd choice of clothes. Chammuran perhaps, with that headscarf, her thought. An older woman stood between them. She was the most curious. To young to be their mother, but too old to be a sister. An aunt? She didn't look related though. Straight brown eyes and paler skin and dark hair with a coppery glimmer. Maybe just a friend.
They glanced at each other, and the woman stepped forwards. "Are you a dedicate?" she called in accented Chammuran.
"Yes. Dedicate Hwangwalker." First Dedicate had seemed too formal since the day Hwang had received the title.
The woman nodded. "Dedicate Rosethorn of Winding Circle Temple, Emelan, across the Pebbled Sea. These are my companions, Briar and Evumeimei."
Hwang frowned. Emelan? That's.... I don't even know how far away. What would a dedicate of Emelan be doing here? Her name does sound familiar though... "I'm going to need proof of that, please." He quickly drew a spell in the air before himself to shield the glow of any magic.
The woman pulled out a silver disk on a cord from around her neck and touched it. It flashed white, illuminating the walls in stark relief.
It's definately an original medallion. Hwang paused and made a quick decision. "If you'll give me a moment, I'll be right down to open the sally port for you." He slammed the eye-slot shut and clambered down the ladder. The sally port was a small door built into the right side of the main gate. Hwang took a large silver key from his belt and unbolted the door. Another, smaller key unlocked the door. He swung it open a crack and held out his hand to the travellers. "If you don't mind ma'am, I'd appreciate another look at your medallion."
The woman glanced at the boy curiously, but handed her necklace over withhout comment. It glowed softly in Hwang's hand, and he examined it carefully. On one side, it was imprinted with a large spiral. "Rosethorn", "Snowpaw", and "Winding Circle" bordered the spiral. The student's name, teacher, and temple, Hwang remembered. He flipped it over. A large tree ringed by birds and roses dominated the face of the disk. Some vague memory clicked into place in Hwang's head and he gasped. Dedicate Initiate Rosethorn, the herbalist! All the strange stories of her.... ablities to grow anything, incredible herbs, and didn't she help create the human essences? There were endless stories about her, tales of earthquakes, pirates, fire, and plague. And not just about her, but about- "Can I see your medallion, too, sir?"
The boy handed his over as silently as his teacher had. Without any surprise, Hwang found another spiral on the back, inscribed with "Briar Moss", "Rosethorn", and "Winding Circle." On the front, there was another large tree, this one bordered with ribbons, lightning, and flames. Hwang took a deep breath and handed the medallions back. I've just met people of legend! "If you'd follow me please. I believe Dedicate Sandstorm would like to meet you. She's our head."
The three mages slipped through the door and Hwang relocked and bolted the sally port behind them. They were coated in dust and grime and all three looked exhausted. Hwang sighed. It wouldn't really matter if Sandstorm met them an hour later, would it? No, not much. Besides, she'd probably appreciate another bit of sleep. And this lot looks like they'd like a bath. "Actually, I think we can visit the bathhouse first." He began to lead them across the temple, trying not to fall over his feet in his amazement at meeting some of the most powerful mages to have lived.
Rosethorn looked around amazement. The temple was slightly smaller than Winding Circle, and built differently. A large central building seemed to contain housing. A square structure in a corner was the kitchen and dining hall, judging by the steam and smells wafting around it. Large cloisters and groves were scattered across the grounds, mingling with offices, workrooms, and tiny cottages.
Evvy tugged Rosethorn's sleeve. "What's that? It's newer than everything else, by loads." She was pointing at crisp-looking, cubical stone buildings that were set half underground.
Hwang heard her and explained quickly. "Those are our new storage cellars. Supposedly, being partially belowground will help everything stay cooler." He led them to yet another small granite building. "This is the bathhouse." He ducked inside and the others followed him down a few steps to a steamy pool. "It's geothermal, so it's always warm in here. Best place to be in the winter," he added nervously. "Soap is on the shelf there and towels are in the cupboard. We don't have a night attendant, so if you need anything...."
Rosethorn smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Dedicate-"
"Hwangwalker! Just Hwang, though, please." He nodded."Um, if you need anything else, well, I think everything you'd need is in here. I'll find you some clean clothes, if you don't mind. I'll be back in a bit." With that he rushed out the door.
Rosethorn raised her eyebrows at Briar. He grinned and shrugged, stripping down to his undergarments, and sliding into the hot water.
"Need any help, girl?" Rosethorn asked Evvy.
"No thanks."
Evvy pulled her headscarf off, dropped it on the floor and let her breeches and tunic puddle next to it. She checked to make sure nothing could slide off underwater, then leaped in.
Rosethorn sighed and picked at the intricate folds and knots holding her dress together. "Evvy! How do I get this blasted thing off?"
The girl giggled, floating in the water. "The tie, by your right hip, get that undone and it should come apart."
Rosethorn grumbled and pulled at the knot, eventually letting the dress spill across the floor. She kicked off her shoes and walked over to the cupboards Hwang had pointed out. Soap, brushes, and shampoo. "Boy! Catch!" She tossed two bars of soap and a pair of brushes at the two in the water, before sliding in herself.
"I can finally get all this dye off," she muttered.
*****
Hwang had gathered the clothes and was sitting on a bench outside the bathhouse. He could hear the mages talking among themselves, and he didn't want to interrupt. He leaned back, trying to relax. A moment later, his bench shivered as someone else sat down. Hwang didn't have to look to know who. The scent of grapefruit told him what he needed to know.
"Alyssa."
"Hey. What's up? Nya was wondering when you let those people in and didn't come back," his sister said. She was a few years younger, training to be an Air dedicate.
"Aly," he sat up and looked at her. "Can you not tell anyone this until Sandstorm hears of it?"
She frowned, completely serious now. "Yes."
"Aly, those mages are..." he leaned closer and lowered his voice. "It's Dedicate Initiate Rosethorn from Emelan and her student-"
"Briar Moss."
"And his student, a girl from Chammur, I think. I don't know her name."
"Hwang, do you want me to tell Sandstorm, so you don't have to wait when you take them to her office?"
"That would be nice, thanks."
Alyssa grinned. "You'll owe me. A slice of your incredible cherry pie, perhaps?"
Hwang smiled back, glad that someone else knew now. "A whole pie, if you want."
His sister's teeth flashed white in the dawn. "A whole pie. It's a deal!" She gave him a quick hug, turned, and began jogging towards the head dedicate's office.
Hwang stood before the door to the bathhouse, took a deep breath, and entered, determined to keep his calm.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Battle for Living Circle- Dawn
A/N- I can't actually remember if Evvy can see magic, I don't think so, but it makes the story funner and fanfics are all about being partly non-canon. If you think of anything that you want to have happen or correction, let me know. Thanks!
Briar rolled his eyes and tried not to smile. Evvy giggled, then straight out laughed. Rosethorn grinned smugly at Briar and with a flick of her fingers, the vines released Briar and he crashed into the creek. He popped up sputtering loudly and waded to dry land.
"You look like a wet cat!"
"Thanks ever so much Evvy." Briar ran his hands over his clothes, brushing water away. His face turned serious again as he glanced up at the Yanjingi prisoners. "So what do we do with them?"
Rosethorn stared at them thoughtfully. "I suppose the best thing is just to truss them up as solidly as we can, and then-" she drew the others close, "get to the Circle Temple as fast as we can. At my guess, we could make it there tonight, if we hurry."
Briar's mouth dropped open. "Why didn't you say it was so close?"
"I didn't want you to know and be anxious about it at the gate."
Briar sighed, then shrugged. "I suppose." He turned to the hedax and the scouts. "Let's get it done. I'd like a decent meal tonight."
Evvy squinched her eyes and watched Briar's magic tumble through the vines. The soldiers' vines re-wrapped themselves tightly and stopped moving. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rosethorn shoot Briar a look. He caught his teacher's eyes and the vines loosened slightly. "Alright. The vines will release them sometime tomorrow." He looked hard at Rosethorn. "Stupid bleaters won't starve or nothin'."
She nodded and swung her pack onto her shoulders with a sigh. Briar and Evvy followed suit and walked back to the main road.
*****
The night was cool and quiet. The trio had walked along the road for hours and hardly seen anyone. When people had come, the mages had taken care to hide in the shrubbery at the roadside. As they waited behind a tree for the most recent person to pass by, Evvy's eyes began to drift shut. She slid sideways into Rosethorn. The older woman nudged her upright. "Don't sleep yet, girl. We're almost there."
"That's what Briar said last time," Evvy mumbled.
"Yes, but Briar doesn't know where we're going does he?"
"Mmm..." Evvy was almost asleep again.
It seemed a moment later and Rosethorn pulled her up again. "Come on. Just a little longer." She glanced at the sky where the first streaks of dawn were whiskering the sky. "Do you think you can run? It'll be faster and you'd wake up." The woman didn't wait for an answer, but broke into a jog, her pack thumping her back. Briar grabbed Evvy's hand and pulled her along, stumbling through the half-darkness. Later she realized she couldn't have been fully awake, as it seemed only a few blurry minutes passed before she could see a large grey stone wall looming closer and closer.
Evvy blinked herself awake and let a tendril of magic swirl out to investigate. It was old granite, its sparkle dimmed by hundreds of years of weathering and protective charms. The stone didn't clamor at the girl's magical touch, much to her surprise. It was calm and greeted her cautiously, like a new cat. "Is that it?"
Rosethorn smiled tiredly. "Yes. This is the original Circle Temple. Living Circle Temple, Briar. All my life, I've dreamed.... Never thought I'd see it like this." She snorted. "Things are never as we expect though, are they?" She slowed to a walk and they approached the great stone heights carefully.
A huge oaken door, heavily reinforced with iron and bronze sealed the wall. The wood had scorches, dents, and all manner of repairs and charms set into it. Rosethorn's fingers traced the wood wondrously.
"Mila...."
Briar's hands explored the other side of the door and Evvy set her cheek against the stone, letting its power refresh her. Briar grasped a large bronze ring set into the door.
"Rosethorn?" He didn't lift it, but waited for his teacher. "Should I-" he waved at the door with his free hand.
"How else are we going to get in, boy?" Nonetheless, she paused for a long moment before "Yes."
Briar swung the ring back and let it drop.It boomed loudly against the door and they flinched away at the sound. Rosethorn squared her shoulders. "I doubt once is enough. I'll try once again, then Evvy, you bang it once too. It's a once in a lifetime occurrence."
Thunk.
Thunk.
They stepped back and stared at the door. After a moment, Evvy stepped up to it again. "It's not going to open itself, pahan-door or not." She had just grasped the ring, when a small slot, high up the door opened with a loud crack.
Brown, almond-shaped eyes peered out. "Please state your names, and what you're doing here at the crack of dawn."
Briar rolled his eyes and tried not to smile. Evvy giggled, then straight out laughed. Rosethorn grinned smugly at Briar and with a flick of her fingers, the vines released Briar and he crashed into the creek. He popped up sputtering loudly and waded to dry land.
"You look like a wet cat!"
"Thanks ever so much Evvy." Briar ran his hands over his clothes, brushing water away. His face turned serious again as he glanced up at the Yanjingi prisoners. "So what do we do with them?"
Rosethorn stared at them thoughtfully. "I suppose the best thing is just to truss them up as solidly as we can, and then-" she drew the others close, "get to the Circle Temple as fast as we can. At my guess, we could make it there tonight, if we hurry."
Briar's mouth dropped open. "Why didn't you say it was so close?"
"I didn't want you to know and be anxious about it at the gate."
Briar sighed, then shrugged. "I suppose." He turned to the hedax and the scouts. "Let's get it done. I'd like a decent meal tonight."
Evvy squinched her eyes and watched Briar's magic tumble through the vines. The soldiers' vines re-wrapped themselves tightly and stopped moving. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rosethorn shoot Briar a look. He caught his teacher's eyes and the vines loosened slightly. "Alright. The vines will release them sometime tomorrow." He looked hard at Rosethorn. "Stupid bleaters won't starve or nothin'."
She nodded and swung her pack onto her shoulders with a sigh. Briar and Evvy followed suit and walked back to the main road.
*****
The night was cool and quiet. The trio had walked along the road for hours and hardly seen anyone. When people had come, the mages had taken care to hide in the shrubbery at the roadside. As they waited behind a tree for the most recent person to pass by, Evvy's eyes began to drift shut. She slid sideways into Rosethorn. The older woman nudged her upright. "Don't sleep yet, girl. We're almost there."
"That's what Briar said last time," Evvy mumbled.
"Yes, but Briar doesn't know where we're going does he?"
"Mmm..." Evvy was almost asleep again.
It seemed a moment later and Rosethorn pulled her up again. "Come on. Just a little longer." She glanced at the sky where the first streaks of dawn were whiskering the sky. "Do you think you can run? It'll be faster and you'd wake up." The woman didn't wait for an answer, but broke into a jog, her pack thumping her back. Briar grabbed Evvy's hand and pulled her along, stumbling through the half-darkness. Later she realized she couldn't have been fully awake, as it seemed only a few blurry minutes passed before she could see a large grey stone wall looming closer and closer.
Evvy blinked herself awake and let a tendril of magic swirl out to investigate. It was old granite, its sparkle dimmed by hundreds of years of weathering and protective charms. The stone didn't clamor at the girl's magical touch, much to her surprise. It was calm and greeted her cautiously, like a new cat. "Is that it?"
Rosethorn smiled tiredly. "Yes. This is the original Circle Temple. Living Circle Temple, Briar. All my life, I've dreamed.... Never thought I'd see it like this." She snorted. "Things are never as we expect though, are they?" She slowed to a walk and they approached the great stone heights carefully.
A huge oaken door, heavily reinforced with iron and bronze sealed the wall. The wood had scorches, dents, and all manner of repairs and charms set into it. Rosethorn's fingers traced the wood wondrously.
"Mila...."
Briar's hands explored the other side of the door and Evvy set her cheek against the stone, letting its power refresh her. Briar grasped a large bronze ring set into the door.
"Rosethorn?" He didn't lift it, but waited for his teacher. "Should I-" he waved at the door with his free hand.
"How else are we going to get in, boy?" Nonetheless, she paused for a long moment before "Yes."
Briar swung the ring back and let it drop.It boomed loudly against the door and they flinched away at the sound. Rosethorn squared her shoulders. "I doubt once is enough. I'll try once again, then Evvy, you bang it once too. It's a once in a lifetime occurrence."
Thunk.
Thunk.
They stepped back and stared at the door. After a moment, Evvy stepped up to it again. "It's not going to open itself, pahan-door or not." She had just grasped the ring, when a small slot, high up the door opened with a loud crack.
Brown, almond-shaped eyes peered out. "Please state your names, and what you're doing here at the crack of dawn."
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Last Night Part: I don't Even Know
Broken
Eight Years Later
Rosethorn sat at the counter of an Air workroom, a tray of human essence before her, watching as the rain turned everything outside to mud. She sighed and looked back down at her tray. She was helping several other Air and Water dedicates create a cure for the dragon pox that ravaged the Mire each spring. It was incredibly boring. All they did was add a drip of this and a spoonful of that to the little wells of essence. There was no excitement.
She added marshmallow and valerian to the last row of wells, then corked her bottles and carried the tray to the cabinet where it was stored overnight. There wasn't really enough time to start another tray, but Rosethorn picked up a new set of wells anyways. People were dying and the least she could do was spend some time trying to help. She set the tray on her table and began unstoppering little vials of oils and herbs.
This should be exciting. I mean, no one's ever done this before and it's going to save hundreds of people. Rosethorn sighed. But this is going to drive me insane. Locked up in a little room. I'd be more useful with my plants, doing something...else. Like tea.
The door banged open and Crane strode in, hands hanging elegantly out of his sleeves, the black stripe along the bottom of his yellow habit perfectly clean. "All right, time to clean up. There's nothing more to be done tonight." He began to circulate through the tables, nodding approval or sighing deeply.
Rosethorn sat stiffly, hands frozen on her bottles. "Whatever do you mean, 'nothing more to be done'? There's always something we can do."
Crane came to stand by her shoulder. "We can't save everyone, my dear. We'll save more if we're rested and ready to use magic."
She bolted up. "If we use every drop of magic we have, every day, we'll save more. There are people dying right now!"
Her words echoed through the silent room. The other dedicates stared at her in surprise. Disagreeing silently was one thing. Talking back to a dedicate initiate was another.
The remembrance of the black stripe sent hot anger through Rosethorn's veins. "People are dying. Maybe if we worked through the night we could have save them. But we won't. Because we never do!" She screamed loudly.
"We do what we can." Crane's voice was ice cold.
"'What we can' seems to be different depending on who's being helped." She lowered her voice and made a guess. "I'm not stupid. I know you and the other initiates work overtime to try and figure out what's wrong with Froststar."
Crane went stiff. "Where did you hear that?"
Rosethorn glared at him and lied. "Isn't it obvious? Everyone knows. She's sick, and Mila strike me if any of you know what's wrong." It wasn't that obvious. Froststar didn't walk through the temple like she used to and she didn't do flashy magic, but she was old, and busy training a successor. Crane and most of the initiates were late to breakfast and left dinner early, but that could mean any number of things. But Rosethorn wasn't about to admit that.
Crane was pale, with fear or fury Rosethorn couldn't tell. "I'd appreciate if you would keep this to yourself, whether or not it's 'obvious,' as you put it," he hissed. "We are doing everything we can for everyone, the people in the... Mire... included."
Rosethorn glared at him. They weren't doing enough. And Crane didn't care.
She didn't even think as she reached out and slapped Crane across the face with a tremendous crack. An emotion (Fear? Surprise? Hurt?) flitted across his eyes before cold steel settled on his face. Rosethorn gritted her teeth and lunged at Crane, knocking him to the floor. She swung at him with everything Lars, Evan, and Dai taught her before he managed to shove her away. She fell backwards into her chair, which crashed down upon the two of them. Then the other dedicates were there, trying to pull her away. A tall man wrapped his arms about her, and she tried to kick his shins. He didn't let go, so she released a flood of magic into the floor.
Crane froze as long-thorned roses broke out of the floorboards and began to wrap around him. They snaked up his body and stopped at his shoulders. One threw a fine tendril around his neck. The vines blossomed suddenly, the buds along their lengths opening up into plate-sized, pale pink flowers.
The tall dedicate was distracted just long enough for Rosethorn to break away. She turned and ran, throwing open the door and bursting into the pounding rain. Someone called after her, but she ran faster, mud sucking her feet and splashing her habit. She had just passed the last Air workroom when she stepped into a deep puddle. She lost her balance and fell, face first into the mud. It soaked her habit and caked her bare skin.
Rosethorn swore and ripped her sandals from her feet. She could run better barefoot. The habit was dropped into the mud next to the sandals. Skirts were useless.
Voices began to clamor behind her, and she could her slapping feet. Suddenly, she had an idea. Rosethorn lay back in the mud and smeared grime across her gleaming white underrobe and ivory skin. When she was thoroughly brown, she rolled to her feet and dodged behind the nearest tree.
The tall dedicate who had held her was at the lead, and he paused to look at her habit and shoes. He rose and scanned the ground for footprints. Rosethorn swore silently, turned and scrambled over the fence behind her. She landed in someone's backyard when the dedicates realized where she had gone. She ran across the yard, climbed the next fence and began tearing across the temple. She followed the roads when she met them and ran through yards when the roads stopped. The dedicates' calls began to fade away, but Rosethorn kept running. It was one thing to yell at a dedicate initiate, it was another matter entirely to hit one and then use magic against him. She winced at the memory and tripped, falling face-down in someone's garden.
Breathe...breathe
Rosethorn gasped in a deep breath and tried to pull herself back up, but her legs refused to hold her. She sat down.
It's not too bad, just sitting in someone's garden. Whoever lives here isn't about to come out in this rain. I can just stay here until...she paused. Until I feel like leaving.
She dug a shallow hole in the bare ground and curled up into it, letting the rain wash cool mud back around her. She had no idea what time it was, but she ached with exhaustion and her eyes kept closing.
"Just for a moment..."
Eight Years Later
Rosethorn sat at the counter of an Air workroom, a tray of human essence before her, watching as the rain turned everything outside to mud. She sighed and looked back down at her tray. She was helping several other Air and Water dedicates create a cure for the dragon pox that ravaged the Mire each spring. It was incredibly boring. All they did was add a drip of this and a spoonful of that to the little wells of essence. There was no excitement.
She added marshmallow and valerian to the last row of wells, then corked her bottles and carried the tray to the cabinet where it was stored overnight. There wasn't really enough time to start another tray, but Rosethorn picked up a new set of wells anyways. People were dying and the least she could do was spend some time trying to help. She set the tray on her table and began unstoppering little vials of oils and herbs.
This should be exciting. I mean, no one's ever done this before and it's going to save hundreds of people. Rosethorn sighed. But this is going to drive me insane. Locked up in a little room. I'd be more useful with my plants, doing something...else. Like tea.
The door banged open and Crane strode in, hands hanging elegantly out of his sleeves, the black stripe along the bottom of his yellow habit perfectly clean. "All right, time to clean up. There's nothing more to be done tonight." He began to circulate through the tables, nodding approval or sighing deeply.
Rosethorn sat stiffly, hands frozen on her bottles. "Whatever do you mean, 'nothing more to be done'? There's always something we can do."
Crane came to stand by her shoulder. "We can't save everyone, my dear. We'll save more if we're rested and ready to use magic."
She bolted up. "If we use every drop of magic we have, every day, we'll save more. There are people dying right now!"
Her words echoed through the silent room. The other dedicates stared at her in surprise. Disagreeing silently was one thing. Talking back to a dedicate initiate was another.
The remembrance of the black stripe sent hot anger through Rosethorn's veins. "People are dying. Maybe if we worked through the night we could have save them. But we won't. Because we never do!" She screamed loudly.
"We do what we can." Crane's voice was ice cold.
"'What we can' seems to be different depending on who's being helped." She lowered her voice and made a guess. "I'm not stupid. I know you and the other initiates work overtime to try and figure out what's wrong with Froststar."
Crane went stiff. "Where did you hear that?"
Rosethorn glared at him and lied. "Isn't it obvious? Everyone knows. She's sick, and Mila strike me if any of you know what's wrong." It wasn't that obvious. Froststar didn't walk through the temple like she used to and she didn't do flashy magic, but she was old, and busy training a successor. Crane and most of the initiates were late to breakfast and left dinner early, but that could mean any number of things. But Rosethorn wasn't about to admit that.
Crane was pale, with fear or fury Rosethorn couldn't tell. "I'd appreciate if you would keep this to yourself, whether or not it's 'obvious,' as you put it," he hissed. "We are doing everything we can for everyone, the people in the... Mire... included."
Rosethorn glared at him. They weren't doing enough. And Crane didn't care.
She didn't even think as she reached out and slapped Crane across the face with a tremendous crack. An emotion (Fear? Surprise? Hurt?) flitted across his eyes before cold steel settled on his face. Rosethorn gritted her teeth and lunged at Crane, knocking him to the floor. She swung at him with everything Lars, Evan, and Dai taught her before he managed to shove her away. She fell backwards into her chair, which crashed down upon the two of them. Then the other dedicates were there, trying to pull her away. A tall man wrapped his arms about her, and she tried to kick his shins. He didn't let go, so she released a flood of magic into the floor.
Crane froze as long-thorned roses broke out of the floorboards and began to wrap around him. They snaked up his body and stopped at his shoulders. One threw a fine tendril around his neck. The vines blossomed suddenly, the buds along their lengths opening up into plate-sized, pale pink flowers.
The tall dedicate was distracted just long enough for Rosethorn to break away. She turned and ran, throwing open the door and bursting into the pounding rain. Someone called after her, but she ran faster, mud sucking her feet and splashing her habit. She had just passed the last Air workroom when she stepped into a deep puddle. She lost her balance and fell, face first into the mud. It soaked her habit and caked her bare skin.
Rosethorn swore and ripped her sandals from her feet. She could run better barefoot. The habit was dropped into the mud next to the sandals. Skirts were useless.
Voices began to clamor behind her, and she could her slapping feet. Suddenly, she had an idea. Rosethorn lay back in the mud and smeared grime across her gleaming white underrobe and ivory skin. When she was thoroughly brown, she rolled to her feet and dodged behind the nearest tree.
The tall dedicate who had held her was at the lead, and he paused to look at her habit and shoes. He rose and scanned the ground for footprints. Rosethorn swore silently, turned and scrambled over the fence behind her. She landed in someone's backyard when the dedicates realized where she had gone. She ran across the yard, climbed the next fence and began tearing across the temple. She followed the roads when she met them and ran through yards when the roads stopped. The dedicates' calls began to fade away, but Rosethorn kept running. It was one thing to yell at a dedicate initiate, it was another matter entirely to hit one and then use magic against him. She winced at the memory and tripped, falling face-down in someone's garden.
Breathe...breathe
Rosethorn gasped in a deep breath and tried to pull herself back up, but her legs refused to hold her. She sat down.
It's not too bad, just sitting in someone's garden. Whoever lives here isn't about to come out in this rain. I can just stay here until...she paused. Until I feel like leaving.
She dug a shallow hole in the bare ground and curled up into it, letting the rain wash cool mud back around her. She had no idea what time it was, but she ached with exhaustion and her eyes kept closing.
"Just for a moment..."
Thursday, June 30, 2011
BoLC
Suspended
Rosethorn knelt at the edge of the creek and splashed cool water over her face. Blessed relief. She heard Evvy giggling behind her and turned to glare at the girl.
"One more noise, and I'm hanging you in the next well I come to."
Briar raised his eyebrows. "I haven't seen a single one since we crossed the border. Besides, I thought the next well was reserved for me."
Rosethorn snorted. "I can hang you both in the same well. And leave you there!"
Briar smiled and swung his pack to the ground. "While we're stopped, we can at least have dinner. It's hot and I think we all deserve a break." He pulled rolls and slices of dried mango from his pack and set them on a large rock with a canteen of water.
He was reaching for the end piece of some summer sausage when a twig snapped behind him. Old street instincts kicked in and he spun on his toes, a knife already in his hands. He couldn't see anyone, but that meant nothing.
"Evvy, Rosethorn, get behind me. Get your knives out out and hold 'em like I showed you."
They stood back to back, eyes darting over the trees. Suddenly, a Yanjingi hedax stepping into the small clearing. Two scout followed him.
"Relax friends," he said smoothly. "We were just passing through and I though I'd say hello. There's raiders around here, and we like to keep out people safe." He circled around Briar's pack, never moving his eyes from the boy's face. "Where are you headed?"
Briar clenched his knife. "To the Gygonxe Circle Temple. They have mages who are adept at healing and we wanted to say hello."
The hedax studied the boy's face carefully. He matched the description of the mage-boy. Gray-green eyes, choppy black hair. There was a girl-child. And an older woman. She didn't have red hair and ivory skin, but that could be easily hidden with face paints. "What are you carrying?" He poked the pack with his spear. It clanked loudly, a noise like glass jars. Medicine jars. "Herbs? Potions? Why not heal yourselves?"
The last word was barely past his lips when he lunged forward at the boy, his spear leading the way. Briar spun to the side, jerking Rosethorn out of the man's path. She slipped and fell, but Briar was already leaping at the hedax. Evvy raced for Briar's pack and ripped open his mage kit.
Thorny vines...wall-breaking vines...tie-people-up vines! She grabbed a few of the cloth balls and threw them towards Briar and the soldiers. "Rosethorn!"
The older woman glanced at the balls, and then Evvy fell backwards as green magic exploded across the clearing. She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and her mouth dropped open. "Lallian of the rain, bless me!"
The soldiers were wrapped in vines that tangled with the trees and gleamed with magic. The vines were moving, constantly snaking across the soldiers and retying them. Rosethorn pushed herself upright and grinned at Briar. He hung suspended from one foot over the creek.
"I couldn't find any wells."
Rosethorn knelt at the edge of the creek and splashed cool water over her face. Blessed relief. She heard Evvy giggling behind her and turned to glare at the girl.
"One more noise, and I'm hanging you in the next well I come to."
Briar raised his eyebrows. "I haven't seen a single one since we crossed the border. Besides, I thought the next well was reserved for me."
Rosethorn snorted. "I can hang you both in the same well. And leave you there!"
Briar smiled and swung his pack to the ground. "While we're stopped, we can at least have dinner. It's hot and I think we all deserve a break." He pulled rolls and slices of dried mango from his pack and set them on a large rock with a canteen of water.
He was reaching for the end piece of some summer sausage when a twig snapped behind him. Old street instincts kicked in and he spun on his toes, a knife already in his hands. He couldn't see anyone, but that meant nothing.
"Evvy, Rosethorn, get behind me. Get your knives out out and hold 'em like I showed you."
They stood back to back, eyes darting over the trees. Suddenly, a Yanjingi hedax stepping into the small clearing. Two scout followed him.
"Relax friends," he said smoothly. "We were just passing through and I though I'd say hello. There's raiders around here, and we like to keep out people safe." He circled around Briar's pack, never moving his eyes from the boy's face. "Where are you headed?"
Briar clenched his knife. "To the Gygonxe Circle Temple. They have mages who are adept at healing and we wanted to say hello."
The hedax studied the boy's face carefully. He matched the description of the mage-boy. Gray-green eyes, choppy black hair. There was a girl-child. And an older woman. She didn't have red hair and ivory skin, but that could be easily hidden with face paints. "What are you carrying?" He poked the pack with his spear. It clanked loudly, a noise like glass jars. Medicine jars. "Herbs? Potions? Why not heal yourselves?"
The last word was barely past his lips when he lunged forward at the boy, his spear leading the way. Briar spun to the side, jerking Rosethorn out of the man's path. She slipped and fell, but Briar was already leaping at the hedax. Evvy raced for Briar's pack and ripped open his mage kit.
Thorny vines...wall-breaking vines...tie-people-up vines! She grabbed a few of the cloth balls and threw them towards Briar and the soldiers. "Rosethorn!"
The older woman glanced at the balls, and then Evvy fell backwards as green magic exploded across the clearing. She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and her mouth dropped open. "Lallian of the rain, bless me!"
The soldiers were wrapped in vines that tangled with the trees and gleamed with magic. The vines were moving, constantly snaking across the soldiers and retying them. Rosethorn pushed herself upright and grinned at Briar. He hung suspended from one foot over the creek.
"I couldn't find any wells."
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Ok. Super hard.
Next Chapter of Last Night
Can't
Rosethorn set her elbows on the table and rested her head in her palms; she didn't care if it was impolite. The ceremonial dinner had lasted longer than the new dedicate had hoped, and she hadn't even talked to her family yet, not really. She closed her eyes. I can listen with my eyes shut, just fine. A moment later, it seemed, her elbow slipped and her cheekbone collided painfully with her plate. Rosethorn sighed and sat up again. No one had really appeared to notice, so she took her napkin and swiped chocolate pudding from her face. She glanced around again and saw Crane smiling at her, eyes dancing. She stuck her tongue out at him and jumped as the other dedicates began clapping the last speaker. Finally it's over!
She hopped to her feet, exhaustion forgotten, and looked around for her family. A crush of dedicates blocked her view, so, scorning any manners she had ever learned, Rosethorn climbed onto her chair, then the table to see clearly.
A young man near the back wall caught her eye, jumping and waving at her. Rosethorn grinned, jumped down, and began to shove her way over to him.
He caught her up in his arms and hugged her tightly, lifting her feet right off the ground. "It's good to see you, lass. I was thinking of you every day."
Another man, a few years younger, playfully punched Rosethorn's arm. She shoved him back and they laughed. "You still hit like a girl, sis; did you forget how I told you to fight?"
"No, Dai! It's just that most of the temple people don't like getting dirty, so I couldn't practice fighting. I introduced a few noses to the ground and ended up washing dishes for weeks. I hate washing dishes. " She grinned, showing no regret.
Rosethorn's brothers began to tell her about Anderran, what had been happening on the farm; with Sami and Lise; how a caravan of Traders had come through. The wheat crop had been good, the Larsons' had a spectacular cherry crop, Hannah and Ellis were growing new apple trees. Evan had just began to describe Lewis' daughter Enna ( She's got this long almost white hair, Rosie, and she had these great blue eyes- It sounds like you like her. No! No! Of course not!) when Rosethorn's father walked up behind her. He hugged her tightly, then held her away and examined her closely.
"I hear you've done well. First credentials at Lightsbridge, now this. Congratulations, Niva-girl."
She smiled weakly. "Yes, Papa. It's pretty good."
Her brothers crowded around, hugged her and said their goodbyes before melting into the masses of dedicates.
"So what are you going to do next? Do you have to stay here, or can you. . . travel abroad?"
Rosethorn sighed. "Papa, I'm not coming home. I took vows for the temple here, so this is where I stay. Besides, I think everyone's probably happier that I'm here."
"Niva, just because you-"
"Papa, before I came here, I had a lot of screw-ups. The barley crop-"
"You didn't even know you had magic."
"The roses? The cherry trees?"
"Those were-"
"'Accidents!' I know! The vines, the thorn bushes, the fennel- What about Hannah's apple trees? And Lise's potato patch? Evan's pumpkin plant! Were those all 'accidents'? Papa, I've been learning here. How to control my magic and things like that."
He sighed. This was a much repeated argument, and they both knew it. "Niva-girl. I'll agree you've been learning here, but it's time to come home. Thyme Circle in Anderran is perfectly fine for you. I still don't know why you insisted on coming here."
Rosethorn stuck her chin out mulishly. "Winding Circle better meets the needs of mages with unusual magic. My magic is unusual. Thyme Circle told you that."
"Unusual? You have green magic, girl. People on all sides of the Pebbled Sea have green magic."
"But their's isn't like mine! They can't feel like I do or make the plants move around for them. Papa, Froststar said I might be a great mage someday! I have to stay here if I want that to happen." As she closed her mouth, Rosethorn realized she had said the wrong thing.
"In that case you must come home. Don't you feel any loyalty to your country? Your family? Your gods cursed plants? You could make Anderran a great country, chief crop exporter for this whole region."
Rosethorn bit her lip. "Papa, I love Anderran. It's where I grew up and where almost everyone I know lives. It's just that... Anderran doesn't love me. Everyone may be polite on the outside, but they haven't forgotten what happened. They still remember all my 'accidents' and the pirate attack-"
Rosethorn's father seized her tightly by the shoulders. "The pirate attack wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. And what happened to that pirate was self-defense. No one can blame you."
Thorns ripping up through the ground, not stopping when they hit pirate flesh. It had taken her father and two other men to cut the thicket of thorns down after the attack. Even when she left for Lightsbridge, there had been rough stumps in the yard outside the door.
"But they remember, Papa. They don't think of it the same way you do. I think it's best if I stay here, for everyone's sake." Tears suddenly threatened to spill down her cheeks. "I love you Papa, and Dai, and Even, and Lars. I want you to be happy and live normal lives, not be worring about a mage-child running around and ruining crops and killing pirates." Rosethorn shut her mouth and looked away, hoping her father couldn't see the tears.
He sighed. "If that's the way it must be, Niva-girl, then so it is. I expect you to write home and visit once in a while." He turned to join his sons, then paused. "I also expect you to come to Lars' wedding in the Gorse Moon." He was silent a moment longer, then quickly said "I love you too."
Next Chapter
Eight Years Later
Rosethorn sat at the counter of an Air workroom, a tray of human essence before her, watching as the rain turned everything outside to mud. She sighed and looked back down at her tray. She was helping several other Air and Water dedicates create a cure for the dragon pox that ravaged the Mire each spring. It was incredibly boring. All they did was add a drip of this and a spoonful of that to the little wells of essence. There was no excitement.
She added marshmallow and valerian to the last row of wells, then corked her bottles and carried the tray to the cabinet where it was stored overnight. There wasn't really enough time to start another tray, but Rosethorn picked up a new set of wells anyways. People were dying and the least she could do was spend some time trying to help. She set the tray on her table and began unstoppering little vials of oils and herbs.
This should be exciting. I mean, no one's ever done this before and it's going to save hundreds of people. Rosethorn sighed. But this is going to drive me insane. Locked up in a little room. I'd be more useful with my plants, doing somthing...else. Like tea.
The door banged open and Crane strode in, hands hanging elegantly out of his sleeves, the black stripe along the bottom of his yellow habit perfectly clean. "All right, time to clean up. There's nothing more to be done tonight." He began to circulate through the tables, nodding approval or sighing deeply.
Rosethorn sat stiffly, hands frozen on her bottles. "Whatever do you mean, 'nothing more to be done'? There's always something we can do."
Crane came to stand by her shoulder. "We can't save everyone, my dear. We'll save more if we're rested and ready to use magic."
She bolted up. "If we use every drop of magic we have, every day, we'll save more. There are people dying right now!"
Her words echoed through the silent room. The other dedicates stared at her in surprise. Talking back was one thing. Talking back to a dedicate initiate was another.
The remembrance of the black stripe sent hot anger through Rosethorn's veins. "People are dying. Maybe if we worked through the night we could have save them. But we won't. Because we never do!" She screamed loudly.
"We do what we can." Crane's voice was ice cold.
"'What we can' seems to be different depending on who's being helped." She lowered her voice and made a guess. "I'm not stupid. I know you and the other initiates work overtime to try and figure out what's wrong with Froststar."
Crane went stiff. "Where did you hear that?"
Rosethorn glared at him and lied. "Isn't it obvious? Everyone knows. She's sick, and Mila strike me if any of you know what's wrong." It wasn't that obvious. Froststar didn't walk through the temple like she used to and she didn't do flashy magic, but she was old, and busy training a successor. Crane and most of the initiates were late to breakfast and left dinner early, but that could mean any number of things. But Rosethorn wasn't about to admit that.
Crane was pale, with fear or fury Rosethorn couldn't tell. "I'd appreciate if you would keep this to yourself, whether or not it's 'obvious,' as you put it," he hissed. "We are doing everything we can for everyone, the people in the... Mire... included."
Rosethorn glared at him. They weren't doing enough. And Crane didn't care.
She didn't even think as she reached out and slapped Crane across the face with a tremendous crack. An emotion (Fear? Surprise? Hurt?) flitted across his eyes before cold steel settled on his face. Rosethorn gritted her teeth and lunged at Crane, knocking him to the floor. She swung at him with everything Lars, Evan, and Dai taught her before he managed to shove her away. She fell backwards into her chair, which crashed down upon the two of them. Then the other dedicates were there, trying to pull her away. A tall man wrapped his arms about her, and she tried to kick his shins. He didn't let go, so she released a flood of magic into the floor.
Crane froze as long-thorned roses broke out of the floorboards and began to wrap around him. They snaked up his body and stopped at his shoulders. One threw a fine tendril around his neck. The vines blossomed suddenly, the buds along their lengths opening up into plate-sized, pale pink flowers.
The tall dedicate was distracted just long enough for Rosethorn to break away. She turned and ran, thowing open the door and bursting into the pounding rain. Someone called after her, but she ran faster, mud sucking her feet and spashing her habit. She had just passed the last Air workroom when she stepped into a deep puddle. She lost her balance and fell, face first into the mud. It soaked her habit and caked her bare skin.
Rosethorn swore and ripped her sandals from her feet. She could run better barefoot. The habit was ground into the mud next to the sandals. Skirts were useless.
Voices began to clamor behind her, and she could her slapping feet. Suddenly, she had an idea. Rosethorn lay back in the mud and smeared across her gleaming white underrobe and ivory skin. When she was thoroughly brown, she leapt up and dodged behind the nearest tree.
The tall dedicate who had held her was at the lead, and he paused to look at her habit and shoes. He rose and scanned the ground for footprints. Rosethorn swore silently, turned and scrambled over the fence behind her. She landed in someone's backyard when the dedicates realized where she had gone. She ran across the yard, climbed the next fence and began tearing across the temple. She followed the roads when she met them and ran through yards when the roads stopped. The dedicates' calls began to fade away, but Rosethorn kept running. It was one thing to yell at a dedicate initiate, it was another matter entirely to hit one and then use magic against him. She winced at the memory and tripped, falling face-down in someone's garden.
Breath...tbc
Can't
Rosethorn set her elbows on the table and rested her head in her palms; she didn't care if it was impolite. The ceremonial dinner had lasted longer than the new dedicate had hoped, and she hadn't even talked to her family yet, not really. She closed her eyes. I can listen with my eyes shut, just fine. A moment later, it seemed, her elbow slipped and her cheekbone collided painfully with her plate. Rosethorn sighed and sat up again. No one had really appeared to notice, so she took her napkin and swiped chocolate pudding from her face. She glanced around again and saw Crane smiling at her, eyes dancing. She stuck her tongue out at him and jumped as the other dedicates began clapping the last speaker. Finally it's over!
She hopped to her feet, exhaustion forgotten, and looked around for her family. A crush of dedicates blocked her view, so, scorning any manners she had ever learned, Rosethorn climbed onto her chair, then the table to see clearly.
A young man near the back wall caught her eye, jumping and waving at her. Rosethorn grinned, jumped down, and began to shove her way over to him.
He caught her up in his arms and hugged her tightly, lifting her feet right off the ground. "It's good to see you, lass. I was thinking of you every day."
Another man, a few years younger, playfully punched Rosethorn's arm. She shoved him back and they laughed. "You still hit like a girl, sis; did you forget how I told you to fight?"
"No, Dai! It's just that most of the temple people don't like getting dirty, so I couldn't practice fighting. I introduced a few noses to the ground and ended up washing dishes for weeks. I hate washing dishes. " She grinned, showing no regret.
Rosethorn's brothers began to tell her about Anderran, what had been happening on the farm; with Sami and Lise; how a caravan of Traders had come through. The wheat crop had been good, the Larsons' had a spectacular cherry crop, Hannah and Ellis were growing new apple trees. Evan had just began to describe Lewis' daughter Enna ( She's got this long almost white hair, Rosie, and she had these great blue eyes- It sounds like you like her. No! No! Of course not!) when Rosethorn's father walked up behind her. He hugged her tightly, then held her away and examined her closely.
"I hear you've done well. First credentials at Lightsbridge, now this. Congratulations, Niva-girl."
She smiled weakly. "Yes, Papa. It's pretty good."
Her brothers crowded around, hugged her and said their goodbyes before melting into the masses of dedicates.
"So what are you going to do next? Do you have to stay here, or can you. . . travel abroad?"
Rosethorn sighed. "Papa, I'm not coming home. I took vows for the temple here, so this is where I stay. Besides, I think everyone's probably happier that I'm here."
"Niva, just because you-"
"Papa, before I came here, I had a lot of screw-ups. The barley crop-"
"You didn't even know you had magic."
"The roses? The cherry trees?"
"Those were-"
"'Accidents!' I know! The vines, the thorn bushes, the fennel- What about Hannah's apple trees? And Lise's potato patch? Evan's pumpkin plant! Were those all 'accidents'? Papa, I've been learning here. How to control my magic and things like that."
He sighed. This was a much repeated argument, and they both knew it. "Niva-girl. I'll agree you've been learning here, but it's time to come home. Thyme Circle in Anderran is perfectly fine for you. I still don't know why you insisted on coming here."
Rosethorn stuck her chin out mulishly. "Winding Circle better meets the needs of mages with unusual magic. My magic is unusual. Thyme Circle told you that."
"Unusual? You have green magic, girl. People on all sides of the Pebbled Sea have green magic."
"But their's isn't like mine! They can't feel like I do or make the plants move around for them. Papa, Froststar said I might be a great mage someday! I have to stay here if I want that to happen." As she closed her mouth, Rosethorn realized she had said the wrong thing.
"In that case you must come home. Don't you feel any loyalty to your country? Your family? Your gods cursed plants? You could make Anderran a great country, chief crop exporter for this whole region."
Rosethorn bit her lip. "Papa, I love Anderran. It's where I grew up and where almost everyone I know lives. It's just that... Anderran doesn't love me. Everyone may be polite on the outside, but they haven't forgotten what happened. They still remember all my 'accidents' and the pirate attack-"
Rosethorn's father seized her tightly by the shoulders. "The pirate attack wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. And what happened to that pirate was self-defense. No one can blame you."
Thorns ripping up through the ground, not stopping when they hit pirate flesh. It had taken her father and two other men to cut the thicket of thorns down after the attack. Even when she left for Lightsbridge, there had been rough stumps in the yard outside the door.
"But they remember, Papa. They don't think of it the same way you do. I think it's best if I stay here, for everyone's sake." Tears suddenly threatened to spill down her cheeks. "I love you Papa, and Dai, and Even, and Lars. I want you to be happy and live normal lives, not be worring about a mage-child running around and ruining crops and killing pirates." Rosethorn shut her mouth and looked away, hoping her father couldn't see the tears.
He sighed. "If that's the way it must be, Niva-girl, then so it is. I expect you to write home and visit once in a while." He turned to join his sons, then paused. "I also expect you to come to Lars' wedding in the Gorse Moon." He was silent a moment longer, then quickly said "I love you too."
Next Chapter
Eight Years Later
Rosethorn sat at the counter of an Air workroom, a tray of human essence before her, watching as the rain turned everything outside to mud. She sighed and looked back down at her tray. She was helping several other Air and Water dedicates create a cure for the dragon pox that ravaged the Mire each spring. It was incredibly boring. All they did was add a drip of this and a spoonful of that to the little wells of essence. There was no excitement.
She added marshmallow and valerian to the last row of wells, then corked her bottles and carried the tray to the cabinet where it was stored overnight. There wasn't really enough time to start another tray, but Rosethorn picked up a new set of wells anyways. People were dying and the least she could do was spend some time trying to help. She set the tray on her table and began unstoppering little vials of oils and herbs.
This should be exciting. I mean, no one's ever done this before and it's going to save hundreds of people. Rosethorn sighed. But this is going to drive me insane. Locked up in a little room. I'd be more useful with my plants, doing somthing...else. Like tea.
The door banged open and Crane strode in, hands hanging elegantly out of his sleeves, the black stripe along the bottom of his yellow habit perfectly clean. "All right, time to clean up. There's nothing more to be done tonight." He began to circulate through the tables, nodding approval or sighing deeply.
Rosethorn sat stiffly, hands frozen on her bottles. "Whatever do you mean, 'nothing more to be done'? There's always something we can do."
Crane came to stand by her shoulder. "We can't save everyone, my dear. We'll save more if we're rested and ready to use magic."
She bolted up. "If we use every drop of magic we have, every day, we'll save more. There are people dying right now!"
Her words echoed through the silent room. The other dedicates stared at her in surprise. Talking back was one thing. Talking back to a dedicate initiate was another.
The remembrance of the black stripe sent hot anger through Rosethorn's veins. "People are dying. Maybe if we worked through the night we could have save them. But we won't. Because we never do!" She screamed loudly.
"We do what we can." Crane's voice was ice cold.
"'What we can' seems to be different depending on who's being helped." She lowered her voice and made a guess. "I'm not stupid. I know you and the other initiates work overtime to try and figure out what's wrong with Froststar."
Crane went stiff. "Where did you hear that?"
Rosethorn glared at him and lied. "Isn't it obvious? Everyone knows. She's sick, and Mila strike me if any of you know what's wrong." It wasn't that obvious. Froststar didn't walk through the temple like she used to and she didn't do flashy magic, but she was old, and busy training a successor. Crane and most of the initiates were late to breakfast and left dinner early, but that could mean any number of things. But Rosethorn wasn't about to admit that.
Crane was pale, with fear or fury Rosethorn couldn't tell. "I'd appreciate if you would keep this to yourself, whether or not it's 'obvious,' as you put it," he hissed. "We are doing everything we can for everyone, the people in the... Mire... included."
Rosethorn glared at him. They weren't doing enough. And Crane didn't care.
She didn't even think as she reached out and slapped Crane across the face with a tremendous crack. An emotion (Fear? Surprise? Hurt?) flitted across his eyes before cold steel settled on his face. Rosethorn gritted her teeth and lunged at Crane, knocking him to the floor. She swung at him with everything Lars, Evan, and Dai taught her before he managed to shove her away. She fell backwards into her chair, which crashed down upon the two of them. Then the other dedicates were there, trying to pull her away. A tall man wrapped his arms about her, and she tried to kick his shins. He didn't let go, so she released a flood of magic into the floor.
Crane froze as long-thorned roses broke out of the floorboards and began to wrap around him. They snaked up his body and stopped at his shoulders. One threw a fine tendril around his neck. The vines blossomed suddenly, the buds along their lengths opening up into plate-sized, pale pink flowers.
The tall dedicate was distracted just long enough for Rosethorn to break away. She turned and ran, thowing open the door and bursting into the pounding rain. Someone called after her, but she ran faster, mud sucking her feet and spashing her habit. She had just passed the last Air workroom when she stepped into a deep puddle. She lost her balance and fell, face first into the mud. It soaked her habit and caked her bare skin.
Rosethorn swore and ripped her sandals from her feet. She could run better barefoot. The habit was ground into the mud next to the sandals. Skirts were useless.
Voices began to clamor behind her, and she could her slapping feet. Suddenly, she had an idea. Rosethorn lay back in the mud and smeared across her gleaming white underrobe and ivory skin. When she was thoroughly brown, she leapt up and dodged behind the nearest tree.
The tall dedicate who had held her was at the lead, and he paused to look at her habit and shoes. He rose and scanned the ground for footprints. Rosethorn swore silently, turned and scrambled over the fence behind her. She landed in someone's backyard when the dedicates realized where she had gone. She ran across the yard, climbed the next fence and began tearing across the temple. She followed the roads when she met them and ran through yards when the roads stopped. The dedicates' calls began to fade away, but Rosethorn kept running. It was one thing to yell at a dedicate initiate, it was another matter entirely to hit one and then use magic against him. She winced at the memory and tripped, falling face-down in someone's garden.
Breath...tbc
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Last Night
Rosethorn set her elbows on the table and rested her head in her palms; she didn't care if it was impolite. The ceremonial dinner had lasted longer than the new dedicate had hoped, and she hadn't even talked to her family yet, not really. She closed her eyes. I can listen with my eyes shut, just fine. A moment later, it seemed, her elbow slipped and her cheekbone collided painfully with her plate. Rosethorn sighed and sat up again. No one had really appeared to notice, so she took her napkin and swiped chocolate pudding from her face. She glanced around again and saw Crane smiling at her, eyes dancing. She stuck her tongue out at him and jumped as the other dedicates began clapping the last speaker. Finally it's over!
She hopped to her feet, exhaustion forgotten, and looked around for her family.
(It's nearly 11. I'm tired. To be continued....)
She hopped to her feet, exhaustion forgotten, and looked around for her family.
(It's nearly 11. I'm tired. To be continued....)
Monday, May 16, 2011
More detailed plot line...
So, some more ideas. I'm thinking I'll stick with the Fairy idea, and I want to get it planned out before November, because it'll be insane with all I have going on. I don't like the way this sounds, but I'd like NaNo to be as easy as I can make it. That's not saying much though.
To business:
The main plot runs like this. We have a primary character, Liz Swenson, who's some sort of actress. She's big name and not necessarily nice. She gets a call/letter from a Make-A-Wish number that says a girl named Laura Lewis wants to visit her. Laura Lewis comes and turns out to be a wiser-than-her-years little girl. She'll have something along the lines of being apparently allergic to most everything, spec. metal, urban environments, and processed food. Liz and Laura are in a car going somewhere, and then there's what appears to be a car crash. They wake up in a room that's a cross between Indian (continental) and hospital. A pale man awaits them. His name is Kaze Yama. I want him to be able to turn into a dog. Somehow they end up figuring out they've been transported to Fairy. Laura is the princess/changeling and Liz was accidentally brought to Fairy also. I think Liz will wander for a bit. I have a few things that need to come in at some point.
To business:
The main plot runs like this. We have a primary character, Liz Swenson, who's some sort of actress. She's big name and not necessarily nice. She gets a call/letter from a Make-A-Wish number that says a girl named Laura Lewis wants to visit her. Laura Lewis comes and turns out to be a wiser-than-her-years little girl. She'll have something along the lines of being apparently allergic to most everything, spec. metal, urban environments, and processed food. Liz and Laura are in a car going somewhere, and then there's what appears to be a car crash. They wake up in a room that's a cross between Indian (continental) and hospital. A pale man awaits them. His name is Kaze Yama. I want him to be able to turn into a dog. Somehow they end up figuring out they've been transported to Fairy. Laura is the princess/changeling and Liz was accidentally brought to Fairy also. I think Liz will wander for a bit. I have a few things that need to come in at some point.
- Two zombies singing "I Love Brains" NOT GROSS ZOMBIES
- A WoW-based physical world.
- Several races- elves, dwarves, zombies, fairies all belonging to either Seelie or Unseelie.
- There's some humans too; the city is their main one though, so they aren't a majority.
- Clothes are medieval- tunics, breeches, dresses/petticoats, and robes.
- The city will be similar to Dolanaar, ie, tree-houses and waterways. Greecian style. Their will be Thunder Bluffs based elevators/towers though.
- Liz's character needs to develop.
- Liz turns out to be the Unseelie princess.
- Not a Seelie/Unseelie clash, I don't think... I'm hoping to save that for Holly Silver.
- People protest Laura's arrival, mystery behind that?
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Nano '11
So, some more ideas. (What do you think?)
Start with two characters.One, let's say Liz Swenson, is some kind of actress. She gets a letter from a MakeAWish-ish thing saying that a girl, Laura Lewis, wants to meet her for the wish. Laura shows up and is this kinda sickly kid who seems to be allergic to pretty much everything. Something happens, I don't know what, the apocalypse or something, and they end up in Faerie. That would be a bit like a WoW uni and I want a couple of zombies in it. Not bad ones, but like KristinaandLukesingingILoveBrains zombies. And it turns out Laura is some kind of fairy princess and that's why she was sick. You know, iron and all that. Liz is totally lost, even though her movie chars are total sheroes. Something else needs to happen and Liz proves she's not a total moron. The End
Start with two characters.One, let's say Liz Swenson, is some kind of actress. She gets a letter from a MakeAWish-ish thing saying that a girl, Laura Lewis, wants to meet her for the wish. Laura shows up and is this kinda sickly kid who seems to be allergic to pretty much everything. Something happens, I don't know what, the apocalypse or something, and they end up in Faerie. That would be a bit like a WoW uni and I want a couple of zombies in it. Not bad ones, but like KristinaandLukesingingILoveBrains zombies. And it turns out Laura is some kind of fairy princess and that's why she was sick. You know, iron and all that. Liz is totally lost, even though her movie chars are total sheroes. Something else needs to happen and Liz proves she's not a total moron. The End
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Drabbles for Lit Mag
Prompt: Wildfire, coffee, the name "Eileen"
Title: "Truck on Fire"
The engine grumbled to a standstill and Elisha opened her eyes. The green, Forest Service fire truck was parked outside an all night cafe somewhere. Elisha didn't know specifically where. Somewhere near a wildfire, presumably.
Joel, from the seat opposite Elisha, shoved the door open and jumped to the ground. He carried two enormous Thermoses.
"Shut the door Joel, you're letting the warm air out!" Eileen called from the driver's seat.
"Will do." He let the door closed and hurried up to the cafe. Elisha watched through the windows as he walked up to register and a waitress bought out two pots of coffee which she poured into the Thermoses. Joel pulled the handful of small change he had gathered that morning and tipped it onto the counter. The waitress looked mildly amused as he tried to count it all out to her.
After a few more moments, Joel finished and jogged back out to the truck. He buckled back into his seat and uncapped the Thermos.
"Alright, who needs it first?"
Eileen restarted the engine began to shift through the gears. "Driver gets dibs."
Ryan leaned towards the radio and flicked it on. Taylor Swift resounded through the truck.
Eileen flicked it off. "It's too early Ry."
On. "It's officially 6:00." He grinned. "Besides there's only another half-hour 'til we get there."
Elisha accepted a cup of coffee and glanced at the dark road. "Where are we going anyways?"
Ryan shrugged. "Where the trees are on fire. I dunno."
Off. "It's called Chaple Vale. Lee said someone from the fire tower called it in."
On. "So I was right. Where the trees are on fire."
Eileen sighed and switched the radio station. Blaring rock boomed through the speakers. "If we have to listen, it's my choice. We can listen to Swift on the way back."
"Yeah, providing the truck doesn't catch fire again."
Prompt: Steampunk, emeralds, police
Title: "Green Fire"
The woman leaned back into her dark corner of the room. She was almost fashionable, wearing a dark jacket and trousers, with her coppery hair coiled back. She wore tall, heavy boots that were more what you'd expect to see on a Grundholt engineer. Her name was Enna Lynch and she didn't care about fashion or engineering. Enna was waiting for a few people, some she knew, some she didn't. They were her new crew for her airship.
She sat up as an athletic, dark-skinned man walked in. He was one of the new crew, Enna knew it. For one thing, he didn't look comfortable amid the hulking sky-sailors that crowded the room. For another, he had one of Enna's advertising fliers in his hand. She stood with a sigh and waved him over.
"Enna Lynch, captain of the Atlantis Star?"
"That's me." Enna didn't wait for him to say anything else. "I'm looking for people willing to sky-sail to Pikom. I have a valuable cargo and I don't particularly trust any of this lot to do the job. . . properly." She waved a hand at the other sky-hands.
In other words, I need someone stupid enough not to mutiny.
"What's the cargo?" The man didn't look greedy, just suspicious.
Enna reached into her boot and pulled out an emerald, gleaming with green fire. She set it carefully on the table where only the new man could see it.
His eyes widened and he looked up. "A whole shipload of these? All the way to Pikom? That's expensive. Who-"
"It doesn't matter who or how much. It just matters if you can keep your mouth shut and do the job. If you want to, be at the J dock on Delaney Street at six- in the morning- tomorrow." Enna slid the emerald back into her boot while carefully watching the man.
He looked thoughtful for a moment, then replied "Lee Shadow, I'll see you in the morning." He pushed back his chair and stuck out his hand. Enna reached out to shake and froze.
"Don't turn around. There's a couple of coppers coming in. On three, turn and go out that door." She pointed. "One. . . Two. . ."
Then suddenly, there was a loud bang and a stampede for the doors.
Title: "Truck on Fire"
The engine grumbled to a standstill and Elisha opened her eyes. The green, Forest Service fire truck was parked outside an all night cafe somewhere. Elisha didn't know specifically where. Somewhere near a wildfire, presumably.
Joel, from the seat opposite Elisha, shoved the door open and jumped to the ground. He carried two enormous Thermoses.
"Shut the door Joel, you're letting the warm air out!" Eileen called from the driver's seat.
"Will do." He let the door closed and hurried up to the cafe. Elisha watched through the windows as he walked up to register and a waitress bought out two pots of coffee which she poured into the Thermoses. Joel pulled the handful of small change he had gathered that morning and tipped it onto the counter. The waitress looked mildly amused as he tried to count it all out to her.
After a few more moments, Joel finished and jogged back out to the truck. He buckled back into his seat and uncapped the Thermos.
"Alright, who needs it first?"
Eileen restarted the engine began to shift through the gears. "Driver gets dibs."
Ryan leaned towards the radio and flicked it on. Taylor Swift resounded through the truck.
Eileen flicked it off. "It's too early Ry."
On. "It's officially 6:00." He grinned. "Besides there's only another half-hour 'til we get there."
Elisha accepted a cup of coffee and glanced at the dark road. "Where are we going anyways?"
Ryan shrugged. "Where the trees are on fire. I dunno."
Off. "It's called Chaple Vale. Lee said someone from the fire tower called it in."
On. "So I was right. Where the trees are on fire."
Eileen sighed and switched the radio station. Blaring rock boomed through the speakers. "If we have to listen, it's my choice. We can listen to Swift on the way back."
"Yeah, providing the truck doesn't catch fire again."
Prompt: Steampunk, emeralds, police
Title: "Green Fire"
The woman leaned back into her dark corner of the room. She was almost fashionable, wearing a dark jacket and trousers, with her coppery hair coiled back. She wore tall, heavy boots that were more what you'd expect to see on a Grundholt engineer. Her name was Enna Lynch and she didn't care about fashion or engineering. Enna was waiting for a few people, some she knew, some she didn't. They were her new crew for her airship.
She sat up as an athletic, dark-skinned man walked in. He was one of the new crew, Enna knew it. For one thing, he didn't look comfortable amid the hulking sky-sailors that crowded the room. For another, he had one of Enna's advertising fliers in his hand. She stood with a sigh and waved him over.
"Enna Lynch, captain of the Atlantis Star?"
"That's me." Enna didn't wait for him to say anything else. "I'm looking for people willing to sky-sail to Pikom. I have a valuable cargo and I don't particularly trust any of this lot to do the job. . . properly." She waved a hand at the other sky-hands.
In other words, I need someone stupid enough not to mutiny.
"What's the cargo?" The man didn't look greedy, just suspicious.
Enna reached into her boot and pulled out an emerald, gleaming with green fire. She set it carefully on the table where only the new man could see it.
His eyes widened and he looked up. "A whole shipload of these? All the way to Pikom? That's expensive. Who-"
"It doesn't matter who or how much. It just matters if you can keep your mouth shut and do the job. If you want to, be at the J dock on Delaney Street at six- in the morning- tomorrow." Enna slid the emerald back into her boot while carefully watching the man.
He looked thoughtful for a moment, then replied "Lee Shadow, I'll see you in the morning." He pushed back his chair and stuck out his hand. Enna reached out to shake and froze.
"Don't turn around. There's a couple of coppers coming in. On three, turn and go out that door." She pointed. "One. . . Two. . ."
Then suddenly, there was a loud bang and a stampede for the doors.
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