The First Whole Scene!
Apr. 19th, 2005 04:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cinaedThat's right! I managed to do an entire scene from "Whispered Awakening"! *does a victory dance*
Whispered Awakening
Prologue
Inness Tadleigh sighed as gentle hands smoothed away the strand that had been tickling his cheek, and turned a grateful smile upon his master even as he inwardly despaired. Just the fact that his master had had to do such a simple thing for him was testimony to his present worthlessness.
Once, Inness had been fit and able to perform any task that his master had required of him. After his ninetieth year of life, however, his fingers had begun to twist and grow gnarled, and now that he was past his hundredth year, his hands were utterly useless.
As though listening to his servant’s pessimistic thoughts, his master spoke. “How old are you now?” The inquiry was said slowly, and Inness knew that his lord was trying to force himself to care.
The attempt made him smile a little. After over ten thousand years of living, a man could only escape either insanity or lethargy, not both, and his master had succumbed to the latter. Even a slight effort to do more than recline on his throne was a burdensome task, and Inness appreciated even a simple question wrenched from his master’s throat.
Inness answered, unsurprised at the old-man quality of his voice with all its hoarseness and whispery frailty. “One…one hundred and four, milord; I turned one hundred and four about two weeks ago.” As he spoke, each year weighed heavily upon him—it felt as though the years had become weights that pressed down on his slumped shoulders and made his knobby knees buckle. “Do…do you need me to go to the village, Master?”
He knew it was a pointless question; his master had had enough mortal servants to know that Inness was too old and worn-out to survive the three-week long journey from the ancient castle to the village that had given his master supplies for millennia upon millennia. Still, he had to ask, as though his master’s unlikely consent would make him feel useful for the first time in years.
His master was silent for a moment, and then said, “Not today, Inness. I wish to have company today, and I would not have you leave my side for three weeks. Tell me of your childhood instead, of your island.”
That startled Inness, and he couldn’t keep the surprise from showing on his face. When he had first come to this secluded castle over eighty years before, his master had asked him a question or two about his past, but had then the immortal had moved past it. No more had been spoken of the life that Inness had left behind. He hesitated for a moment, suddenly fearful. Had his memories slipped away with old age? But no, the memories of his youth were as familiar as ever, and the images of his family with their sun-beaten, laughing faces filled his vision.
When Inness spoke, he didn’t hear the longing in his voice. “My island, milord? Well, the island is just off the mainland in the Bahari Sea, so it has the bluest waters you’ve ever seen—bluer than even your eyes, Master! When the sun…when the sun shone just right on the water there seemed like thousands upon thousands of tiny diamonds dancing across the surface. And the shore! The shore was as white as the alabaster pillars of your throne room. Visitors would see our island in the far-off distance, like a beacon of hope, and then come closer and see its beauty. Our homes are—were just beyond the trees, to protect us when the weather god raged.” His voice softened. “My home was one of the closest to the beach. Mum would wake me to go fishing with Da, and I’d step outside and see….”
“See?” His master’s prompt was mild.
Inness swallowed, suddenly as homesick as he had been his first few weeks away from the island. “I’d see the ocean, stretched out endlessly, disappearing beyond the horizon, the rising sun casting shades of blue and violet and red upon the water….” He whispered the words, and the longing choked his very breath from him. “I wish…I wish someday you’d be able to visit the island, milord. It is so very beautiful.”
“Perhaps one day I shall,” his master said. “Once the Prophecy begins, I will see all sorts of places and all kinds of wonders. If the Prophecy ever begins….” There was a resignation in the immortal’s voice, one that suggested he suspected that this was all a joke of the gods and that he was trapped in this castle for all of eternity waiting for someone who would never come.
“It will begin, milord! It must! You are the Immortal Seer! That part of the Prophecy is true, so there must be others! The war for the world will begin…soon.” And even as the words fell from his lips, Inness felt an awful certainty that the bloodshed and loss would indeed soon begin. The certainty stole his strength, and he suddenly felt weary. It took almost all his strength to speak. “You must wait for him just a little while longer, Master. Just a while longer.”
“And I do not even know if he will destroy the world or renew its splendor,” his master said, as though he hadn’t heard Inness. His full lips curved the slightest bit at the corners in a bitter smile. “I suppose it won’t matter.”
“My lord….” As the man’s servant, Inness had been honored by being told of the Prophecy. Only his master’s servants over the millennia had heard it spoken aloud, and known of it. Well, not counting the gods. Still, the thought of his master’s role in the Prophecy pained him. “Perhaps the line is merely a metaphor. After all, there are so many contradictions in the first stanza.”
“Stanza. You make it sound like a song, Inness.”
Inness turned a little pink at that, and ‘forgot’ to mention that he’d learn the Prophecy by putting it to song. Still, the little ditty slipped from his lips nevertheless.
“When will the war begin, the war to win the world?
When the Immortal Seer dies,
When the White Wolf screams with the voice of Man,
When the Silent One sings,
When kind laughter fills Johnas’ halls,
When the cursed child is welcomed with open arms,
And when the Fire-Bringer fears the flame,
Then and only then will the war begin....”
He would have gone on to the second part, but the song had left him breathless, and Inness gasped, startled at the pain in his chest. It felt like a knife had pierced his side and was twisting its way deeper into one of his lungs. His hand pressed against his chest for a moment, as though the touch would remind his straining lungs to breathe. Black spots crept into his vision when his lungs ignored his hand’s reminder, and he wheezed.
“Inness?”
He tried to answer his master, but all he could do was gasp and try to blink away the dark spots that were enlarging to overwhelm his vision and leave him blind. The intangible knife twisted deeper, and Inness whimpered at the pain. He didn’t realize he’d doubled over until he realized he was staring at the marbled floor instead of his master’s face. “I….” It was so hard to breathe, and Inness whimpered again in panic. He’d known he was going to die, but he’d thought death would come while he was sleeping. Not here. Not in front of his master and not while he huddled on the floor whimpering like a child.
He felt his master’s hand touch his shoulder, and almost arched into the touch, as though the immortal had a touch of death that would make painless oblivion come swiftly. “Master,” he whispered. “It…hurts.”
“It’ll be over in a moment, Inness,” came the soft response. “Soon the pain will be gone.”
His master sounded almost wistful, and Inness felt tears—ones of panic, fear, frustration—spring to his eyes. He didn’t want to die, not if it meant leaving his master alone for weeks upon end to await his next servant. That was why Inness had struggled to stay alive for so long, even if he had worn out his uselessness. He didn’t want the immortal to be alone.
“I’m sorry, Master,” he said, and heard resignation color his words. “I’m so sorry.”
The hand moved from his back, and then gentle touches guided the dying man to sit on the ground. “Do not be sorry, Inness. You and Dalaney were the most faithful of my servants. I am very proud of you.”
“Dalaney, milord?” Everything was beginning to fade, except for the pain that seemed to increase with each uneven breath, and he was almost completely blind now. Still, he latched onto the unfamiliar name. His master had never, ever mentioned the other servants aside to say that Inness hadn’t been his first.
His master was silent for a long moment in which Inness struggled to remember to breathe. “Dalaney was my original companion. He was my best friend…he was with me when I threw away my mortality…he was the one to insure that I would have a companion with me while I awaited the Savior,” the immortal said at last, and there seemed to almost be a content smile behind the words.
Oh, if only Inness hadn’t been so blind! He would have stared in wonder if there had been a smile upon the man’s face. Instead, he savored the mirth he heard in his master’s words, and rejoiced that his lord had respected him so to compare him to this Dalaney. “I am honored, sire….” He struggled to take in another breath, and was pleasantly surprised when it came easier than the prior ones. “Milord? This next one will be your last.”
The words had the power of the Prophecy behind them, and Inness shivered in near-ecstasy as he spoke them. “So, rejoice, Master! You will finally be able to die.” He smiled, blind, in the direction he thought his master was, and let death take him.
Yay! ^_^
Whispered Awakening
Prologue
Inness Tadleigh sighed as gentle hands smoothed away the strand that had been tickling his cheek, and turned a grateful smile upon his master even as he inwardly despaired. Just the fact that his master had had to do such a simple thing for him was testimony to his present worthlessness.
Once, Inness had been fit and able to perform any task that his master had required of him. After his ninetieth year of life, however, his fingers had begun to twist and grow gnarled, and now that he was past his hundredth year, his hands were utterly useless.
As though listening to his servant’s pessimistic thoughts, his master spoke. “How old are you now?” The inquiry was said slowly, and Inness knew that his lord was trying to force himself to care.
The attempt made him smile a little. After over ten thousand years of living, a man could only escape either insanity or lethargy, not both, and his master had succumbed to the latter. Even a slight effort to do more than recline on his throne was a burdensome task, and Inness appreciated even a simple question wrenched from his master’s throat.
Inness answered, unsurprised at the old-man quality of his voice with all its hoarseness and whispery frailty. “One…one hundred and four, milord; I turned one hundred and four about two weeks ago.” As he spoke, each year weighed heavily upon him—it felt as though the years had become weights that pressed down on his slumped shoulders and made his knobby knees buckle. “Do…do you need me to go to the village, Master?”
He knew it was a pointless question; his master had had enough mortal servants to know that Inness was too old and worn-out to survive the three-week long journey from the ancient castle to the village that had given his master supplies for millennia upon millennia. Still, he had to ask, as though his master’s unlikely consent would make him feel useful for the first time in years.
His master was silent for a moment, and then said, “Not today, Inness. I wish to have company today, and I would not have you leave my side for three weeks. Tell me of your childhood instead, of your island.”
That startled Inness, and he couldn’t keep the surprise from showing on his face. When he had first come to this secluded castle over eighty years before, his master had asked him a question or two about his past, but had then the immortal had moved past it. No more had been spoken of the life that Inness had left behind. He hesitated for a moment, suddenly fearful. Had his memories slipped away with old age? But no, the memories of his youth were as familiar as ever, and the images of his family with their sun-beaten, laughing faces filled his vision.
When Inness spoke, he didn’t hear the longing in his voice. “My island, milord? Well, the island is just off the mainland in the Bahari Sea, so it has the bluest waters you’ve ever seen—bluer than even your eyes, Master! When the sun…when the sun shone just right on the water there seemed like thousands upon thousands of tiny diamonds dancing across the surface. And the shore! The shore was as white as the alabaster pillars of your throne room. Visitors would see our island in the far-off distance, like a beacon of hope, and then come closer and see its beauty. Our homes are—were just beyond the trees, to protect us when the weather god raged.” His voice softened. “My home was one of the closest to the beach. Mum would wake me to go fishing with Da, and I’d step outside and see….”
“See?” His master’s prompt was mild.
Inness swallowed, suddenly as homesick as he had been his first few weeks away from the island. “I’d see the ocean, stretched out endlessly, disappearing beyond the horizon, the rising sun casting shades of blue and violet and red upon the water….” He whispered the words, and the longing choked his very breath from him. “I wish…I wish someday you’d be able to visit the island, milord. It is so very beautiful.”
“Perhaps one day I shall,” his master said. “Once the Prophecy begins, I will see all sorts of places and all kinds of wonders. If the Prophecy ever begins….” There was a resignation in the immortal’s voice, one that suggested he suspected that this was all a joke of the gods and that he was trapped in this castle for all of eternity waiting for someone who would never come.
“It will begin, milord! It must! You are the Immortal Seer! That part of the Prophecy is true, so there must be others! The war for the world will begin…soon.” And even as the words fell from his lips, Inness felt an awful certainty that the bloodshed and loss would indeed soon begin. The certainty stole his strength, and he suddenly felt weary. It took almost all his strength to speak. “You must wait for him just a little while longer, Master. Just a while longer.”
“And I do not even know if he will destroy the world or renew its splendor,” his master said, as though he hadn’t heard Inness. His full lips curved the slightest bit at the corners in a bitter smile. “I suppose it won’t matter.”
“My lord….” As the man’s servant, Inness had been honored by being told of the Prophecy. Only his master’s servants over the millennia had heard it spoken aloud, and known of it. Well, not counting the gods. Still, the thought of his master’s role in the Prophecy pained him. “Perhaps the line is merely a metaphor. After all, there are so many contradictions in the first stanza.”
“Stanza. You make it sound like a song, Inness.”
Inness turned a little pink at that, and ‘forgot’ to mention that he’d learn the Prophecy by putting it to song. Still, the little ditty slipped from his lips nevertheless.
“When will the war begin, the war to win the world?
When the Immortal Seer dies,
When the White Wolf screams with the voice of Man,
When the Silent One sings,
When kind laughter fills Johnas’ halls,
When the cursed child is welcomed with open arms,
And when the Fire-Bringer fears the flame,
Then and only then will the war begin....”
He would have gone on to the second part, but the song had left him breathless, and Inness gasped, startled at the pain in his chest. It felt like a knife had pierced his side and was twisting its way deeper into one of his lungs. His hand pressed against his chest for a moment, as though the touch would remind his straining lungs to breathe. Black spots crept into his vision when his lungs ignored his hand’s reminder, and he wheezed.
“Inness?”
He tried to answer his master, but all he could do was gasp and try to blink away the dark spots that were enlarging to overwhelm his vision and leave him blind. The intangible knife twisted deeper, and Inness whimpered at the pain. He didn’t realize he’d doubled over until he realized he was staring at the marbled floor instead of his master’s face. “I….” It was so hard to breathe, and Inness whimpered again in panic. He’d known he was going to die, but he’d thought death would come while he was sleeping. Not here. Not in front of his master and not while he huddled on the floor whimpering like a child.
He felt his master’s hand touch his shoulder, and almost arched into the touch, as though the immortal had a touch of death that would make painless oblivion come swiftly. “Master,” he whispered. “It…hurts.”
“It’ll be over in a moment, Inness,” came the soft response. “Soon the pain will be gone.”
His master sounded almost wistful, and Inness felt tears—ones of panic, fear, frustration—spring to his eyes. He didn’t want to die, not if it meant leaving his master alone for weeks upon end to await his next servant. That was why Inness had struggled to stay alive for so long, even if he had worn out his uselessness. He didn’t want the immortal to be alone.
“I’m sorry, Master,” he said, and heard resignation color his words. “I’m so sorry.”
The hand moved from his back, and then gentle touches guided the dying man to sit on the ground. “Do not be sorry, Inness. You and Dalaney were the most faithful of my servants. I am very proud of you.”
“Dalaney, milord?” Everything was beginning to fade, except for the pain that seemed to increase with each uneven breath, and he was almost completely blind now. Still, he latched onto the unfamiliar name. His master had never, ever mentioned the other servants aside to say that Inness hadn’t been his first.
His master was silent for a long moment in which Inness struggled to remember to breathe. “Dalaney was my original companion. He was my best friend…he was with me when I threw away my mortality…he was the one to insure that I would have a companion with me while I awaited the Savior,” the immortal said at last, and there seemed to almost be a content smile behind the words.
Oh, if only Inness hadn’t been so blind! He would have stared in wonder if there had been a smile upon the man’s face. Instead, he savored the mirth he heard in his master’s words, and rejoiced that his lord had respected him so to compare him to this Dalaney. “I am honored, sire….” He struggled to take in another breath, and was pleasantly surprised when it came easier than the prior ones. “Milord? This next one will be your last.”
The words had the power of the Prophecy behind them, and Inness shivered in near-ecstasy as he spoke them. “So, rejoice, Master! You will finally be able to die.” He smiled, blind, in the direction he thought his master was, and let death take him.
Yay! ^_^
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Date: 2005-04-23 08:38 pm (UTC)