Name

Title: Name
Author: SilverInk
Writing: Short Story?. (part descriptive anecdote)
Word Count: 1669

I waited in the round room of black for something to happen to me, as there was nothing I could do myself. With my eyes still closed I lifted one tiny paw and pressed it against the wall of the dark room I was scrunching in. It was composed of thin, cool strands and as a whole was smooth but not soft. It was covered by something else, a flimsy object that felt like solid reeds woven together. This was not smooth, but soft. It fluttered when I poked it, and the level of light flickered subtly. I paid no more attention to either and nursed the dull pressure in my head, a vestige of my nap.

Finally the shaking of the room stopped and I straightened slowly, stretching my limbs and feeling much like an old bed must when its occupant gets off it. It was like my bones were pulling, slowly but surely. But I was no old creature and my pace was due to the fading lethargy of my brain. 

Ahead of me, a light seeped through the darkness, creeping quietly throughout the very small room. 

"So? How do you like her?" a voice that sounded like apple pie said. 

The room suddenly tilted and I skittered out of it and onto fluffy ground. 

"So...cute!" a gentle voice the quality of drifting cloth murmured. My ear turned towards it but i was peering at the apple-pie lady. The pie-shape of her lips turned upwards at the corners. "But what is she?" the drifting-cloth person said. 

"A kiwiti," apple-pie replied. I turned away from her and faced the drifting cloth girl and the silent rock behind her. She smiled and held out her hand amicably. I touched it tentatively and felt a thick softness, something like a rough version of a stack of smooth papers. I sniffed the scent of pencil and presumed she would be my kataria.

The silent rock spoke now, with a robotic voice that sounded like rocks trickling past each other. It was neither cold nor warm; it reflected both the seriousness of the man yet conveyed the emotion behind it. He said in this strange voice of his to the drifting cloth: "Kiwiti are creatures that are born the form of a kitten and evolve into a giant leopard-like creature. They can not only communicate mentally but can also use magic of their own. They are highly intelligent and the various species of kiwiti are still well-established in their traditional lands. This one...she is from a nearby pack that has been very friendly with our town. "

What was this that he said? Something about me? I sat still and silent, listening intently and carefully.  I understood tidbits of their language, but not all. In any case, speech would not have been appropriate here. It was necessary to impress the kataria, so that I would be accepted. I waited.

"Do you understand?"

The drifting cloth rustled and turned to the robotic rock. "Yes, thank you, Papa!" To apple pie she said delightedly, "Thank you, Mama!" before turning back to me and again offering her hands.

I assumed that robotic rock was called "Papa" in this household? And apple pie was known as "Mama"? 

Drifting cloth picked me up and skipped out this room and into another. The old room had a symbol on it looked like an upside down question-mark with a flat line on top instead of a dot. This room had a circle with a curved line poking out on top. Inside though, they were very similar. The blankets and curtains wore the same design and the pillows were identical dumplings. The same round, wooden desk was present; the door was the same as well, aside from the symbols. 

She set me on a bed half the size of the one in the other room--that was perhaps the only difference in the basic furnishings-- and pulled up a chair as I inspected the white sheet on the bed--a sea of sand grains sewn together. 

"Hi! My name is Ribbon Blues and I'm 9!," she said, the quality of fluttering strips of cloth echoing in her voice. "What's your name?"

Name? What was a name?

Not understanding, I peered at the golden-brown tails attached by purple-pink bands to my new Gaurdian's head. She was an elf, I decided. Kiwiti did not have such elaborate fur, and we most certainly did not center it on our heads. 

"What did your parents name you before you came?" she tried again.

Name? Parents? Elves were strange. I was confused of the terms she used, but could tell she was speaking to me and that it would be rude to just leave, particularly since she was my new kataria and I could not ignore my guardian's words. I mimicked her position and laid my front paws in front of me and set my head on them. When she tilted her head sideways, I did that too. When she cocked it to other side, I followed her movement. She was no longer talking. What that a signal for me to leave?

"What should I call you?" she asked, sighing. This time I understood. She was asking for my Identity. 

I sniffed and a sharp but pleasant scent diluted by water wafted through my nose. "My birthmother is called Genna Ash," I told her. 

"Hey!" she exclaimed. "Mama is called Genna! I'm called Ribbon Blues," she said excitedly, enthusiasm radiating off her as her head popped up and the tails bounced. I connected apple pie with "Mama" and that with "Genna" This girl, drifting cloth, was also called "Ribbon Blues", which was a...a name. Did the elves need so many ways to identify and call people? So many Identities? So many...names? 

"A name is what someone is called?"

"Yep!" Ribbon Blues said. "So what's your name?"

"I...do not have one."

"Didn't your parents name you?"

Again with the parents. What was a parent? "Parents?"

"You know, like your mother and father?"

Again with the confusing ways of identification. So many...names! I had no name yet. I had no Identity. "I was not given one."

She looked startled. "Then let's think of one for you," she decided. She stared first at her uncompleted painting of the mountains outside the room then at the pastel slate featuring the Angelsign, thinking of something then unknown to me. I followed her gaze with wide, alert eyes. 

"Where did you used to live?"

"In the place of snow and cold, where the ground was color of my fur and the rain the color of my eyes."

"In the mountains?"

I nodded quietly and examined the Angelsign slate with interest in the art. 

"Mountains...Sierra? No. Angelsign... Angels... seraphim? Sierra, Seraphim...Syra? Serah?"

"Serrah?" I asked, rolling the "r"s of what I assumed she had chosen as my "name"

"Yep! That's it!" Ribbon Blues said, jumping up and twirling me around. "You'll be called Serrah Ash!"

"Serrah Ash," I pronounced, mulling over it contently when she dropped me back on the bed and rummaged through the secret panels of a large hat perched on her painting easel. 

"I'm going to continue painting now, ok?" she confirmed. I nodded once and yawned lazily. Eyes half closed, I estimated how I could get myself onto the table next to Ribbon's easel. I ran and leapt, missing the table edge by far. Luckily, Ribbon caught me and set me back on the bed before pulling a pen of brown gel out of the large purple hat. 

Ribbon uncapped the gel pen with a soft click and drew a rectangle shape in the air between the bed and the table. A soft milky brown flowed smoothly from the tip, and seemed to soften into a three-dimentional line floating in the air. After looking it over, she drew squiggly lines and colored-in spots in the rectangle. She recapped the pen and set it on the table as if this was the most normal form of magic; I stared suspiciously at it, unmoving. The drawing shimmered softly, still hanging in the air. 

She then detached the large shiny stone on the front of the hat and covered its smooth surface with her small hands. When she opened her hands, it had faded from a deep purple to a semi-transparent white; I could see a few items floating around phlegmatically in the stone now hovering above her hands. Ribbon tapped one of these and the stone glowed white and elongated itself into a skinny, silver stylus with diagonal violet stripes. She pointed the stylus at the glimmering drawing and the fading fireworks glowed before cementing into a plank of wood spanning the gap between the bed and the table. 

I glanced at her to find her returning the stylus to its stone-form and re-clasping it to her hat--her mage's kit, I supposed. Tiredly, she sauntered around the table, opened a cabinet and pulled out a bar of light blue mint speckled with rich chocolate chunks. She bit, swallowed, and instantly seemed more refreshed.

Lifting a paw, I stepped tentatively on the plank and crossed slowly but safely. "You could have just picked me up and put me on the table," I said as Ribbon finished the mint, returned to her seat in front of the easel and picked up her palette.

"But then I wouldn't get the opportunity to practice my magic," she replied, turning to me. Accepting the answer, I picked up a paintbrush by the handle with my teeth and offered it to her. She took it, smiling, and resumed painting.

I sat on my hind legs and watching her from the table: she depicted a snowy mountain range in the palms of a pair of hands; off the edge slipped snow and fell as a ribbon of blue ash. 

Artist's Note: It actually started as a 300 word descriptive piece (that's about the time Ribbon takes Serrah to her room) but I expanded it--1300 words more. :D That's probably why the organization is kind of random and Serrah has descriptions of fluctuating detail. 


I got the idea for Ribbon off this piece of art by Saehral (Brittany Fuerst) on deviantART: Deadly Sin: Ruby (NOT MY ART). And that's really what inspired the story.

For clarity, and for my own future reference, the literal definition of a kataria (note this is a Miniword) is a guardian, which is why Serrah calls Ribbon one. But the kataria is more like companion/ living residence host/ daemon than a guardian. So if Ribbon were to visit the kiwiti tribe, Serrah would be the kataria and Ribbon the keythaune (term that wasn't mentioned, but basically what Serrah was in this scenario.)

If you'd like a clarification of what anything is/ any terms/ anything, please tell me in a comment I'll add it to this note here :D Thanks for reading! :)

Birthday

Title: Birthday
Author: Lewis
Writing: Short Story
Word Count: 705

The park is full of people.
“Happy birthday,” says your big brother. “Come on, smile. You’re sixteen now, aren’t you?”
He earnestly takes your hand and leads you to the table laden with cake and presents. Your family and friends crowd around, waiting.
“I‘ll open presents,” you mutter, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Then we‘ll have cake.”
Your best friend nudges playfully at your shoulder. “Open mine first. It‘s the one in the Home Depot bag.”
The breath that everyone seems to be holding is released, and the atmosphere is light again.
When all the presents are unwrapped and accounted for, and you have thanked each of your guests, Mom takes a lighter and sets the candles on the cake aflame. The whole affair is messy, since the area around the cake is crammed with crumpled tissue paper and ribbon. Someone softly begins to sing “Happy Birthday,” in a hesitant whisper. It takes several seconds for them to realize that the song has started, and eventually they’re carrying the tune in more or less recognizable pitches. You laugh at their effort, and applaud loudly to appease their bruised egos once they have finished. The candles are quickly blown out and removed, as one of your kid cousins is clearly yearning to take one home with her.
For your birthday, Mom has agreed to let you be in charge of cutting the cake. The only time she’ll ever let you handle a knife, she says, and hopefully the last. You decide not to remind her that someday you’ll do so- despite her wishes, because come hell or high water you’re determined to learn to cook for yourself. Besides, what have you done to make her wary of you using a knife?
You save the largest slice for yourself.
“Hog,” your big brother whines. “It’s your birthday, and all, but couldn’t you at least be fair?”
“I’m eating for two.”
“Don’t tell me-”
“No! Jerk. It’s Dad’s share I’m eating.”
“Should have known you’d pull up an excuse like that.”
Having eaten their cake, your guests begin to leave. Some stay behind to help clean up, promising to visit again soon. Within half an hour or so, the park is empty save for you, your brother, and Mom.
“I’ll finish up here. Why don’t you and your brother head on home first?” Mom suggests, gathering up the wrapping paper.
Big brother speaks up. “Actually, Mom, I’ll stay and help you clear away the rest of the trash. That looks like it‘s going to take a while to get done.”
It’s still early in the afternoon, and the sky is blue as can be. Still, the walk to your house is short, and you begin to look forward to taking an early nap. One of your friends passes you by in a car, beeping it so loudly that the cat lady living in the house next door pokes her head out in irritation.
“Teenagers,” she grumbles, shaking her fist at the car. She notices you walking by. “Hello, dear. Are you doing all right?”
“I’ve been better, thanks.”
As you shut the front door behind you, the first thing you do is make for the living room to watch TV. You search the room for the remote, but to no avail.
“Dad, have you seen the TV remote?”
You immediately realize your mistake the moment those words leave your lips. The emptiness of the house is glaringly obvious in the complete silence that follows.
It’s frustrating, the way that you can’t get over not having anyone to find the remote for you. If there had been one extra person at the party, you probably wouldn’t have eaten such a large slice. Before, there was someone who would strictly watch your diet and scold you for eating so many sweets. Even though Mom and your big brother have tried hard to make your birthday a memorable one, you haven’t been able to shake off this feeling. You have never felt so incomplete.
That’s right:
Dad died today.

------------------------
my longest post yet, maybe?
And I haven't posted in a long time, sorry.
gah.
sadness D:
I want to write a happy story.

~Lewis, posting this in a hurry so that Silver can read it.

Diamond Curse

Title: Diamond Curse
Author: SilverInk
Writing: Short Story
Word Count: 1786

Farsiris Daylily Vaina was busy checking her appearance--again--in her flower-shaped mirror. Something still wasn't right and Siris knew what it was--her necklace. Not one of her necklaces matched her outfit. 

Finally she sighed in defeat and took off the necklace she had on, deciding she could do without one altogether, and hurried from her dorm room. 

School was the same as usual. Siris was certain by she'd aced her literature and demonology tests--the latter not so much as the former--and by the time she walked out of her last period, Siris was thinking of the night's play, for lack of any other interesting subject matter to dwell upon. Then again, the play didn't hold too much interest for her, aside from seeing the costumes: her friend Enlaika was the costume designer and Siris knew Enlaika was a brilliant and fashionable artist at her craft. 

"Margaret!" A familiar and welcome voice called. Siris looked up from her thoughts and saw Collin Gray calling out to his childhood friend Margaret Allene Garrett.

Siris watched with a pang of jealousy as her vamipre crush embraced the new girl at school. He drew away quickly, laughing about what Siris assumed was Margaret's lack of control of her power. Margaret's power--transfer of energies--had a nasty tendency to suck --or infuse-- a plethora of energy from or with anyone she touched.  Siris sulked. At least I can control my powers, she mused cynically, turning away and retuning to her dormitory.

---

The person that had bought a ticket for the seat next to Siris's right hadn't come yet, or they simply weren't coming. Siris glanced at the empty seat and then at her flower shaped watch. 10 minutes until the play started. She sat, ignoring the chatter of the cheerleaders to her left as they admired each other. Siris yawned. She hoped Collin would be the one that would sit to her tight, but she knew Titan, Collin's roommate, had that seat. 

A glimmer of light caught her eye and Siris detected a diamond necklace on a thick aquamarine cord hung on the edge of the handrest. Intrigued, Siris picked it up, wondering who would lose such an exquisite item. She looked down at her clack dress and long to pit it on--it fit perfectly. 

Just for awhile, she begged herself, then hesitated. On the bck of the cord, she noticed a name, sewn in black silk--Enlaika Glavin/ Oh! Enlaika must have lost it accidentally while working in the theater. Siris would keep it on now and return it to Enlaika after the show when--hopefully--her friend would let her examine some of the costumes personally. 

There was something extraordinary about this piece of jewelry, Siris realized the moment she put it on. The cheerleaders next to her quieted and the teacher stopped patrolling irritably up and down the aisles of the auditorium. 

"Hey," someone to her right said, and Siris looked up into the storm-gray of Collin's eyes. "Titan's not coming so he gave me his seat. Hope you don't mind," he explained, flashing her a smile that made all the flower seats in her pocket float with delight. 

"Absolutely," she breathed as the lights dimmed and the show started. Sometime in the midst of the well-acted play, Collin's hand found a way into hers and by the tragic ending, their hands were tightly clasped. They stood and clapped as the performers took a last bow and waited until the last of the teary audience left before approaching the front, where Enlaika was waiting for them. Collin trailed behind but still followed Siris for some inexplicable reason. Siris enveloped her friend in a hug, proclaiming how marvelously tragic the play was. 

"Are you busy?" Enlaika asked, Siris replied she wasn't. "Fantastic--come with me. You said you wanted to see the costumes?

Siris's face lit up and she and Collin followed Enlaika. "I have your necklace," Siris commented, moving to take it off. 

"You can keep it for now," she said smiling sadly. "I'm in no hurry to get it back."

----

It was two weeks before Siris felt any guilt and two months before she decided she couldn't handle it anymore . Her life was seemingly perfect. As long as she kept the diamond necklace on--and she was almost compelled to wear it--she could directly influence the course of events by sheer willpower. The necklace hat since added Farsiris Vaina to the cord in black and Enlaika's name had faded to teal. 

But something urged her to return it. Why, she couldn't tell--who would be willing to sacrifice paradise? 

---

"Collin, stop." Siris commanded but her boyfriend didn't drop his hand from cupping her face. "Stop," she repeated, but he didn't, as she knew he wouldn't--because secretly she didn't want him to leave, and the diamond necklace answered to that clandestine desire. 

"What do  you want?" Collin asked, his voice strange as he leaned backand away from her. 

"You don't love me," she stated matter-of-factly, touching the necklace that made everything happen the way she wanted.

"I do."

Of course he did. She wanted him to. Siris hesitated and a random thought stirred in her head: She had filled in random bubbles in the last math test as an experiment to see if the necklace would really grant her anything she desired. But she quickly determined her life--and Collin's sanity--were more important than a grade that would  barely affect her stellar academic record. 

She drew in a long shaky breath and undid the clasp in a single move, letting it fall to the grass floor.

"Now do you love me?"

"I..." The strange teal that had crept into his eyes suddenly vanished and Collin stumbled away from her, leaning against the wall of the garden maze for support. His head was spinning and she could see he was close to passing out. 

"Collin!" She approached him but he held a hand up and she respected his request for her to back away. 

"Just go, Siris. I'll be fine. I'm just confused." He didn't look fine and every fiber of Siris's being called out for her to help somehow, but she squashed these proclivities with great discipline and nodded. She swept the necklace from the ground and fled from the maze, the flowers on the walls guiding her the way out. She burst into the school and continued to the drama room where she startled a few of the drama club members talking backstage. "Enlaika Glavin. I need to talk to her."

One of the people looked like he was about to object and Siris shot them a glare that only the queen of popularity herself could muster. "Now."

"Enlaika's sick in her room," someone finally said. "Why?"

She ignored his question and dashed off with a "Thanks". She scurried to the third floor where the girls' dorms were and found Enlaika's room. Putting on the necklace grudgingly and willing that the door was unlocked and Enlaika awake, Siris mused on what to ask.

As she had hoped, the door was unlocked and the room vacant except for Enlaika who was laying on the bed, reaching for a glass of water just out of her reach. She turned and smiled tiredly at Siris before flopping back on her bed. "Something amiss?" she asked hoarsely.

Siris handed Enlaika the water glass and showed her the necklace--she'd figured out that people couldn't see the jewel unless she wanted them too, and though she was fairly certain that Enlaika would recognize her own pendant--she had the first time she'd mentioned it--she wanted to be clear. "I need you to take it back. I know it gives me what I want, but once I took it off...Collin got this massive headache and I'm afraid I've seriously hurt him...pemanantly?"

Enlaika shook her head and sat up to drink. She took a long sip before explaining, "It's the temporary side effect of the magic. "The more will you exert on a person, the more the receiver i affected when you take it off."

"I...think I get that. Why are you sick? I didn't want you to be."

"But on the other hand, you didn't specifically will me not o be sick," Enlaika pointed out and took another drink from the endless-water glass. "Thus, my life proceeded as if would have without its influence. Probably also because I was usually manipulating myself when I used it."

"Let's keep it off then," Siris said quickly, taking it off.

But Enlaika disagreed. "You've probably noticed the necklace almost compels you to wear it. Usually people can only see it if you want them to or if you've been its master before. If you resist wearing it though, it will either return to another master or switch to a different function and entice people to find and wear it." She paused. "You understand then, why you wouldn't want it?"

"I'm controlling everyone. I'm sick of getting my way even when I don't get my way--the...thing works so that I get what I secretly want, even if tragedy is what results. I...I don't want the feeling that I'll be able to control everything in the end by sheer will. The power's eating away at me."

Enlaika nodded in understanding and sighed. "You learn to be ambivalent to everything. You learn to control your will on the world. Because if you don't want anything to happen to anyone or anything, then the necklace can't do anything to alter the natural course of events." She stopped and drank again, pensive. She murmured, "You learn to care without caring."

Siris watched Enlaika then turned to the necklace. She made a decision and handed the culprit of chaos to Enlaika. "You keep it. For now. We can trade off, once I learn this...ambivalence."

With a nod, Enlaika reached for the diamond. As Enlaika touched the jewel, a faint aquamarine glow pulsed around it and she noticed the colors of their names on the back of the cord switched again. 

For comfort--either for herself or Siris--Enlaika smiled and lied back down. "I'll be fine," she assured. A similar aquamarine aura glowed around the water glass--Siris realized that she could now see the effects of the diamond--and the glass moved back to it's original place on the desk. 

Siris took this as her signal to leave and stood. At the door she stopped and turned. "One small thing--I put random answers on my math test. Could you--?"

She stopped and returned Enlaika's grin. 

Artist's Note: Another short story and another detour from the Character Backgrounds ;)

DISCLAIMER: Farsiris, Collin and Margaret are actually alias Lyrica Pie's OCs. I had permission to use them for my writing. Thank you Lyrica

@Lyrica--I have an idea for the Jane Exina thing you asked for but it might be a very long while until I write and post >.<

And Tasuke will be in Tsiyone's background. :)

Please read and review! Thank you in advance!

~SilverInk