Original Fiction -- First Confluence
Dec. 1st, 2015 02:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
squeaklingsTitle: First Confluence
Wordcount: 2303
Fandom: original, Daeron!book
Rating: PG
Warnings: violence
Summary: A first meeting, an endless threat.
Notes: This is a snippet of a scene that takes place about 1/3 through the story (I think, it's still kind of nebulous). By technicality it is spoilery, but mainly in that "first turning point" kind of way. Also in super super beta.
Morning sunlight shone down through the canopy above him, and Daeron shielded his eyes as he looked up at the blue sky through the leaves. A wisp or two of cloud passed by.
“Are you sure, Erain? I see no sign of an oncoming storm.”
His companion turned to look back at him from the front of the group. The others stopped as well to look back at him.
“In here you will not. The forest protects us.” Erain gently touched the trunk of one of the narrow, white trees. “But the fields offer no reprieve from the winds.”
“We didn't have a problem before we came in here though,” Eon pointed out.
“We were not in his domain before.”
Daeron frowned. “Whose?”
Erain stared up at the canopy in silence, and Daeron sighed. Tika caught his look and raised an eyebrow, and Daeron simply shrugged. The silent mentor bit was getting old, but he'd long accepted that Erain kept her own council.
“We cannot stand around here, though,” Nasheer said. “At the very least, I don't plan on doing so.” He turned and began to walk again, Eon at his heels saying something Daeron couldn't make out.
“Erain?”
She lowered her head, her white hair blocking her face from view, and then with one last touch to the tree she turned to follow Nasheer.
“She's not very friendly, is she?” Tika asked as she came to stand beside him. Daeron shook his head. “Do you really think anything will happen?”
“I don't know. But I do feel uneasy, even here.”
Tika patted his shoulder. “Then I”ll keep an eye out.” He nodded, and they followed the others along the faint trails Erain found.
They passed a small stream where Nasheer insisted they refill their canteens and drink what they could, and Tika took off her boots to dance in the water as Eon prepared some semblance of a lunch for them. Fish and mushroom stew, he called it, but the bits of fish were few and far between, and it looked more like dirty water than soup, let alone stew. By the time they picked up, the midday sun was high overhead and Erain was restless.
“We must hurry. Come.”
“Has something happened?” Tika asked as she quickly dried off her feet and put her boots back on.
Erain paused. “I am not sure.”
They traveled in silence after that, Erain leading the way. Within the hour the trees began to thin, and Daeron could spot rolling fields every now and again. Erain paused as they reached the outer edges of the woods, surveying the sky. The few wispy clouds Daeron saw earlier had grown some, but the sky was mostly clear, and the grasses barely moved in the light breeze. If a storm really was coming, Daeron couldn't believe it.
“We continue,” Erain finally said, and stepped out from the shade of the trees. Daeron waited a moment before following, and braced himself for the silence he knew would come. It didn't hit as hard as the first time, when he originally left home, but the lack of presence still unnerved him.
“This isn't so bad,” Eon said and stretched his arms over his head. “It was started to get really stuffy with all those trees around anyway.”
“I agree,” Nasheer said, although he looked wary as he spoke.
Erain scanned the skies for a long time before she finally looked back at them. “Do you not feel it?”
“Feel what?” Eon asked.
The grasses rustled around them, dancing in the breeze. Daeron shivered as the wind picked up, and Tika tensed, her eyes wide as something screeched in the distance.
“Get back!” Erain yelled, and turned only to freeze as the winds descended on them suddenly, the grass going nearly flat from the force of the gusts. The wind howled and Daeron shielded his head, calling out to the others without hope of answer in the surrounding maelstrom. The dust in the air stung his arms. He thought he heard Erain yell again, but when he looked over at her she was staring straight into the heart of the wind, her white hair twisting around her body like a whip.
And as suddenly as it appeared the wind stopped, leaving a strange young man in their midst. He was lithe, only slightly older than Eon. His skin was the color of the clay deep in the western mountains, his hair copper-colored and, Daeron was sure, half feathers. Where Erain was all whites, this man was all reds, and Daeron’s stomach clenched with dread as he looked between the two. Just what was going on?
“Ilvitre,” Erain breathed, barely loud enough for Daeron to hear just feet away. He hadn’t misheard, had he? But Ilvitre was a bird, not a boy… Louder, she said, “What are you doing here?”
The young man held her gaze for a long time before slowly looking at the others. He passed over Eon without pause, but studied Daeron and Nasheer for long moments before finally settling his gaze on Tika. His eyes were unsettlingly dark. “All the little children, all in a row,” he said, his voice higher than Daeron expected. He sounded like someone much younger. “I wanted to see them.” His gaze flicked back to Daeron. “This one is yours, I take it? How nice. And Visharu’s is here, too. And you.” He turned back to Tika, and his hand reached out unconsciously. There was a sadness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “Veilien's child.”
“Leave her alone!” Daeron found his voice at last and moved closer to the stranger, only for Erain to hold out a hand to block him. Eon practically thrummed with energy beside them, looking from Erain to the stranger to Tika and back again.
“Why are you here?” Erain asked again.
“Why act surprised? You knew I would come.”
Erain narrowed her eyes before she slowly shook her head, resigned. “I hoped you would not.” The stranger stared at her, his cocky expression faltering. “You know what we are doing?”
His hands clenched at his sides. “Of course.”
“We can help you,” she continued, voice soft, and the stranger glared as the winds suddenly picked up again.
“You can’t help me,” he cried, and suddenly he moved, faster than should be possible, and grabbed Tika by her hair, his other hand around her jaw. “Shh, it’s all right,” he cooed as she cried out, but the hand holding her face elongated until his fingers were like talons. Erain’s hand was the only thing keeping Daeron in check. “You’re soft,” he said. “Will you break, too?”
“Ilvitre, stop!” Erain yelled, and the wind howled again, forcing them all back.
“Stop calling me that!” His grip tightened in Tika’s hair, and she cried out in pain. Beside him, Eon looked as ready to pounce as Daeron felt.
“Ilvi—“
“That’s not my name!” His taloned hand dug into Tika’s skin enough to draw blood. Daeron’s entire body shook with rage and fear as he caught his friend’s terrified eyes.
“Aodre.”
The stranger froze at that, eyes wide as he stared at Erain. She’d stepped closer, halfway between Daeron and the young man, and the winds stilled around her. There was something different about her, a catch to her voice that Daeron had never heard before. “Erain?”
“Yes, it’s me. Please, calm down, Aodre.”
He still held Tika, but his grip loosened enough that she no longer looked to be in pain. “Erain, it hurts.” His eyes, once so dark they were almost black, shone as green as emeralds as tears tracked down his cheeks. “It won’t stop hurting.”
“I know,” she said, stepping closer. “But this won’t make it stop.” She gestured to Tika. “Let her go.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” Another step closer. “This isn’t right, you know that. Please, come with me. Let us help you.”
His eyes flashed dark. “Help me? You don’t want to help me. You just want everything to go back to how it’s always been.” His grip tightened again.
“We want you back. It’s why I’m here. You aren’t well.” She nodded to Tika. “Is this really what you want?”
His eyes lightened again as he looked at the woman in his grip. She was slightly taller than him, Daeron realized. What an odd thing to notice. Eon shifted beside him, leaning down very slowly to grab a handful of large rocks half-buried in the grass, and Daeron narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t lose focus.
“Why are they so fragile?” Aodre asked, and his grip in Tika’s hair loosened. Her eyes weren’t as full of terror as they had been, and she caught Daeron’s gaze with her own for a moment. “Why do they have to die?”
Erain took another step forward. Her voice was gentle, almost sad, and Daeron realized with a start that the strange catch he’d caught in her voice was actual emotion. “Everything ends, Aodre. It’s the nature of things.”
He looked over at her, stricken. “But not us.”
“Please, Aodre. Just let her go.” Erain was halfway to them now, her hands held in front of her in supplication. The wind whipped at her, but she stood tall and never took her eyes off the strange boy.
“It hurts, sister,” he said, his voice catching. “It won’t stop.”
“I know. But please—“
A roar echoed from the trees behind them. Bird flew from the canopy in droves, and the air stilled and cooled around them as a shadow fell over the small group. A giant snake with a long, toothy muzzle reared over them, its mouth gaping wide and it’s eyes shining as it stared down at them. It’s body undulated wildly like a river in a storm, and only then did Daeron realize it was water, as though the stream they’d passed earlier had come alive.
“Release her, Ilvitre.” Its voice boomed in Daeron’s head, strong and deep. He was reminded of the ocean waves Tika had described to him once long ago.
The stranger holding Tika stilled, his expression blank as he stared up at the serpent blotting out the sun. “So you finally make your appearance.” His talons grew again, and Tika’s eyes widened in shock. She tried to pull away and then froze as he dug his claws into her cheek, and only Eon’s hand on Daeron’s arm stopped him from rushing to them. He tossed the rocks he held and then nodded at Nasheer, and Daeron nodded. A plan, they had to make a plan. Rushing in like an idiot wouldn’t help.
“You need not do this, Ilvitre. Release her and come home.”
“Stop calling me that!” The wind picked up again, and the snake wavered in the sky as large swathes of water fell from its body. Daeron forced himself through the winds at Nasheer's insistent nod, Eon beside him and the older man across the way. They stopped as soon as the boy—Ilvtire? Aodre?—glanced back at them, his eyes dark once again.
“We just want to help you!” Erain called through the gale, her hair whipping around her in a flurry of white.
“You don’t,” he replied, and the wind died as quickly as it began. He looked at Tika again, but there was no softness in his gaze this time. “Can you tell me, Veilien, Ashieva; when was the last time you bothered to even meet your child? Can you even remember their names?”
The serpent stared at him, its eyes narrowed. “What are you playing at, Ilvitre?”
“Have you ever bothered to care, or have they always been nothing more than a tool to you?” He shifted his gaze to Erain. “Do you even remember how to feel?”
“Aodre…”
“Tell me, Veilien,” he said, turning away from Erain. “Have you felt your child die?”
The serpent hissed. “We have all lost children, Ilvitre. What are you—“
“No! You can’t lose something you never cared about in the first place!” He looked back at Erain, his dark eyes wide and pleading and crazed. “Were you there? Did you hold her as she died?”
Erain looked stricken.
He looked back at the snake. “Answer me!”
The serpent—Veilien—was silent a long while. When his voice next echoed in Daeron’s head it was soft, pained. “No.”
Ilvitre’s dark eyes flashed green for a moment, and Daeron felt his stomach bottom out as those dark eyes focused on Tika. “Maybe you should.”
The world narrowed around Daeron, his entire being focused solely on his friend and her captor. He vaguely heard Nasheer screaming “No!” and was that Eon’s hand on his arm? It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except Tika and the stranger. She caught his gaze and then threw her head back--too slow, why was everything so slow? The back of her head smashed into Ilvitre’s face right before Daeron reached them, and then the world spun as all three of them crashed to the ground. Through the haze he heard Tika scream.
The world snapped back as he met Ilvitre’s eyes, the sound rushing in to deafen him in the split second before Daeron was hurled away in a gust of wind so powerful it sent him flying.
He landed on his back fifteen feet away and gasped as the air rushed from his lungs and something in his side snapped. He just barely caught sight of giant wings extending into the air from within the gale where Ilvitre once stood, and then everything went black.
Wordcount: 2303
Fandom: original, Daeron!book
Rating: PG
Warnings: violence
Summary: A first meeting, an endless threat.
Notes: This is a snippet of a scene that takes place about 1/3 through the story (I think, it's still kind of nebulous). By technicality it is spoilery, but mainly in that "first turning point" kind of way. Also in super super beta.
Morning sunlight shone down through the canopy above him, and Daeron shielded his eyes as he looked up at the blue sky through the leaves. A wisp or two of cloud passed by.
“Are you sure, Erain? I see no sign of an oncoming storm.”
His companion turned to look back at him from the front of the group. The others stopped as well to look back at him.
“In here you will not. The forest protects us.” Erain gently touched the trunk of one of the narrow, white trees. “But the fields offer no reprieve from the winds.”
“We didn't have a problem before we came in here though,” Eon pointed out.
“We were not in his domain before.”
Daeron frowned. “Whose?”
Erain stared up at the canopy in silence, and Daeron sighed. Tika caught his look and raised an eyebrow, and Daeron simply shrugged. The silent mentor bit was getting old, but he'd long accepted that Erain kept her own council.
“We cannot stand around here, though,” Nasheer said. “At the very least, I don't plan on doing so.” He turned and began to walk again, Eon at his heels saying something Daeron couldn't make out.
“Erain?”
She lowered her head, her white hair blocking her face from view, and then with one last touch to the tree she turned to follow Nasheer.
“She's not very friendly, is she?” Tika asked as she came to stand beside him. Daeron shook his head. “Do you really think anything will happen?”
“I don't know. But I do feel uneasy, even here.”
Tika patted his shoulder. “Then I”ll keep an eye out.” He nodded, and they followed the others along the faint trails Erain found.
They passed a small stream where Nasheer insisted they refill their canteens and drink what they could, and Tika took off her boots to dance in the water as Eon prepared some semblance of a lunch for them. Fish and mushroom stew, he called it, but the bits of fish were few and far between, and it looked more like dirty water than soup, let alone stew. By the time they picked up, the midday sun was high overhead and Erain was restless.
“We must hurry. Come.”
“Has something happened?” Tika asked as she quickly dried off her feet and put her boots back on.
Erain paused. “I am not sure.”
They traveled in silence after that, Erain leading the way. Within the hour the trees began to thin, and Daeron could spot rolling fields every now and again. Erain paused as they reached the outer edges of the woods, surveying the sky. The few wispy clouds Daeron saw earlier had grown some, but the sky was mostly clear, and the grasses barely moved in the light breeze. If a storm really was coming, Daeron couldn't believe it.
“We continue,” Erain finally said, and stepped out from the shade of the trees. Daeron waited a moment before following, and braced himself for the silence he knew would come. It didn't hit as hard as the first time, when he originally left home, but the lack of presence still unnerved him.
“This isn't so bad,” Eon said and stretched his arms over his head. “It was started to get really stuffy with all those trees around anyway.”
“I agree,” Nasheer said, although he looked wary as he spoke.
Erain scanned the skies for a long time before she finally looked back at them. “Do you not feel it?”
“Feel what?” Eon asked.
The grasses rustled around them, dancing in the breeze. Daeron shivered as the wind picked up, and Tika tensed, her eyes wide as something screeched in the distance.
“Get back!” Erain yelled, and turned only to freeze as the winds descended on them suddenly, the grass going nearly flat from the force of the gusts. The wind howled and Daeron shielded his head, calling out to the others without hope of answer in the surrounding maelstrom. The dust in the air stung his arms. He thought he heard Erain yell again, but when he looked over at her she was staring straight into the heart of the wind, her white hair twisting around her body like a whip.
And as suddenly as it appeared the wind stopped, leaving a strange young man in their midst. He was lithe, only slightly older than Eon. His skin was the color of the clay deep in the western mountains, his hair copper-colored and, Daeron was sure, half feathers. Where Erain was all whites, this man was all reds, and Daeron’s stomach clenched with dread as he looked between the two. Just what was going on?
“Ilvitre,” Erain breathed, barely loud enough for Daeron to hear just feet away. He hadn’t misheard, had he? But Ilvitre was a bird, not a boy… Louder, she said, “What are you doing here?”
The young man held her gaze for a long time before slowly looking at the others. He passed over Eon without pause, but studied Daeron and Nasheer for long moments before finally settling his gaze on Tika. His eyes were unsettlingly dark. “All the little children, all in a row,” he said, his voice higher than Daeron expected. He sounded like someone much younger. “I wanted to see them.” His gaze flicked back to Daeron. “This one is yours, I take it? How nice. And Visharu’s is here, too. And you.” He turned back to Tika, and his hand reached out unconsciously. There was a sadness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “Veilien's child.”
“Leave her alone!” Daeron found his voice at last and moved closer to the stranger, only for Erain to hold out a hand to block him. Eon practically thrummed with energy beside them, looking from Erain to the stranger to Tika and back again.
“Why are you here?” Erain asked again.
“Why act surprised? You knew I would come.”
Erain narrowed her eyes before she slowly shook her head, resigned. “I hoped you would not.” The stranger stared at her, his cocky expression faltering. “You know what we are doing?”
His hands clenched at his sides. “Of course.”
“We can help you,” she continued, voice soft, and the stranger glared as the winds suddenly picked up again.
“You can’t help me,” he cried, and suddenly he moved, faster than should be possible, and grabbed Tika by her hair, his other hand around her jaw. “Shh, it’s all right,” he cooed as she cried out, but the hand holding her face elongated until his fingers were like talons. Erain’s hand was the only thing keeping Daeron in check. “You’re soft,” he said. “Will you break, too?”
“Ilvitre, stop!” Erain yelled, and the wind howled again, forcing them all back.
“Stop calling me that!” His grip tightened in Tika’s hair, and she cried out in pain. Beside him, Eon looked as ready to pounce as Daeron felt.
“Ilvi—“
“That’s not my name!” His taloned hand dug into Tika’s skin enough to draw blood. Daeron’s entire body shook with rage and fear as he caught his friend’s terrified eyes.
“Aodre.”
The stranger froze at that, eyes wide as he stared at Erain. She’d stepped closer, halfway between Daeron and the young man, and the winds stilled around her. There was something different about her, a catch to her voice that Daeron had never heard before. “Erain?”
“Yes, it’s me. Please, calm down, Aodre.”
He still held Tika, but his grip loosened enough that she no longer looked to be in pain. “Erain, it hurts.” His eyes, once so dark they were almost black, shone as green as emeralds as tears tracked down his cheeks. “It won’t stop hurting.”
“I know,” she said, stepping closer. “But this won’t make it stop.” She gestured to Tika. “Let her go.”
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” Another step closer. “This isn’t right, you know that. Please, come with me. Let us help you.”
His eyes flashed dark. “Help me? You don’t want to help me. You just want everything to go back to how it’s always been.” His grip tightened again.
“We want you back. It’s why I’m here. You aren’t well.” She nodded to Tika. “Is this really what you want?”
His eyes lightened again as he looked at the woman in his grip. She was slightly taller than him, Daeron realized. What an odd thing to notice. Eon shifted beside him, leaning down very slowly to grab a handful of large rocks half-buried in the grass, and Daeron narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t lose focus.
“Why are they so fragile?” Aodre asked, and his grip in Tika’s hair loosened. Her eyes weren’t as full of terror as they had been, and she caught Daeron’s gaze with her own for a moment. “Why do they have to die?”
Erain took another step forward. Her voice was gentle, almost sad, and Daeron realized with a start that the strange catch he’d caught in her voice was actual emotion. “Everything ends, Aodre. It’s the nature of things.”
He looked over at her, stricken. “But not us.”
“Please, Aodre. Just let her go.” Erain was halfway to them now, her hands held in front of her in supplication. The wind whipped at her, but she stood tall and never took her eyes off the strange boy.
“It hurts, sister,” he said, his voice catching. “It won’t stop.”
“I know. But please—“
A roar echoed from the trees behind them. Bird flew from the canopy in droves, and the air stilled and cooled around them as a shadow fell over the small group. A giant snake with a long, toothy muzzle reared over them, its mouth gaping wide and it’s eyes shining as it stared down at them. It’s body undulated wildly like a river in a storm, and only then did Daeron realize it was water, as though the stream they’d passed earlier had come alive.
“Release her, Ilvitre.” Its voice boomed in Daeron’s head, strong and deep. He was reminded of the ocean waves Tika had described to him once long ago.
The stranger holding Tika stilled, his expression blank as he stared up at the serpent blotting out the sun. “So you finally make your appearance.” His talons grew again, and Tika’s eyes widened in shock. She tried to pull away and then froze as he dug his claws into her cheek, and only Eon’s hand on Daeron’s arm stopped him from rushing to them. He tossed the rocks he held and then nodded at Nasheer, and Daeron nodded. A plan, they had to make a plan. Rushing in like an idiot wouldn’t help.
“You need not do this, Ilvitre. Release her and come home.”
“Stop calling me that!” The wind picked up again, and the snake wavered in the sky as large swathes of water fell from its body. Daeron forced himself through the winds at Nasheer's insistent nod, Eon beside him and the older man across the way. They stopped as soon as the boy—Ilvtire? Aodre?—glanced back at them, his eyes dark once again.
“We just want to help you!” Erain called through the gale, her hair whipping around her in a flurry of white.
“You don’t,” he replied, and the wind died as quickly as it began. He looked at Tika again, but there was no softness in his gaze this time. “Can you tell me, Veilien, Ashieva; when was the last time you bothered to even meet your child? Can you even remember their names?”
The serpent stared at him, its eyes narrowed. “What are you playing at, Ilvitre?”
“Have you ever bothered to care, or have they always been nothing more than a tool to you?” He shifted his gaze to Erain. “Do you even remember how to feel?”
“Aodre…”
“Tell me, Veilien,” he said, turning away from Erain. “Have you felt your child die?”
The serpent hissed. “We have all lost children, Ilvitre. What are you—“
“No! You can’t lose something you never cared about in the first place!” He looked back at Erain, his dark eyes wide and pleading and crazed. “Were you there? Did you hold her as she died?”
Erain looked stricken.
He looked back at the snake. “Answer me!”
The serpent—Veilien—was silent a long while. When his voice next echoed in Daeron’s head it was soft, pained. “No.”
Ilvitre’s dark eyes flashed green for a moment, and Daeron felt his stomach bottom out as those dark eyes focused on Tika. “Maybe you should.”
The world narrowed around Daeron, his entire being focused solely on his friend and her captor. He vaguely heard Nasheer screaming “No!” and was that Eon’s hand on his arm? It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except Tika and the stranger. She caught his gaze and then threw her head back--too slow, why was everything so slow? The back of her head smashed into Ilvitre’s face right before Daeron reached them, and then the world spun as all three of them crashed to the ground. Through the haze he heard Tika scream.
The world snapped back as he met Ilvitre’s eyes, the sound rushing in to deafen him in the split second before Daeron was hurled away in a gust of wind so powerful it sent him flying.
He landed on his back fifteen feet away and gasped as the air rushed from his lungs and something in his side snapped. He just barely caught sight of giant wings extending into the air from within the gale where Ilvitre once stood, and then everything went black.
