31 December 2010

The Wall

 Title: The Wall
Author: Lewis
Writing: Short story
Words: 250

There's a bit of finesse that must go with walking Norm's streets. Over the slow arc of the Skral Bridge there's a flat stretch of pavement where the street vendors line their carts like soldiers readying themselves for battle (a term oddly appropriate for the afternoon rush), and further down, the path stops neatly at the tall hedges of a labyrinth of a garden. If you ask the policeman how to get through he will advise you to walk straight into the hedge. If you reexamine the hedge you'll find a stone wall behind it. Upon returning to the policeman who so kindly spoke with you earlier, you will be told that the hedge and the stone wall are simply illusions, and if you just ignore them you should be able to enter the garden. The illusions, he says, are precautions for the common people who are not meant to enter the garden. You, sir or madam, are. Meant to see the garden, he amends. So do go ahead now, and proceed. So. If you still hold faith in your (very legitimate) copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, you will take one breath of (smoke-filled, cough-inducing) invigorating air and walk straight into the hedge. And, well. You didn't see this coming at all.


When you get a faceful of leaves and thorns and a sorely bruised nose, it doesn't surprise you that the policeman is rolling around on the lawn in some kind of epileptic seizure of laughter.

Artist's note: I know that the policeman is crazy, and that I'm not very funny when I'm trying to be. this is just a really bad idea I decided to let run for several feet.

30 December 2010

Returning Home

Title: Returning Home
Author: SilverInk
Writing: Short Story (Excerpt?)/ to-be-continued?
Word Count: 849



Alina Zephyr was still. Despite the time, her room had remained untouched. Her parents hadn’t altered anything after she’d been banished from Bryka Fields and made an Object of Holena. Five years ago. It seemed so long now, but it was only five years. Two since the Ferrezin tournament and the last time she’d been on the planet of Idyllen. 
One by one she pulled the covers off, unveiling her old desk, her old bed, her old dresser-closet, and her old doll rack. A moment of silence enveloped the house as she stared at her bunny-doll collection. 
"I know," she said quietly, so softly it might have been nonexistent. "I am sorry too. But we are leaving now....I do not know....yes. Come on." she raised her hands, and pushed them together, gathering all the rabbits in one sweep and shrinking them into little charms that she attached to a chain she created. This charm necklace she slipped away into the black pack on her thigh. "We are going back to Edihn after this," she answered an unheard question as she began to pack up the other items in the room into the black energy spheres. 
"Yes, I am sure Lady Holena will allow me to keep you in my room." She giggled and for a moment all signs of the 18-year-old energy pool melted away and she was an innocent 13-year-old child again. Only the moving tattoo on her face betrayed the power within her.
She continued to each room cheerfully, picking the things she wanted to keep and leaving the rest untouched. "It is large too....of course we all get rooms of our own....it really is a sort of paradise up there. Aside from fighting the Pains, of course, but it is eden besides that. All the food we can eat, all the luxuries, entertainment. It is not quite as bad as people here portray." 
She finished scouring the second floor and unlocked the trapdoor to the attic. The small attic had used to be her little escape whenever he mother yelled at her. She remembered the boxes of baby clothes and baby books up there, and the little hammock she had made. She floated up into it now, with no need for the frayed rope ladder. 
"Fighting Pains is harder than fighting here," she replied ominously. "Brutal all-out murder. Anything to survive another day," she continued, ducking her head and entrapping the boxes in black energy spheres before lowering them to the ground  below safely. 
"Anything to defend yourself from the Pains. Because they will do anything they want. Rape. Slaughter. Mutilation. Every day, the same routine. Go out there and beat the life out of everything that moves, then return to Holena's Haven to rest and enjoy yourself."
Everything was now away and she swept the dusty rug to the ground as well, deciding it might as well be moved to her room on Edihn. She gave everything a cursory  glance before zeroing in on the false panel that had been underneath the rug. "Never knew this was here," she noted, reflecting on the many hours she had spent cooped up in this little room. With a thin ribbon of pure energy she unlocked the panel and looked inside. 
There was a picture of a little girl, around five, with dark brown hair, slightly curled and very silky. The girl's hazel eyes were wide, open in innocence and delight. Alina stroked her own blonde--almost white--hair and tried to impose her small blue eyes over the picture. It clashed. 
"Who is this? Was there another child?....No? Who is this then?" she asked. She stroked the silver necklace and charm the girl in the picture wore and examined the cute frilly dress. Nothing was familiar.
"Strange," she murmured and set the picture aside and dug up the second and last object in the secret vault: a rectangular rosewood case with an ornate clasp. She opened it to find a bloody dagger resting on a satin cover. Looped around the dagger was the silver necklace the girl in the picture wore, and on the inside cover was a collection of small clippings and photos. They showed the same little girl from the picture, only dead, mutilated and murdered by a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes. Almost just like Alina. 
“But I have only killed Pains…and I do not mutilate my victims….” She skimmed through various photos of the murder scene and finally arrived at a short newspaper clipping from 13 years ago.
"Youth mutilated and murdered by escaped convict," read the headline. Alina balked at this and turned to the charms hanging out her bag. “I have never been arrested though; how was I a convict? ” she snapped her fingers and created a small ball of light energy that hovered close to the newspaper as she scrutinized the story for answers.
"Five year old Alina Zephyr was mutilated and killed by escaped national convict 19 Delin Al Era in the temple sanctum...."

Artist's Note: So I was looking at the archive on DiW and thought I was missing a few posts, so I found something from a few weeks ago to post...consider it an Angelmas present? >.<

I refer you to "Lucidity" by Lewis. :D. This post refers to that incident >:)

And I have transferred the picture's link to this post: 
 Picture of her on TegakiE . Mini-preview here!: AddaEllis on Tegaki EYap! Comment on both please :D

What else...I will be continuing to write about the Chosen Three in January. Haha. 

So yea! Happy New Year's EVE! And HAPPY NEW YEAR!
~SilverInk

29 December 2010

Jacks 2

Title: Jacks 2
Author: Lewis Spiel
Writing: multipart
Word count: 607

4.

Llyr raised a hand in greeting. “Yo.”
“Hey.” Adrian sat up and nodded at him. “Private lessons now? I see you’re hardly slacking off on your training programme.”
“You know him?” Helena queried, throwing Adrian a curious look. “How?”
“Morning cleaning duty.”
“Ah.”
“We all know how that works,” sniggered Sam.
Adrian flicked a crumpled piece of notebook paper in his direction. “Helena, Sam, and I all have several hours of free time at this time of the day. You can study if you’d like. I’m proposing a Cops and Robbers game in the hallway.”
Llyr had already set down his bag on a nearby desk and begun rifling through it. “I’ll study. Cops and Robbers sounds great, but....”
Helena snorted and flopped herself into a chair next to Llyr’s. “I told you so, Adrian. No one else likes to go gallivanting in the school hallways in this day and age.”
“Whatever.” By now Adrian had opened his laptop again and opened the Internet browser home page. There was something about a shooting at the local supermarket on the most recent news, but nothing else of note besides. He supposed that there was nothing else he could expect from a town of hicks.

--
His expression was unreadable as always, but his lack of response was answer enough.
“I’m right, aren’t I.” Adrian shoved his chair back and stood. “You’re letting go of it even though it’s partly your fault? I see how it is now.”
“Do you, really? Have you asked Helena?”
“How could you even say that? After what you did-”

5.

“-are you guys going to give up on this one?” Llyr was standing over Adrian’s shoulder, blinking confusedly at the half-finished crossword puzzle. “Looks like a pain.”
“A pain in the ass, all right.” Sam grumbled. “What’s another word for ‘water nymph?’ I’ll bet that half these answers are made up.”
Adrian rolled his eyes. “Let’s try another one. Uh, ‘one who eats babies.’”
“There’s a word for that?”
“What about... brephophagist.”
“Are you sure you didn’t make that one up just now?”
“Oh, hey. It fits. Lucky guess, Llyr?”
“Wonder of wonders.”
“Haha, yea, probably.”
“Try this one, then. ‘A device for cleaning chimneys.'"
"That's so inane-"
"Scandiscope."
The three others stared at Llyr in amazement.
"A real nerd, that's what you are. Shall we have you do my homework, now?" Helena nudged his shoulder gaily.
Llyr shrugged helplessly. "Dumb luck. Not sure if I can help, but I'll try."
Adrian watched as Sam and Helena crowded around Llyr's desk, all but pestering him with questions. Somehow he didn't feel too enthusiastic about finishing the crossword anymore.

6.

"Llyr's so nice," Helena gushed. "And smart. He's just transferred to this school, and yet he knew every single answer to each of the questions on my homework today!"
"Serious?"
"Yea." She sighed dreamily and elbowed Adrian in the side. "Is that all you have to say? Maybe you should get some lessons from him, Adrian. It'd do wonders for your attitude."
"I'm fine, I don't need any help." Adrian's brow furrowed as he peered down the lunch line. "Looks like they've run out of fries. Where's Sam, anyhow?"
"He's having Llyr critique his script."
Adrian paused and turned to shoot her a curious (not hurt) glance. "We could've done that."
"Yea, but he wanted a little more outside opinion, you know? We might add Llyr into the script. It'd be nice if we had more people in the skit."
"Yea."
The line of people shuffled forward a couple of steps, and Adrian cut off the conversation, utterly engrossed in picking out the second best lunch set.

Piano Playing

Title: Piano Playing
Author: SilverInk
Writing: short-short story thing, started at different times
Word count: 320+475+525= 1320


Practicing------------------------------


“Storm, listen to this!” Ever Blaize called to her mother gleefully. She pressed a carefully chosen chord on the piano and began a sweet little melody with the other hand. She could not remember it all and it was short to begin with, so she ceased her playing after only a few measures. “Was that any good?”
Storm Blaize looked up from where she had been sketching interior design models and listened. “What’re you trying to play?”
“That song Aunt Sonora was playing at the mid-summer banquet,” Ever replied. She replayed the tune without the supporting hand and frowned. Something was still off.
“Which one?”
“The really short one at the end,” she replied. She turned around and dipped a quill into ink and made another note on the music paper. 
“The one for your friend Mr. Wyn,” Storm laughed, not surprised that her daughter had picked up specific interest on that particular song of all the pieces played that night. “Auris’s theme,” she murmured to herself before taking a seat next to Ever on the bench. She played what Ever had already had down and added a few notes. She laughed when Ever frowned. “That’s all the fun in learning an instrument, I suppose!” she said.
“And may I inquire what you ladies are up to?”
Storm turned around and threw a handy projectile—a wayward slipper—at her husband. 
“Halt,” he said, holding up a hand and the slipper stopped in midair before falling into his hand. “Messing around with the piano, I see,” he said, answering his own question. He ruffled Ever’s hair to her evident distaste and pressed a few random notes on the piano.
“Hey!” Ever exclaimed, more so in epiphany than in irritation. “That could work!” She played what she had figured out and added the few notes August had played. She beamed and marked it on her paper. “Good job dad!”
---
Before the Competition--------------------------------



“Wyntir?” August Flood called out to his brother. Ever looked away from Auris Wyn for a moment. 
“Dad? What happened?”
“Your uncle’s cooking dinner and I think he burned something,” August replied with a chuckle. He patted his wife’s hand and disappeared into the kitchen. 
“Wyntir cooks now,” Ever’s mother, Storm Blaize, noted. She was talking to Sonora Lee, her best friend and Auris’s mother—creator really.
“Tell me son,” Sonora said, emphasizing the last word and watching him cringe slightly before looking towards her. “Does Wyntir usually cook?”
“He does, ma’m,” Auris replied evenly. 
“Don’t torture him tonight, Sonora,” Storm cautioned. 
“I’m sorry,” she said, and the evil intent faded out of her eyes and tone. She smiled smoothly and it was no longer a smirk. “It won’t happen again.”
“We’ll not bother them for now,” Storm said and left the children to their talk. 
“Go on? Tell me about Storm,” Ever urged her friend. 
Auris was confused for only a moment and resumed telling Ever about his and Wyntir’s stay on the second-smalled moon of Idyllen. 
August returned soon, a basket of bread in one hand and his mouth full. He set the bread on the table and took his seat next to his wife again. “Wyntir seems to know what he’s doing,” he said after swallowing. Storm and Sonora nodded pleasantly and the former took a piece of bread for herself. 
Wyntir soon came out of the kitchen. He took the only open seat—next to Sonora— and grabbed a crust of bread. “It’s cooking,” he said. “Who plays the piano?” he pointed to the black piano in the corner of the adjoining room. 
“Storm and Ever,” August replied easily. 
“Really?” Wyntir said, eyeing the instrument. He stood and ambled over to it and the adults followed him. 
“For fun,” Storm explained. “We teach each other to play. August tries. And Sonora comes over sometimes too. ”
“That was expected,” Wyntir laughed. He raised the cover and pressed a few notes. 
“Do you play?” Sonora murmured quietly. She too ran her hand by, and underneath her fingers a smooth scale sounded. She brought her fingers back and a melody danced into the air. Storm chortled and coughed something remarkably like “show-off” to which Sonora just grinned. She turned back to Wyntir. “Do you?”
“I think I’ve touched one before,” he said, now flipping through the sheaf of composition paper resting on the top. Sonora didn’t respond. “What about a contest? Sonora, you obviously don’t count. But I’m interested in my brother’s ability to do something other than read.” He eyed August meaningfully.
“Are you doubting my ability?” August said, puffing his chest out in mock bravado. Wyntir took it seriously. 
“A contest it is then!” He waved his hands dramatically and pulled out the bench. “Presenting Maestro August!”
---
The Competition----------------------------------

Ever Blaize, 11 for a day, pressed her fingers to the piano and played. She hadn't known what song she was going to play, but the moment her fingers touched the key they leapt instinctively towards the notes they favored. She soon recognized the song--it had been the song that her aunt Sonora had been playing the week before. It was a very short piece and Ever couldn't remember all of it anyways, so she ended it quickly with a bit of cute improvisation--a repetition of the beginning of the song and a final chord.
Her small audience clapped politely and Ever smiled embarrasedly before resuming her seat next to  Auris Wyn.
"That was splendid improv," he whispered to her.
"You caught that?"
"I know the song, of course I did," he replied. She nodded. Auris knew almost everything about her, so it didn't bother her significantly. They were best friends, and called each other cousins anyways. They weren't actually cousins, but Auris was Wyntir's student and Wyntir was August's brother and August was Ever's father, so it was close enough, they assumed. Ever would never mention it, but there was another reason too, one that troubled Auris very much--Sonora was technically Auris's creator, and since Sonora and Storm were as close as sisters, they could be considered cousins.
"Your daughter plays better than you," Wyntir was teasing August, who had played before Ever. 
"And I play better than you" the researcher joked back. "Storm? Do you want to go next?"
"Ever stole my song,"  Ever's mother replied, the grin never fading from her face. She got up anyway and played another piece, much more lively and fast-paced than Ever's slow melody.
Everyone clapped and Wyntir was about to tease his brother for being the worst piano player of the people gathered when Sonora pushed him forward. Wyntir did not play well at all but he was a good sport and after a few minutes of laughter he resigned to a very simple child's tune. Everyone cheered as he made a few mock-bows as Auris was encouraged to try the instrument. 
He too tried and failed miserably, although he was able to play something more complicated than Wyntir's children's tune. Finally Sonora stepped forward, and played a combination of all of their songs, earning laughs when she wove Wyntir and Auris's attempts into an intricate piece. The master of improvisation herself stood and accepted the enthusiastic cheers. 
"I think it goes to no surprise that every time we do something musical that Miss Sonora Lee makes us all look like fools," Storm said, punching her friend in the arm. "In good humor though."
She smiled and commented, "I thought Ever's playing was very nice though. You and her have obviously been playing around with the piano. Wyntir on the other hand...." she turned to him with an expression of grave seriousness that everyone laughed at. 
"Consider your ears lucky that I remember where 'do' is," he replied, keeping the joke alive. 
"Let's hope your cooking is better!" August proclaimed and the gathered swept into the dining room enthusiastically. 
Artist's Note: 
HI! :D [dodges tomatoes] So sorry to have completely not posted anything at all within the last fortnight.

The prompt was again from Mrs. Gail Carson Levine's Writing Magic, and was to start a story about a competition from three different points in time: the moment the competition started (I used the moment Ever starts to play), the moment the main character finds out there will be a competition, and when the main character starts to prepare for the competition, which was in this case, before she knew there would be a competition. 
I promise to post more in 2011! Hope everyone had a merry Angelmas and will have a brilliant New Year! :D





23 December 2010

Jacks [sorry for the triplepost]

Title: Jacks
Author: Lewis Spiel
Writing: Multipart story
Word count: 806

1.


“I’d thought you’d be afraid,” Adrian confessed, flattening his palms against the counter. “What made you change your mind?”
The other man stared back at him calmly, unperturbed. “I don’t fear dying. I fear dying and being reborn again to deal with the aftermath of this chaos.”
“That’s a funny way to put it.”
“What else can you call this mess- another ‘technical difficulty?’?”
“You’ve got a point there.” A pause. “Aren’t you still mad about it, though? They’re making you take the fall for it-“
“There’s no one to ‘take the fall for,’ Adrian. They didn’t mean any harm.”
Adrian balled his hands into fists but turned his gaze downward. “Then what- you’re actually okay with it now, as long as you’re not involved?”

2.

The classroom was as dank and empty as Adrian remembered it, but that was probably because he’d been the last person to leave the classroom in the previous school year. In about an hour it would hit daylight and the drapes would need to be raised, the floor swept, and the desks straightened. Such was the duty of the one high school student who actually liked arriving at a time where even the class insomniac wanted to put his head down and close his eyes for a second. Adrian had gotten halfway through aligning each desk parallel to the other when the classroom door slid open with a bang. He cocked an eyebrow at the boy standing in the doorway.
“Morning. What’s gotten you up so early?”
The other boy shrugged, adjusted the shoulder strap of his bag, and scanned the room with disinterested eyes. “The principal wanted to get my records processed before classes started. I’m the only transfer student this year, it seems.”
Adrian shook his head, smiling. “Things move slowly in rural towns like this one, that’s all. Where’re you from?”
“Take a guess.”
“Norm?”
“Got it all in one.”
“Haha. That’s where I’m from, actually.”
“Really? Swell.”
He hesitated before striding forward and offering his hand. “The name’s Adrian. You?”
“Llyr Wakeley.” Llyr gripped it with a slightly clammy hand and shook firmly. “Nice to meet you.”

3.

“What’s shakin’, bacon?” Sam glanced at the computer screen curiously. “It doesn’t look like you’re looking at the news today. Oh. Well.”
“Hush!” Adrian hissed, slamming his laptop shut.
“You have-“Sam broke off in a snort. “I’m going to tell Helena you’re looking at-“
“It’s not funny!”
“Haha, beat by a pop idol of all things? She’s going to love this.”
“I hear my lowly underlings flapping their useless mouths again,” drawled Helena, looming over Adrian’s desk. “What’s this I hear about a pop idol, hmm?”
Adrian averted his eyes and grumbled under his breath lowly.
Helena laughed and draped her arms over his shoulders. “I didn’t hear you, Adrian.”
“I said that she’s the prettiest girl in the world!”
Silence reigned for several seconds before Sam roughly elbowed Helena in the side. “You’re supposed to start weeping.”
“Ow! Hold on, my tear ducts are dry! I can’t just start gushing salt water from my eyes in mere seconds. That was pretty much the last of it after the fifth take.”
Adrian pillowed his head in his arms and slumped against the desk. “I give up.”
“Your script stinks, Sam,” jeered Helena, dropping the playbook onto Adrian’s head.
Sam hastily collected the playbook and clutched it protectively to his chest. “Your face stinks.”
“Your mother stinks.”
“Your hair stinks.”
“Uh. Your car stinks.”
“You did not just go there.”
“I did, too. What are you going to do about it?”
The classroom door slid open with a bang. “Cut it out, children.”
Helena jumped to attention and swept to the front of the classroom, inclining her head respectfully. “Good day, teacher.”
“Well met, Helena. I have the transfer student here; would you do me the favor of watching him for me today? He’d be taking private lessons with me, but I’ve got a meeting to attend.”
“Yes, sir, of course!” Eyes alight, Helena waved him off with a smart salute.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Are you all right? Your eyes are looking a bit red.”
Helena could hear Sam choking as he fought to stifle his laughter. “Sir. There’s nothing to worry about. You should be on your way now.”
As the door slid shut behind the transfer student, she turned on her friend with an enraged yell. “You and your stupid script! I’m going to-“
“Helena.”
“What is it?” She turned to look at Adrian, whose eyes were just barely peering over the shelter of his arms.
“Don’t you think you should be a better example for the transfer student?”
Helena sighed exasperatedly. “All right.”
“Sucker!” shrieked Sam, rocking backwards in his chair and bicycling his feet through the air wildly.
“That means you, too, Sam.”
“Damn.”

--
Artist's note: I think I have totally forgotten rules for formatting, indenting, and etc. in noveling. Not writing anything like these for a long time does that to you. >.>
Anyway, I asked Silver to give me a story idea, and she came up with “I don’t fear dying. I fear dying and being reborn again to deal with the aftermath of this chaos.” (My first thought was Aaang from Avatar: The Last Airbender, where the Avatar is always reborn in order to combat evil and stuff.)
I really meant to finish this story in about a thousand words because that's supposed to be a lot (considering how little I've written in the past), but I felt like I couldn't build as much as I should in the story unless it was longer. So I'll be continuing this by releasing the rest of the story in parts.

Lastly, sorry for those of you who got multiple email notifications when I tried editing and reposting. Hopefully with this the problems have been fixed -__-

Thanks for reading!
~Lewis

22 December 2010

Fanfiction: Him

Title: Him
Author: Lewis
Writing: Digital Devil Saga fanfiction- it's a PS2 game I was fawning over for the past several weeks. But I just recently lost the game, and didn't get to finish it...
Word Count: 514

“What’s He thinking?” Cielo asks suddenly.
“W-what?” Sera looks startled- shocked, even- that someone would ask such a question.
“You’re always talking about how He sent you to us on da mission to help people,” Cielo mumbles, chastised. “If God sent Sera to help us, why even send da Virus to begin with?”
“We already went over this,” snarls Heat. “Some stupid fucking test, that’s all. Did you forget? It was the same even before the Virus. The only difference is that there’s a new way to kill. Can’t say I hate this power, though.” Arms folded, he strokes the flame atma mark with a free thumb. “Anyway, the point is that we need to protect Sera. The Wolves could be at our borders any minute now. Or past them. I’m going to check patrol.”
Brooking no room for argument, he pulls his cape closed around himself and sweeps out of the room.
“What’s gotten into him?” Argilla snipes, eying the open hallway with distaste.
Cielo shrugs, and Sera just turns her eyes back to the window and continues to sing. The unfamiliar tones and language are eerie and just as coldly beautiful as they were the first the Tribe heard them, but the notes today dip and waver.
Argilla listens intently but pretends not to notice the differences. They bring to mind Jinana’s dying face, and the question.
What is sad?
Sera has explained before- many times, at Gale’s prompting- that the song she sings to calm the demons and return them to human state is called a Prayer. It’s a tribute to Him, she says, an entreaty for him to have mercy on the suffering. It becomes clear to the team that although the concept of the existence of an all-powerful being has been firmly ingrained into their minds, there exists no ritual whatsoever in the Junkyard that pays homage of any sort to this God. Cielo suggests that they all try to learn Sera’s Prayer so that everyone can use the skill and somehow win God’s favor, but knows the moment he says it that it won’t work. Sera’s special. “The black haired girl,” or so Angel called her. The key to Nirvana.
He still can’t make sense of why only one person is allowed to Pray, though. Isn’t it a bit unfair?

Serph thinks that maybe Heat is afraid of questioning Sera- especially Sera. The way Heat warms up to her is unusual; it’s the kind of inconsistency Gale would have categorized alongside Argilla’s recent bouts of “sadness.”
Though- after Lupa, Gale has been less often labeling them inconsistencies and seeing them as objects of greater importance. Serph isn’t quite sure if he’s comfortable with Gale’s “awakening;” Gale certainly seems much more motivated to reach Nirvana now, but the nature of the mission feels different now. It’s not reaching Nirvana and a life without war- for Gale, now, it’s to find Lupa’s child and tell him to become “a man of honor.” And though Gale seemed to understand, Serph is still grappling with the meaning of that word- honor.

-----------
Artist's Note: Hi, this is Lewis! Sorry for not posting for so long! I actually haven't written anything for a long while. Haha, as I'm writing this I am procrastinating on a Very Important Homework Assignment. At any rate, I would say that this would be my first ever piece of fanfiction. Yup -__- I didn't provide a lot of background for the stuff I wrote here, and there's not a lot of order to it because I was just spilling little things I was wondering about while playing the game.
I guess I should at least understand that killing someone and eating someone are on different levels of depravity.
Haha, sorry for rambling.
Toodles.
~Lewis

12 December 2010

Eyes: Brown (Part II)

Title: Eyes: Brown (Part II)
Author: SilverInk
Writing: Short Story Excerpt
Word Count: 2513
This is part two of "Eyes: Green". It begins exactly where part one leaves off. Narrator Violet Kyson has just opened the pedestal-and-orb statue in the middle of a pool in the hall they are in. 

For a moment all I could see was whirling water. I shielded my eyes with my arms and saw Utah shield Gillian and himself on the other side. Something shot out of the ring and flailed, but I couldn't see through the torrents of water flying around. When they settled, I turned around again and saw stretched out around the ring, a basilik.
Instantly  I ducked my eyes just in time to avoid meeting its eyes and saw it flick its tongue out at me; I couldn't tell if it was trying to speak to me or was pondering the best way to eat me. Still, he was not very large or long. I whirled my fans out, spinning them open loudly to catch him attention so that the other two might have a chance of getting to safer ground. 
"Don't look at its eyes, don't look at its eyes," Utah was muttering as he pushed Gillian back towards the lantern. The path was still not completely visible, but neither was it shielded anymore, so I could vaguely make out the ends of the platform. Seeing as I was scarily close to the ledge, I backed up. 
"Quick, anything immune to basilisk evil eye curse?" Utah said, working his way around, head down looking at the path and careful not to look even at the reflection of the deathly eyes. 
"Pixies!" Gillian said, half screeching with fear.
"Anything else?"
"PIxies! And um, some faeries, I think. Dragons! Some birds of prey and-and" she as stuttering helplessly, clutching the lantern cluelessly and staring back at the walls. She watched the basilisk's shadow lash out before we did and screamed in alert. 
As my brother leapt up to avoid the tail crashing down, I ducked and skid a few paces from the face that jutted past me. I closed my eyes to avoid seeing its eyes. "What else?" Utah yelled, stabbing blindly. I backed up again before whirling and launching my fans at the beast's tail, cutting and hacking, my mind focused on a single green scale to keep myself from freaking out. 
"Um-um! Pixies, faeries, dragons..."
She screamed as it lashed out towards us and a moment later I felt my feet leave the ground as basilisk launched me into the air with a swing of his tail. I heard Utah yell and Gillian screech again, her echos scaring me more than my own plight.
"Trampoline!" I called, pushing my hand out before where I determined I would land. Nothing seemed to happen, but instead of hitting the tile floor I bounced on a soft bouncy material that tossed me lightly into the air. 
"Trampoline?" Utah asked as I clambered off the invisible trampoline. "That's the best thing you could think of?" 
"Where's the trampoline?" Gillian asked, all over me the moment I was on solid ground again. I pointed and Gillian stretched her trembling fingers out and enveloped the invisible object in a field of dark energy. "I-I'll try--"
"He went underwater," my brother replied, walking over to us.
"Is he--"
"No."
I picked a fan up from where I had dropped it mid-flight and noticed the pink metal-cloth material was torn. Snapping it shut I replaced it to it's usual location and twirled my good weapon around in my right hand as I walked towards the pool. I peered into its depths, confused. "But he couldn't have...just left...." I muttered, kneeling and sheathing the other fan. From the depths I saw a stir of movement and instantly shut my eyes; eyes still closed I heard the roaring of water and loud, cold breathing. 
No one spoke. Not a sound was made. Finally, I peeked, saw yellow, and shut my eyes again. Then slowly, tentatively, I opened my eyes again. 
Before me lay the basilisk, it's yellow and red eyes open wide and peering at me. For a moment I thought it was dead, or I was dead, for I should not have been able to look into the great snake's eyes. When nothing happened though, and I determined I was very much alive, I stared into the giant yellow eye, trying to see through it and figure out, perversely enough, why I was not dead. Then I saw it. 
Reflected in the eye was myself, only twisted. My violet hair was morphed red, wild, cut short and curly and my skin was pale as stone, with no color but trickles of blood on the edge of my lips. In my hand I held a dagger--my dagger--only the three small amethysts on the blade were tiny rubies and the blade itself was jagged and chipped, with bit-marks visible on the hilt. My clothing was scarce, scarlet-colored and with long laces that flowed back in a nonexistent wind. As I stared at myself, the reflection smiled; my mouth turned up, showing sharp teeth stained with crimson. This image lasted longest, and then others flickered before me: I saw myself in my phantom-form, chewing the organs out of victims and gorging on blood and flesh with carcasses strewn around me.  I eradicated entire worlds with invisible comets the inhabitants never saw coming. And there was no fire. Everything had been snuffed out by a universal iceland, so that I was all-mighty wherever I went. I saw the faces of people that had ridiculed me and called me crazy flash by, all slain, all dead. 
I radiated power. 
The basilisk blinked it's large eye, lazily or confusedly and I blinked as well. My vision was blurred by green ends, but I saw nothing different. The snake was still there, I was still there, and my evil reflection was still there. 
"Phantoms?" came a soft voice, laced with fear and fright, with a tinge of confused realization. "…What do you see?"
I blinked again and everything became monotone and washed away in a blur of shades of gray. To the outsider my irises had just turned brown, but to me the world had altered. Gone was the gigantic hall with the pool and gone was the great lizard. I saw a small, dusty room, with heavy curtains over the only window. There were overturned boxes and papers and tools everywhere layered with dust. The only furniture was a broken chain lying discarded on its back, and a small round table in the center, covered by a dark tablecloth. On this tablecloth I saw a small white piece, somewhat of half of a yin-yang shape, with red streaks running over it like blood vessels. Confused, I stared at the colored object in the monotone world. Finally, I blinked again, and as gray color again encompassed my iris, I saw back into the huge looming eye of the basilisk, and heard the dripping of water in the hall again. 
“Are you ok?”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t seem to be able to control my voice or my body, only stare into that horrid orb and watch the evil me laugh as it destroyed. 
Within me, some part felt like screaming, but another, cooler side, held it back, and I remained silent. Shaking, but in one piece.
Finally the basilisk must have tired of staring at me and it backed away, thick eyelids closing and opening loudly as it turned away from me and to the other two. Still I was unable to move. I could hear the pattering of feet behind me and screams before a battle of sword and fang ensued. Some part of me wondered what was going on—the part that had wanted to scream before—but the other half knew—just knew that there was a battle going on behind me. 
“Violet Kyson!” 
I whirled at the sound and suddenly my life snapped back into place. A dull headache pounded in the back of my head and my eyes hurt as if I had been staring at a digital screen for too long, but I felt my body melt back into my control and my limbs move again. The serpent was advancing on Utah now and he was fighting blindly, spinning on instinct and using sounds to tell where his adversary was. 
"Violet! Answer me!" Gillian was before me now, shaking me frantically. Her eyes, normally blue-gray, looked more panicked than mine, as if she and not me had seen the basilisk's eyes. "Violet, what's happening?"
"I-I-" I stuttered, unable to speak coherently. Thoughts reeled in my head, centrifuging and picking up feelings in a hurricane within my mind. It was not unusual, since this was what I felt in any icy environment in my phantom form: the rush of everyone's thoughts and memories and knowledge stirred up in a great flurry that I would have to sift through to find what I needed."It's.."
She seemed to not even be there: I seemed to see through her to the battle, and I --perhaps it was because I had just stared death in the eye and lived-- gaped at the creature of the pool's eyes, as if I were trying to find the pupil and shoot it out. Then suddenly I saw it: it's eyes were a strange trio of colors: bright red around the pupil, and deep blue around the rim, with a band of flaring yellow between them that varied in thickness. And staring into it, I recalled seeing it close up and now noticed tiny purple vessels marking light paths over the eyeball. And in the center, where a hole for the pupil should have been, was instead an impenetrable black sphere that glowed faintly whenever the serpent hissed. "I don't know," I whispered. And there it was: three tiny words etched in white on the orb in the center of each eye. 
"I don't know," I said again, more forcefully. Gillian backed away from me in shock as I unsheathed my fans from their fastenings on my forearms. They had mended themselves since and were glittering subtly with newness when I snapped them open with a deafening crack and closing them quietly. The moment the creature looked in my direction I shot them at his eyes, aiming for the small black spheres. As they bolted through the air in slow-motion, I felt a burning desire to holler some final word or phrase at it, but couldn't think of anything and watched in cold silence as the pink projectiles shattered their targets. 
The strange basilisk screeched, less in pain, and surprisingly more in elation. 
Freedom! I heard, as if spelled out in the air before his jaw. It turned towards my brother with a menacing hiss, but the swordsman had ducked underneath its scaly body and slashed upwards, channeling light-energy down the blade. The snake was smacked sideways before its opponent stabbed it between the scales. There was a hiss of air and the basilisk fizzed into the air, vanishing in a trail of smoke that slunk towards the pool of water, made a ring around the floating orb on top before diving into the depths of the water, back into the ring it had come out of. 
We took a few tentative steps towards the glowing ring but suddenly the stone orb fell from where it had been suspended the whole time, sealing off the underwater pipe and cracking on the top. Everyone was silent. Utah caught his breath as he paced next to Gillian, who dropped the lantern in shock and relief. I walked forward and stepped next to the cracked stone globe and simply stared at it, careful not to touch.
"Well," Utah finally said, coming up behind me. I heard him sheath his sword and wring the water from his drenched shirt. "That was pointless. We didn't even find Sapphire."
I touched the edge of the fracture and the stone opening widened into a small arch. The inside seemed empty, but for some reason I blinked and altered my eye color so they were in their light-brown form. 
I saw in monotone, but it was sufficient: there was no furniture in the round room except for a chair and a table, though there were boxes all around the room, with papers lying in neat stacks over them. As in the vision I saw from the snake, there was a small curved chip on the table, like half of a yin-yang sign and with red streaks running over it. The chair was no longer broken, sitting upright behind the table. And sitting on the chair was the person Gillian, Utah, and I had gone searching for: Her hair reached a ways down her back, and was untied and slightly curled at the ends. She wore a plain, white, polo shirt with a folded white skirt and stockings. Around her waist was a thin red belt--this red I saw as light gray--with matching shoes. 
She stood, and dropped the tablecloth she had wrapped around her like a blanket. Beside me, GIllian and Utah gasped in surprise; I blinked and my vision returned to normal as I stepped forward. "Scarlet Lyne," I greeted with a small grin, feeling entirely more devious than I had ever before. Next to me, Utah was quick to frown. 
"Aren't you Sapphire? Sapphire Lilliane?"
"An alias," I smirked and Scarlet nodded embarrasedly. 
"Why-why are you here?"
"We came looking for you!" Gillian shrieked, collapsing on the bridge. "You're...ok."
"Yes." She made to step out but I stopped her with an upheld hand. 
"Take it," I said, pointing to the piece on the table. She glanced back at it before turning to me, shocked. "Take it," I repeated. "You can't escape from it," I said quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder in comfort. I didn’t know half of what I was saying, but I knew that she couldn’t leave it here. If my ghost-vision had told me anything, it was that the
“It’s going to embed itself into me again,” Scarlet said fearfully.
I thought for a moment and twirled my finger around, creating a strand of invisible twine. “Just pick it up,”I said and she capitulated, taking it carefully but hatefully in two fingers. I lowered the twine to the piece, scrutinizing it for a small hole to string the twine through, and to our surprise the tip of the piece moved, curling upwards to form a loop. It was cooperating. Quickly, I made the magical piece that had been for the last few years been buried within Scarlet’s body into a necklace and hung it on her neck. It wavered lightly, contently, and Scarlet looked up at me, a real smile on her face for one.
Utah and Gillian led the way back outside, and I followed behind with Scarlet. “So you,” my brother called when we had crawled through the tunnel and was back at the dead-end area. “Running away from paradise to isolate yourself with a death-snake. Original,” he commented with a grin. “So. What’s next?”
Artist's Note: Another rough draft thus far, concluding the little short story of "Eyes." Comments and criticism still appreciated though; help me improve it! Mostly...is everything clear?
I would also like to take this moment to say that Lewis and I have created a FictionPress account for DiW, accessible from the "links" bar. Once we get to posting, we will only be posting completed stories, though--and not all of them at that--, so commenting here is still appreciated. (Brownies for everyone that has already!) And anyways, I'll tell you if we're posting something up there, edited or unedited. Meanwhile; any suggestions for posts?
Thanks for reading! Please comment! :3
~SilverInk