“So, that’s all of it,” Khy said, handing Dmitri the last of the letters. “Father…” she said, then stopped, blinking very rapidly. “Father, do you hate me?”
Dmitri looked over all of the letters carefully. “No, Khy, I don’t. You made mistakes, though. Big mistakes that could have been remedied if you’d come to me sooner.”
“Father, I was scared,” Khy said quietly. “Scared of you, of her, of the politics, of appearances… everything.”
Dmitri frowned, but said nothing.
“What do I do now? What do we do now?”
Dmitri sighed. “Khy, I want you to listen to me, aright? Before you say anything, you’ve got to listen.”
Khy nodded, a sudden new lump in her throat. She listened as Dmitri outlined what he thought. “So,” she said finally, “I would go along with all of this?”
Dmitri nodded.
“Who would I get to tell?”
He hesitated. “It’s in both of our best interests if you would tell no one.”
“Not even Ash?”
“Not even him,” Dmitri confirmed. He reached up and brushed some of Khy’s hair out of her face. “I know it will be hard, Khyansaria,” he said quietly, “but hopefully, it’ll be over within a few months.”
“Father, they’ll all hate me,” She protested.
He sighed. “Not after I explain, aright, dear? Will you trust me?”
“There hasn’t been a time in my life when I haven’t,” she told him honestly. “If you want me to, Father, I will. But you had best have Cate teach me all she knows.” She looked out the window to the pouring rain outside. “Especially how to fight.”
In leiu of a normal story tonight, I will be updating the brief history and the about tabs at the top of my blog.
I wrote about 6k of collaboration/RP with my friend today.
“And you’re willing to die for this?” the man said, his face all angles in the dim light one flickering candle could provide.
Tari nodded, frightened but determined. She swallowed. “I pledge my life,” she told him. She could feel the sting of the many welts on her back. “They’ve determined I’m good for nothing but brute strength work anyhow.”
“That’s a shame,” he said quietly, cupping his hand around the candle as others stirred. “You’re a smart girl, Evelyn.”
Tari shifted. “If I were smart, I mightn’t have made them mad,” she told the old man.She would have smiled if she still didn’t hurt so much.
“But then you wouldn’t be Evelyn,” he said, cupping her cheek in his hand and smiling softly. “You’re my child,” he told her. “You have my eyes.”
She tried to reach through the bars to him, but drew her hand back when she heard a noise and blew out the candle. “Go, now,” she hissed, “I can’t save you if you get caught.”
She heard the man slipping away and leaned back against the bars of the cage. Maybe they were letting her out sooner this time. That would be nice. They’d expanded her elf-mark after they’d whipped her, and her back hurt like the Hells.
But once they were freed, they wouldn’t have whips or elf-marks any longer. Tari pulled her legs to her chest and sighed. That was what the Resistance stood for. What she stood for, now that she had nothing left to feel grateful for.
She wondered if she should feel hopeful or scared about the fact that all they had was an idea.
As my three valiant readers may have noticed, I skip all over the place when writing my prompts. Anywhere in what now is a five hundred year period because I haven’t written the thousand year characters yet.
So, to make things a bit easier, I’m adding a category for each general ‘era’ the story falls under. I’m also going to try to finish all of the pages at the top of my blog.
My magic system is now mostly worked out, and my history is entirely coherent.
Yay!
“Face me,” he snarled at her, slamming the tip of his staff into the ground. “Stand and face me. Remember the proud family you used to be a part of? Act like us again, instead of the coward you’ve become.”
Khy turned and crossed her arms, glaring at her younger brother with no small annoyance. “What now? A chance meeting outside of the wind’s stronghold, Shadow’s pet? You’ve got nerve to come here and demand something of me.”
“You’re a bloody coward,” he said, “to challenge me then ignore me. Just like the man you joined.”
“Don’t try and shame me, Athral Ellisand,” she hissed, “because I feel none. I survived as best I could, and you’d have done the same.”
“You don’t?” Ash said softly, hand wrapped so tightly around his staff it began to ache, “No shame at all for what you did to us?” He shook his head. “You don’t deserve a name, let alone the proud one you’re abusing. You didn’t even know Taelynn left Dmitri, did you?”
Khy looked nonplussed for a second, but quickly recovered her cool. “Why should I care?” she asked, turning her back. She’d known, of course, but she had to stick with the plan. Everything was part of the plan.
“Because he’s dead, Khy,” Ash spat at her. “Just like Light. Taelynn left him, you betrayed him, and he died of a broken heart.”
Khy froze. Father… She held onto her staff just as tightly as Ash was holding his. She’d never see him again, never be able to make her final report… Couldn’t tell Ash the truth, even now. “So then you’re the Shadow?” she spat, then exhaled in relief. That had come out suitably acidic.
“I am,” Ash said.
“And the Shadow himself is coming to see the wind, alone? How quaint and trusting of you, brother dear.” Khy tipped her head back. They had made a code once, when they were children, to keep things secret from the others, in training even then. “You’re obviously not as good as him. You never could keep up.” There. A beginning.
“What makes you say that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
“A Shadow should know everything,” she said, “about those around him, whether to trust them.”
“And Khy knows better, don’t you? Second of the wind, failed even by her own standards. Tell me. Is this what you planned?”
“Father taught me more than you,” she retorted, clenching a fist.
His eyes widened. There. He had the message. Good enough for now.
“At least I stayed by his side, traitor,” Ash retorted, and they glared at each other.
Khy drew her sword.
He could have prevented this one. He could have stopped it flat cold.
Dmitri felt his stomach twist as he realized what had happened. Noek… Oh Gods. And it was all his fault. If he’d taken care of Noek and his family like he should have, Noek’s family would have been safe. They would have been alive. He might have been alive.
But they were dead. They were all dead. His stomach heaved, and he ran for the sink. Oh, Gods. I’m sorry.
He wiped his face off with shaking hands. One of the few men he’d trusted, one of the few people he’d loved, was dead, burned alive. At least they’d used wet wood, because he’d only tried, not succeeded.
He had been too late. Again. He was always too late. He felt tears prick his eyes, and blinked angrily. He knew that it had been a hard enough task finding someone who could have influenced the results that quickly, but he could have done more.
There was always more.
Maybe if he’d gone, he wouldn’t have been captured. It wasn’t even all that important of an assignment, just a dangerous one. It could have been important, perhaps, if Noek had gone further, but he hadn’t.
He wiped his face again, looked in the mirror, and made sure he looked presentable before walking out of his office and softly locking the door behind him with shaking hands.
He wasn’t wearing the best clothes for it, it was true, but he wouldn’t be when he fought all of the time. That was an equal part of practice.
If it had been forty years, Light wouldn’t have done it. Hell, if it had been twenty, or even fifteen, he probably wouldn’t have done it. But six… six was much too young. She deserved better. Noek had failed, but he was still convicted for trying. Now his daughter lay under Light’s care.
Sometimes he hated doing the things he did. He had assumed Noek was smarter, stronger. Now a little girl had paid. But there was a way for him to pay it back.
The spell the Kiss of Life was not merely a triman spell, it was faelan and cenlan and triman all rolled up into one. It was an exchange.
He drew the circle around Maya carefully, interlacing red, green, yellow, blue and white chalk lines. She deserved more. He opened her brown eyes carefully. She’d only been dead for a little while, that was a good thing. Just long enough to see her father thrown into a regular prison for trying to save her.
He settled himself down in the circle next to her. Six years of his life… gone, just like that, if he completed the spell. Fortunately, they subtracted from the end, instead of aging him. Six years. He looked down at her terrifed young face, so still in the morning light.
He murmured the words to send himself to the Other Side, and began to search. She shouldn’t be too hard to find. He was the one who had killed her after all. And those always had a connection.
One soul floated in front of him, lost and lonely. He grabbed her arm. “Sshh…” he told her. “Ssh… I’m here to help.”
The soul flew toward him.
He woke himself partially, and pressed his lips to hers.
She began to breathe.
((for the background to this post, refer to: http://khyansaria.wordpress.com/2009/10/11/whod-be-the-fool/ ))
“It’s been seven days, Noek Rialan,” Light said, tearing the blindfold off the man’s face. “Your time is up.” He began to pace in front of Noek, a slight frown on his face, “And you have said nothing. Need I remind you of my last ultimatum?”
Noek shook his head, his throat so dry he could barely have spoken even if he wanted to.
“Then will you tell me what I need to know?” Light asked, green eyes solemn.
“Not ’til the Gods die,” he said, voice dry, weak, and rasping. He coughed, and it shook his entire thin frame. He could taste blood. “Shadow… takes care of mine.” He tugged at the bonds around his wrists. “I take care… of his.”
“Would you keep your silence even if you knew Shadow didn’t care? That he’d failed you?” Light tilted his head and watched for a reaction.
“Shadow… takes care of mine,” Noek repeated, closing his eyes.
“Very well,” Light said, and he walked out of the cell, leaving Noek’s blindfold off.
Noek felt his stomach heave. What was Light planning? He was the first person who’d found Noek out, the first person who’d captured Noek and held him so that Noek had been unable to escape. And he had no doubt that Light would carry out his ultimatum if he was able to get to Noek’s family. But he trusted Shadow.
The few times he had met the man, he seemed extremely caring and dedicated– almost obsessed– with protecting his country and people. Noek remembered seeing him shaking with silent grief after one of his agents had been killed.
His head snapped up when he heard shrieking from the next room. “Daddy will make you pay for this! You’ll see!” Then the shriek turned into a wordless scream.
Noek retched. He recognized that voice. “Stop!” he called, as loud as his parched throat would allow. “Don’t! Please!”
Light looked into the cell. “Don’t what?” he said mildly. It appeared he hadn’t moved since he left.
“…Hurt her,” Noek said, breathing hard. “Please. Don’t.” He sagged in his bonds, head bowed.
“So you’ll tell me what I need to know?”
Noek hesitated, tears streaking down his face. Shadow had failed him. “…Yes. Just don’t hurt her. Or the others.”
Light grinned, and suddenly he looked entirely too much like an elf for Noek’s comfort. “Very well, then, Master Rialan.” He unlocked the door and cut through Noek’s bonds. He led Noek into the next room.
Noek’s daughter was huddled in the corner of the room, watching fearfully. “Daddy?” she asked disbelievingly.
“Maya!” he cried, and stumbled over to her, holding her in his arms.
“Time to talk,” Light said, locking the door behind him and handing Noek a canteen.
Noek nodded and took a drink.
Noek answered all of Light’s questions in a soft and broken voice, though all were the truth. He held Maya fiercely in his arms.
“Thank you, Key,” Light said, after taking notes for a while. “You and your daughter are free to roam.”
Noek shook Maya awake and helped her stand up, then stood up after her. “You promised, Light,” he reminded the other man quietly.
“I lied.” Light shot Maya in the chest and walked out, locking the door behind him. Maya fell to the floor.
Oh gods. Noek looked around. There was a single book lying on the floor next to a chalk circle. He could read the title from here: Triman. So that was Light’s game. He gritted his teeth against the tears welling in his eyes.
Did he save his daughter at the cost of his own life, burned at the stake as a necromancer, or did he leave her to die for an unlikely survival?
That was no choice at all.
Chandra looked down, face contorting as she tired to hold her emotions back. “Father, Mother,” she said, then swallowed and tried again. “Nessa, Searen, Nolan and I are sixteen years of age today. Today is the day we are supposed to choose which of your names we pass on to our children.” She looked down at her hand. She held Nolan’s hand in hers. “But, I– we–” She wrapped her arms around herself until she could quell the shudderings of her wasted frame. There were reasons that twins usually died together. At this point, he looked healthier than she did.
They waited for her to continue. There were many chairs in Nolan’s room; at this point, all family meetings were held there, out of a frail hope, perhaps. “Go on, Alyse,” Nessa said softly.
“You don’t have to choose today,” Searen added. “You have a full week until the presentation ceremony.”
“No, Searen,” Chandra said, again feeling odd for using her father’s first name. It was only proper now that she was of age, but it didn’t mean she would be comfortable with it for a long while.
“No,” she repeated.
“Alyse, it’s aright,” Searen said, but she shook her head. She would never use his family name, of course, that was only for equals or superiors within the family.
“Searen, Andran– Nolan and I have been debating this since we were old enough to think of our coming of age,” she said, and swallowed again, clenching Nolan’s hand in her own. “The only thing we’d agreed on up to this point was that we’d break the tradition of first and second children, and take the same name. We’re too close not to.
“And, I know that ever since Nolan was a little kid, ever since you told us the history of our families, Nolan has admired the Fenial family. Their hardships, their charity, their openness. Especially you, Father,” she said, barely feeling the tears beginning to slide down her cheeks. “So, in accordance with my little brother’s wishes, I christen myself Chandra Alyse Fenial.”
She wrapped her hands around both of his wrists playfully, teasing him, but the pressure was still enough to make him give a startled cry.
“What’s wrong, Dmitri?” she asked him, confused.
“I–I cut myself,” he said pressing down on the palm of his right hand through the glove. Gods, he thought, bitter, mocking tone predominant, You’d think a spymaster would learn to lie about sensitive subjects. “Tari and I were sparring yesterday.”
“And you let her cut you?” she asked incredulously.
“I’m not exactly older than the Fall like she is,” Dmitri retorted. He rubbed his wrists nervously. “Excuse me for losing.”
Nessa shook her head. “Tari’s getting old, Dmitri,” she said, “and you’re in your prime.”
“Her age is unchanging.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Dmitri shrugged. “Fine, then, I was lying. What are you going to do?”
She gave him a Look. “Dmitri, we want you to get better. All of us do. That’s why Searen’s here, and I’m here, and Zephyr’s here.”
He sighed. “I understand.” He didn’t so much sit as fall onto the bench. “It’s just… hard. You know?”
“Not your particular situation,” Nessa said, sitting down next to him with her arm around his shoulder, “but I know.” She tightened her grip a bit and he twitched away. She sighed. “Listen, dummy,” she said, turning toward him and looking into his now clouded eyes. “Just because you won’t tell us what happened doesn’t mean that we don’t know something happened. Hell, look at you!” She said frustratedly. “You wear gloves and long sleeves all the time! It’s the middle of goddamn summder and you don’t wear anything that would show below your collarbone or any of your arms. You wear glasses! Dmitri…”
He refused to meet her eyes.
“We’re here to help, okay?”
