Randomness. Not daily writing.
Jul. 19th, 2004 04:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runicloreThese are fragments of a short story I was going to write a while ago. I may still do it, if I can think of a real plot. I don't remember what I had in mind when I wrote it, so I hope looking at it again will jog my memory.
(If this were a real story, there would be an introduction and setting.)
"Do you have the scroll, Sarah?"
"Yes," she answered immediately, stooping down to pick it up. She unrolled it slowly so it
wouldn't bend or crackle, and held it up to the meager candlelight shining from the stand
behind them. The outlines, dark and precise and marked in Luc's hand, outlined exactly what
she said.
Leknaat pointed to the Chizen star, and traced Luc's line down to its companion, as if she
could see it as clearly as Sarah did. "What is the deeper meaning behind this?"
She looked from the chart to Leknaat, and the faint glimmer of the jewel on her forehead.
/Companionship/. Was there a deeper meaning to that? It didn't look particularly
significant on this particular chart - the two stars were all by themselves in the northern
quadrant, and at this time of year, that area held little significance. "I'm sorry, I..."
"Companionship." Leknaat's hand dropped to her side. "The reference the stars make is
obscure, but in context with other events in this man's life, what do you think it means?"
Sarah sighed. "He just lost his wife, didn't he?" She usually didn't waste her time with
attempting to keep abreast of events concerning the nobility. Delivering these charts was
usually Luc's task, so naturally it didn't involve /her/ beyond fetching books for him now
and again. "Perhaps it means he will find a new companion to replace her."
The seeress nodded, and a slight smile creased the marble of her face. "I know you have
done your research - Luc would have nothing else. If he asks you to interpret for him, keep
that knowledge in mind and do your best. He knows your predictions will not be precise."
Did he really? In her experience, nobles were rarely so understanding. "I understand."
Sarah rolled the chart closed again and knelt down to retrieve the ribbon.
(Wow, there's a big hole here!)
... a white robe with a high collar, loose sleeves, and little embellishment. It was the
attire of an apprentice, functional and sturdy, even severe. But though it looked stiff and
uncomfortable, Luc had softened the design when he made it for her, citing practical
reasons: she would have to stand and wait for hours, bow, present the scroll, accept
whatever hospitality they offered, and so on. If she looked at all distressed or
uncomfortable, it would reflect badly on them.
Still, it was nice that he was concerned for her comfort. The visit, as it turned out, was
not nearly as bad as he made it out to be at first. The lord simply asked her a few
questions and shooed her out the door. It was his daughter she had forgotten to be wary of.
(Small leap~)
Previous experience spoke of another unfortunate truth: the only greater threat than a lord
was his lady.
"Where is the boy who usually brings father's charts?"
The demand brought Sarah up short, back stiffening at the imperious tone of voice. But what
she did reflected on Luc and Leknaat, and with that sobering thought in mind she turned
around to confront the owner of that voice and bowed just low enough to remain within the
bounds of courtesy. "He was unable to make the trip this month. We apologize."
The lord's daughter - 'Rose' they called her, though she didn't seem at all sweet - sniffed
and crossed her arms, giving the impression that she was looking down her nose at Sarah
despite being a bit shorter. "And who are you? You don't look like a seer."
Sarah clenched her teeth. Who did this little upstart think she was? "I am Luc's
assistant, and apprentice to Lady Leknaat."
"/You/?"
-----------------------
Sarah's kind of sheltered, and she has no idea how other people see her (or Luc). She isn't aware of her feelings yet, but what happens here is supposed to make her start questioning them. That's the idea. It needs more meat, or at least more writing. Eh. This is a second draft, believe it or not. I ditched the first try because I suck with first-person POV.
(If this were a real story, there would be an introduction and setting.)
"Do you have the scroll, Sarah?"
"Yes," she answered immediately, stooping down to pick it up. She unrolled it slowly so it
wouldn't bend or crackle, and held it up to the meager candlelight shining from the stand
behind them. The outlines, dark and precise and marked in Luc's hand, outlined exactly what
she said.
Leknaat pointed to the Chizen star, and traced Luc's line down to its companion, as if she
could see it as clearly as Sarah did. "What is the deeper meaning behind this?"
She looked from the chart to Leknaat, and the faint glimmer of the jewel on her forehead.
/Companionship/. Was there a deeper meaning to that? It didn't look particularly
significant on this particular chart - the two stars were all by themselves in the northern
quadrant, and at this time of year, that area held little significance. "I'm sorry, I..."
"Companionship." Leknaat's hand dropped to her side. "The reference the stars make is
obscure, but in context with other events in this man's life, what do you think it means?"
Sarah sighed. "He just lost his wife, didn't he?" She usually didn't waste her time with
attempting to keep abreast of events concerning the nobility. Delivering these charts was
usually Luc's task, so naturally it didn't involve /her/ beyond fetching books for him now
and again. "Perhaps it means he will find a new companion to replace her."
The seeress nodded, and a slight smile creased the marble of her face. "I know you have
done your research - Luc would have nothing else. If he asks you to interpret for him, keep
that knowledge in mind and do your best. He knows your predictions will not be precise."
Did he really? In her experience, nobles were rarely so understanding. "I understand."
Sarah rolled the chart closed again and knelt down to retrieve the ribbon.
(Wow, there's a big hole here!)
... a white robe with a high collar, loose sleeves, and little embellishment. It was the
attire of an apprentice, functional and sturdy, even severe. But though it looked stiff and
uncomfortable, Luc had softened the design when he made it for her, citing practical
reasons: she would have to stand and wait for hours, bow, present the scroll, accept
whatever hospitality they offered, and so on. If she looked at all distressed or
uncomfortable, it would reflect badly on them.
Still, it was nice that he was concerned for her comfort. The visit, as it turned out, was
not nearly as bad as he made it out to be at first. The lord simply asked her a few
questions and shooed her out the door. It was his daughter she had forgotten to be wary of.
(Small leap~)
Previous experience spoke of another unfortunate truth: the only greater threat than a lord
was his lady.
"Where is the boy who usually brings father's charts?"
The demand brought Sarah up short, back stiffening at the imperious tone of voice. But what
she did reflected on Luc and Leknaat, and with that sobering thought in mind she turned
around to confront the owner of that voice and bowed just low enough to remain within the
bounds of courtesy. "He was unable to make the trip this month. We apologize."
The lord's daughter - 'Rose' they called her, though she didn't seem at all sweet - sniffed
and crossed her arms, giving the impression that she was looking down her nose at Sarah
despite being a bit shorter. "And who are you? You don't look like a seer."
Sarah clenched her teeth. Who did this little upstart think she was? "I am Luc's
assistant, and apprentice to Lady Leknaat."
"/You/?"
-----------------------
Sarah's kind of sheltered, and she has no idea how other people see her (or Luc). She isn't aware of her feelings yet, but what happens here is supposed to make her start questioning them. That's the idea. It needs more meat, or at least more writing. Eh. This is a second draft, believe it or not. I ditched the first try because I suck with first-person POV.
no subject
Keep building ^_^
no subject
Date: 2005-05-31 03:38 am (UTC)People tend not to comment much either way, though. An archive might not make a difference.