a/n: hey, thanks for checking out Starry Veins! This is the novel I
wrote for Round V of LMS, and it's still a first draft! While I don't
discourage any feedback, I prefer not to receive feedback on grammar!
I'm not polishing this draft up yet, so I'm not as concerned about
editing. I am, of course, open to all feedback, but I ask that you keep
this in consideration! Thanks <3
*
[Ember]
She
had only been to Lady Sylvania’s house thrice before, but she knew
the route like she knew the halls of the Citadel. Her breath was
coming fast and hard by the time she found the squat cottage at the
edge of the village, with the weathered teal door and dead flower
bushes hanging from the windowsill. The window that looked into the
sitting room was open, and the smell of baked cherry hung on the air.
Her
shoes clacked against the stones that made the path up to the door,
and she rapped her fist hard enough to make sure it was heard through
the house. Sylvania nor Elsie had good hearing anymore.
The
door swung open after a few moments. Sylvania peered down at her,
nodded, and then stepped aside. “Inside,” she said, as if this
was a planned visit and not spur of the moment at all. “Take your
grubby boots off. This isn’t a stable.”
Ember
wordlessly complied, setting her shoes and socks aside and followed
Sylvania into the sitting room. The old ivory floor was covered by an
ornamental rug. Elsie had told her it had come all the way from
Summermount. It glittered when the sun hit it right. Sylvania said it
was its own source of light in Summermount, under the constant
vigilance of the sun.
Veins
of magic-dust filled hoses ran up the walls and snaked across the
ceiling, lighting up the room with a light spell. Sitting on a giant
cushion near the window, next to the fireplace, was Risto, the
village spellweaver. They looked to be in a trance, eyes shut. Their
veins were dark and pulsing, the signature of their casting.
“Elsie’s
made a cherry pie and we’ve got tea on. Have you eaten today?”
Sylvania asked, eyeing her sceptically as if able to tell her
condition if she peered hard enough.
She’d
had breakfast already, but cherry pie? “If I say yes, can I still
have a slice of pie?”
Lady
Sylvania smiled. “As if I would refuse you. Elsie! Eugenia’s
here!” She hobbled off into the kitchen, silver braid swinging
across her broad shoulders.
“Little
flame!” Elsie shrilled from the kitchen and came into the sitting
room as a speed that was uncanny for the old joints she always
complained about. She swooped Ember into a bundle of limbs and Ember
had to catch her, so she didn’t fall over. “It’s been months!”
“Yeah,”
she said, all the fight leaving her at once. “I should have come
sooner. With the expedition leaving, and Isadora and Mishal…” She
frowned.
Elsie
patted her arm and nodded, face twisting sympathetically. “That
must have been hard on you.” Then she smiled and turned back
towards the kitchen, blonde strands of hair that were nearly white
bobbing around her ears. “Pie will fix you right up, yes? And tea!
You’ll need some tea. Maybe Rizzy will even spare us some good news
about clear skies ahead, hm? Yes.”
She
found herself not five minutes later ushered onto one of the cushions
on the floor, with a tray beside her that held a wooden carved mug
full of tea that smelled of liquorice, and a similarly designed plate
that had copper leaf designs engraved along the edges with a piece of
pie on it.
“Something’s
troubling you,” Sylvania said, sitting on a higher cushioned
armchair across the floor from her. “What’s on your mind?”
Elsie,
from her place snuggled beside Sylvania, watched her like a hawk as
she scooped bites of pie happily into her mouth.
Something
dropped into her stomach. Heavy. Like lead. She sipped some of her
steaming tea. It was pleasantly hot in her mouth.
“It’s
too hot to—” Elsie tried to warn her and then stopped with a
wince. “Goodness, flame, you’ll burn yourself.”
She
set the tea down. It was warm against her fingers. “It’s not hot
enough,” she said, distracted. Elsie frowned, but she glanced
towards the window and ignored it. “What’ll happen to a kingdom
that loses its trueblood heir?”
Ori
had already explained, but she needed to hear it from someone else.
Someone who knew everything already. Someone older, who had
experience.
“They
say the kingdoms fall, when they lose their trueblood rulers,”
Sylvania explained. “Some of the monarchs right now have distant
cousins, but they’ve all only had a single child as of now. Except
the Divine Kingdom.”
She
turned back towards Lady Sylvania. “The Divine Kingdom?” She’d
never heard of the Divine Kingdom.
“It’s
the old name for Glacier’s Keep,” Elsie explained, patting
Sylvania’s arm. “She’s just a pipsqueak, love, you can’t use
names old enough to be fossilised.”
“You’re
old enough to be fossilised,” Sylvania grumbled.
Questions
filled her mind like a water faucet to a cup, and she took a
thoughtful bite of her pie. How did she ask? Did Sylvania and Elsie
know what had happened to the trueblooded heirs? What happened with
Glacier’s Keep? The way Sylvania had worded it, they
say the kingdoms fall,
did she not believe that?
And
then Risto gasped, eyes flying open. They were dark, a stormy grey
that spread through their sclera and made their irises look black.
They sucked in several deep breaths.
“Tea
for them,” Sylvania said.
Ember
sprang to her feet and raced to the kitchen for a mug of tea. She
dished out a slice of pie, for good measure. Cassius always said
magic made him hungry.
When
she offered the slice of pie to Risto, they took it with shaking
hands and nodded to her without ever truly looking towards her.
They’re eyes were still dark, glassy, and unfocused. Their dark
brow was furrow deeply, and they ran a hand through their wiry,
frazzled hair.
“Well?”
Elsie prompted. “Storms in the future? Shall we batten down the
hatches in the coming days?”
Risto
stared at their pale hands and rubbed them, as if the feeling had
been lost to their fingers. “I saw ash.”
She
sat down, folding her legs to her chest. “Ash? What’ddya mean?”
They
looked immensely troubled, fidgeting on their cushion. “Yes. I felt
an oncoming warmth, smelled the freshness of clear, cloudless days
ahead, tasted the sweetness of rain on the air and… and I saw ash.
I saw ash falling from the sky, and smoke billowing to the sky, to
the stars.”
From
the corner of her eyes, she saw Sylvania and Elsie exchange a glance.
“But
it doesn’t rain ash,” she said with a snort. Unease curled in her
belly.
Risto
met her eyes for a moment, and only a moment. Something pale and grey
passed through them. Then they turned to stare out the window, at the
clear sky above.
“No,”
they agreed, voice low and wisplike. “No, it does not.”
word count:
1,131
Points: 26590
Reviews: 299
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