NaNo Excerpt of the Day - 2
Nov. 3rd, 2011 12:45 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zenelly(And again, I really mean: THE SHIT I WROTE TODAY)
Today's Word Count: 1515
Total Word Count: 3334
Right at the edge of the goal of the day.
Title: Symphony of Metal and Trees
Summary: I'll let you know about that when I figure it out.
Things You Should Probably Know: Calais' name isn't pronounced like the French city of Calais (pronounced Cal-ay, as per French rules of dropping half the vowels and making up everything else). It is pronounced "Kah-LAY-is", and Syres is "SEAR-ez", in case you need to know. The city Filatsehren is "FEE-lat-SER-in". And no, I haven't spent too long on this, what are you talking about.
* * * * * *
Chapter 1a (for now. I can rearrange it as much as I like later)
* * * * * *
Calais slowly steps through the grass, ignoring the dampness that clings to his bare feet, chilling them as he continues moving. The night is bright with a full moon, and he picks his way easily towards the large depression in front of him, the noises from the bright city fading as he gets closer. Taking a moment to look around, Calais halts his steps at the lip of the depression, slight frame leaning with the wind.
Moonlight reflects down on the grass, glistening silver against the dew that is just starting to form. There are few noises echoing through the night, the low hum of the city on the other side of the wall, the crash of waves on the sand, the susurrus of wind. The brightness of the city doesn't reach this far, and Calais' eyes are quick to adjust, surveying the concave hollow before him.
Large columns with carved designs tower out of the hollowed area, and exquisite stained-glass windows stretch between them, three windows on each side. One for each element. Their colors are muted by the moonlight, but Calais closes his eyes and remembers how bright they are during the sunrise ceremonies, how the colors spread and cover and warm the people below. At the far end of the amphitheater-shaped hollow sits a stage, also adorned with columns and carvings. Calais cautiously steps into the depression, and, when no one immediately yells at him, hurries down the carefully carved steps before he is caught, the soft slaps of his feet echoing the further down he gets.
He passes the Water and Air windows first and he stops for them momentarily, only taking brief glances at their beautiful and subtle swirling patterns and shapes. As he continues down the steps, his limbs tremor slightly, the muscles going weak and lax; Calais pauses long enough to breathe deeply and try to slow the shaking. He is only partially successful, but he can't afford to remain still. The Death and Light windows' looming shapes send a small shiver through him as he passes them. These aren't his elements, and the residual energies resting in them make him feel unbalanced. He simply bows his head in deference and keeps moving.
But by the time he reaches the Fire and Earth windows, that brief moment of meditation cannot hold back the shakes anymore. Calais stumbles to the Earth pillars before collapsing by them, breathing harsh and shaking uncontrollably. Slowly, he curls up, hugging his knees to his chest as the first of the sobs breaks through, silent and wracking.
He almost died today.
He can still feel the arrow graze his neck.
(He can still hear the mocking voice in his head telling him, but -no, not now.)
Calais presses his hand to the side of his neck where the bandage is, feels the slight and sudden ache of the cut under his palm. He's alive. He's safe. But he can feel the blood running down his neck, can feel the terrified beating of his heart, knows with a terrible certainty that he could have died right there. In the middle of a completely controlled test. And there was nothing he could have done. He clenches his eyes shut, bows his head into his legs, letting go of the bandage to wrap his arms around his legs.
The rocks around him begin to tremble, grinding together, and Calais desperately forces his mind and will to relax before he accidentally breaks something. Several tense seconds pass. With a groan, the earth subsides.
For a moment, the only noise is Calais' tense breathing.
Tap.
Tap tap.
There are echoes of footsteps, the pacing irregular, like someone is weaving back and forth. Looking for something in the temple.
Looking for him.
(Calais keeps his head down and body tightly curled. He doesn't want to get in trouble for being in the temple after dark.)
"Calais?"
He jerks his head up, looking around the amphitheater for the familiar voice. Calais opens his mouth to answer but no sound come out. Swallowing painfully, he tries again, voice harsh and scraping. "H-Here, Syr."
A pale-haired head pops up over one of the rows of seats near Light's window, and even in the dim, monochromatic light, Calais can see Syres' smile, a bright flash of teeth, as the lanky young man runs over. He slows as he gets nearer, the loud, resounding echoes of his footfalls fading slowly until the only sound is the tap-tap-tap of his feet and the soft rush of fabric as he plops down next to Calais. Dark eyes that Calais knows are green in daylight study him. "I'd ask if you were okay," Syres murmurs, and there is a lilt of quiet humor in his voice, "but I think that the question is kinda obvious, right?"
Calais lets Syres lean into him and he leans back, greedily taking in the warmth offered by the blond. After a short silence, Calais nods. "I'm not... exactly okay. I mean...." He falls silent, unsure of how to go on.
"I thought you were going to die," Syres admits quietly when it becomes clear that Calais isn't going to say more, and for the first time, Calais' trembling slows enough for him to feel Syres'. "Really, I did. I was so scared. And then you turned all... dusty and stuff. And got us out of there. And you're okay." He lets out a shuddering breath that Calais can feel in his bones. "Yuchailich, you're not allowed to leave me alone in this world."
With a small sigh, Calais turns his head into Syres' shoulder and rasps out, "I don't plan on it, yuchailich. You're my twin. We're in this together, remember?" He waits for Syres' jerky nod before continuing on. "How are Kain and Nickolai?"
"Kain's angry. He set fire to the wall outside Haleh's office, but, luckily for him, he didn't make it burn hot enough to do any real damage. Nickolai went out for a ride on his Leviboard to cool off and really, we haven't seen him since. But Niel spotted him coming back in maybe two hours ago, so he did make it back into the city. He's probably in a meditation garden somewhere." Calais' twin laughs, rests his cheek on Calais' dark hair. "Haleh has to fix security on the testing chambers now, which is probably a good thing. Mancers are a curious lot. Fucking assassination attempts."
"I had hoped ...." Calais can't force any more words out, but Syres nods in the darkness next to him, outlined in silvery light.
"Yeah, I know. I thought they were over once we came here too. Seems Filatsehren isn't safe either."
"I just don't understand how they got on the island," Calais admits quietly, looking around the amphitheater, the grey columns of stone seeming impenetrable in the dark. "Hydras aren't exactly known for their ease of trust."
Syres lets out an agreeing breath and the two stay silent. The amphitheater is imbued with tranquility, even the rushing noises of waves and surf fading to background noise, and slowly, Calais closes his eyes and reaches for the steady pulse he's always felt inside his bones. It suffuses his body with rock-steadiness, easing the tremors that still wrack his body, beating a regular tempo. Calais lets his breathing mimic its slow pace, counting them out until his heart reaches the same measure of calm that fills the temple. His hands relax, and Calais hadn't realized how painfully clenched they were until his tendons creak.
(There is a small, condescending laugh in the back of his mind that Calais shoves down beneath the pulse of magic. He doesn't need to worry about what he did just yet, but there is an echo of soon, soon that he can't ignore.)
Beside him, Syres shifts with a groan, pulling away from Calais and standing stiffly. "Man, that stone is hard as hell." He twists to pop his back before holding out his hand to his twin. "Time to go in, 'lais. Even you need sleep. Especially after today."
Calais nods and grabs the proffered hand, letting out his own moan of pain when his muscles protest the shift in position. Staggering into his twin, he waits until the aches fade before starting the slow walk back out of the temple. Ruddy glowing light spills from behind him, casting large shadows on the steps before Calais, and Syres jogs up beside him, a tight ball of shifting and cracked lava suspended over his palm, casting steady light through the deserted temple. Calais raises an eyebrow at him. With a grin and a shrug, Syres says, "Hey, gotta practice that control thing sometime. I'm not as good at it as you are."
The twins go up the stairs in silence, lit by the lava-ball and the moon above, leaving the magic-infused temple behind as they head back into the brightly lit city of Filatsehren. Back into the chaos and uncertainty of being a young Mancer in the Academy.
Calais keeps the serenity with him.
* * * * * *
I don't know if that will actually start the story proper, or if that'll just be somewhere in there. I'll figure it out later.
Today's Word Count: 1515
Total Word Count: 3334
Right at the edge of the goal of the day.
Title: Symphony of Metal and Trees
Summary: I'll let you know about that when I figure it out.
Things You Should Probably Know: Calais' name isn't pronounced like the French city of Calais (pronounced Cal-ay, as per French rules of dropping half the vowels and making up everything else). It is pronounced "Kah-LAY-is", and Syres is "SEAR-ez", in case you need to know. The city Filatsehren is "FEE-lat-SER-in". And no, I haven't spent too long on this, what are you talking about.
* * * * * *
Chapter 1a (for now. I can rearrange it as much as I like later)
* * * * * *
Calais slowly steps through the grass, ignoring the dampness that clings to his bare feet, chilling them as he continues moving. The night is bright with a full moon, and he picks his way easily towards the large depression in front of him, the noises from the bright city fading as he gets closer. Taking a moment to look around, Calais halts his steps at the lip of the depression, slight frame leaning with the wind.
Moonlight reflects down on the grass, glistening silver against the dew that is just starting to form. There are few noises echoing through the night, the low hum of the city on the other side of the wall, the crash of waves on the sand, the susurrus of wind. The brightness of the city doesn't reach this far, and Calais' eyes are quick to adjust, surveying the concave hollow before him.
Large columns with carved designs tower out of the hollowed area, and exquisite stained-glass windows stretch between them, three windows on each side. One for each element. Their colors are muted by the moonlight, but Calais closes his eyes and remembers how bright they are during the sunrise ceremonies, how the colors spread and cover and warm the people below. At the far end of the amphitheater-shaped hollow sits a stage, also adorned with columns and carvings. Calais cautiously steps into the depression, and, when no one immediately yells at him, hurries down the carefully carved steps before he is caught, the soft slaps of his feet echoing the further down he gets.
He passes the Water and Air windows first and he stops for them momentarily, only taking brief glances at their beautiful and subtle swirling patterns and shapes. As he continues down the steps, his limbs tremor slightly, the muscles going weak and lax; Calais pauses long enough to breathe deeply and try to slow the shaking. He is only partially successful, but he can't afford to remain still. The Death and Light windows' looming shapes send a small shiver through him as he passes them. These aren't his elements, and the residual energies resting in them make him feel unbalanced. He simply bows his head in deference and keeps moving.
But by the time he reaches the Fire and Earth windows, that brief moment of meditation cannot hold back the shakes anymore. Calais stumbles to the Earth pillars before collapsing by them, breathing harsh and shaking uncontrollably. Slowly, he curls up, hugging his knees to his chest as the first of the sobs breaks through, silent and wracking.
He almost died today.
He can still feel the arrow graze his neck.
(He can still hear the mocking voice in his head telling him, but -no, not now.)
Calais presses his hand to the side of his neck where the bandage is, feels the slight and sudden ache of the cut under his palm. He's alive. He's safe. But he can feel the blood running down his neck, can feel the terrified beating of his heart, knows with a terrible certainty that he could have died right there. In the middle of a completely controlled test. And there was nothing he could have done. He clenches his eyes shut, bows his head into his legs, letting go of the bandage to wrap his arms around his legs.
The rocks around him begin to tremble, grinding together, and Calais desperately forces his mind and will to relax before he accidentally breaks something. Several tense seconds pass. With a groan, the earth subsides.
For a moment, the only noise is Calais' tense breathing.
Tap.
Tap tap.
There are echoes of footsteps, the pacing irregular, like someone is weaving back and forth. Looking for something in the temple.
Looking for him.
(Calais keeps his head down and body tightly curled. He doesn't want to get in trouble for being in the temple after dark.)
"Calais?"
He jerks his head up, looking around the amphitheater for the familiar voice. Calais opens his mouth to answer but no sound come out. Swallowing painfully, he tries again, voice harsh and scraping. "H-Here, Syr."
A pale-haired head pops up over one of the rows of seats near Light's window, and even in the dim, monochromatic light, Calais can see Syres' smile, a bright flash of teeth, as the lanky young man runs over. He slows as he gets nearer, the loud, resounding echoes of his footfalls fading slowly until the only sound is the tap-tap-tap of his feet and the soft rush of fabric as he plops down next to Calais. Dark eyes that Calais knows are green in daylight study him. "I'd ask if you were okay," Syres murmurs, and there is a lilt of quiet humor in his voice, "but I think that the question is kinda obvious, right?"
Calais lets Syres lean into him and he leans back, greedily taking in the warmth offered by the blond. After a short silence, Calais nods. "I'm not... exactly okay. I mean...." He falls silent, unsure of how to go on.
"I thought you were going to die," Syres admits quietly when it becomes clear that Calais isn't going to say more, and for the first time, Calais' trembling slows enough for him to feel Syres'. "Really, I did. I was so scared. And then you turned all... dusty and stuff. And got us out of there. And you're okay." He lets out a shuddering breath that Calais can feel in his bones. "Yuchailich, you're not allowed to leave me alone in this world."
With a small sigh, Calais turns his head into Syres' shoulder and rasps out, "I don't plan on it, yuchailich. You're my twin. We're in this together, remember?" He waits for Syres' jerky nod before continuing on. "How are Kain and Nickolai?"
"Kain's angry. He set fire to the wall outside Haleh's office, but, luckily for him, he didn't make it burn hot enough to do any real damage. Nickolai went out for a ride on his Leviboard to cool off and really, we haven't seen him since. But Niel spotted him coming back in maybe two hours ago, so he did make it back into the city. He's probably in a meditation garden somewhere." Calais' twin laughs, rests his cheek on Calais' dark hair. "Haleh has to fix security on the testing chambers now, which is probably a good thing. Mancers are a curious lot. Fucking assassination attempts."
"I had hoped ...." Calais can't force any more words out, but Syres nods in the darkness next to him, outlined in silvery light.
"Yeah, I know. I thought they were over once we came here too. Seems Filatsehren isn't safe either."
"I just don't understand how they got on the island," Calais admits quietly, looking around the amphitheater, the grey columns of stone seeming impenetrable in the dark. "Hydras aren't exactly known for their ease of trust."
Syres lets out an agreeing breath and the two stay silent. The amphitheater is imbued with tranquility, even the rushing noises of waves and surf fading to background noise, and slowly, Calais closes his eyes and reaches for the steady pulse he's always felt inside his bones. It suffuses his body with rock-steadiness, easing the tremors that still wrack his body, beating a regular tempo. Calais lets his breathing mimic its slow pace, counting them out until his heart reaches the same measure of calm that fills the temple. His hands relax, and Calais hadn't realized how painfully clenched they were until his tendons creak.
(There is a small, condescending laugh in the back of his mind that Calais shoves down beneath the pulse of magic. He doesn't need to worry about what he did just yet, but there is an echo of soon, soon that he can't ignore.)
Beside him, Syres shifts with a groan, pulling away from Calais and standing stiffly. "Man, that stone is hard as hell." He twists to pop his back before holding out his hand to his twin. "Time to go in, 'lais. Even you need sleep. Especially after today."
Calais nods and grabs the proffered hand, letting out his own moan of pain when his muscles protest the shift in position. Staggering into his twin, he waits until the aches fade before starting the slow walk back out of the temple. Ruddy glowing light spills from behind him, casting large shadows on the steps before Calais, and Syres jogs up beside him, a tight ball of shifting and cracked lava suspended over his palm, casting steady light through the deserted temple. Calais raises an eyebrow at him. With a grin and a shrug, Syres says, "Hey, gotta practice that control thing sometime. I'm not as good at it as you are."
The twins go up the stairs in silence, lit by the lava-ball and the moon above, leaving the magic-infused temple behind as they head back into the brightly lit city of Filatsehren. Back into the chaos and uncertainty of being a young Mancer in the Academy.
Calais keeps the serenity with him.
* * * * * *
I don't know if that will actually start the story proper, or if that'll just be somewhere in there. I'll figure it out later.
