April Prose Contest (Locution)

I wrote this over the past few days for the contest I mentioned last post. It didn't go where I wanted it to, and it's more of a very short first chapter than a stand-alone story. Still, it was rather fun to write, if intensely frustrating at times. ^_^

More on the ending (or not-ending) below.

***

Maia slipped into the classroom and carefully shut the door behind her. She turned to face the clutter and sighed in relief. Just as she had thought—a thick layer of dust covered every surface, and all the desks were broken and pushed against the far wall. The University had many rooms such as these hidden at the ends of empty corridors, and Maia could be sure she wouldn’t be disturbed.

Moving into the middle of the room, she swallowed around the lump in her throat. Deep breaths, Maia, deep breaths. It was just twenty four hours, just a little extra time to study metallurgic and gemological magics before the exam that morning; soon to be tomorrow morning.

It’s not as if anyone will miss it. She fingered the pendant that hung around her neck on a long gold chain. A small sapphire, it didn’t seem much, but the spells within it were very rare. I’ll be returning it just a few minutes after taking it, at least as far as they’re concerned, she reassured herself. All the same, it made her nervous.

Maia watched the light refract in the pendant’s facets for a moment, calming her heart. With a final deep breath she closed her eyes, clenching the stone in her hand. Focusing her mind, she felt it begin to warm. “Just twenty four hours, that’s all I need,” she whispered. Sudden heat pierced her palm—she gasped in pain but did not let go—and the floor tilted beneath her sharply. She fell to her knees on the stone floor and groaned as the world slowly stopped spinning around her.

“Who are you?” demanded a voice.

Shakily Maia pushed herself up, letting the pendant swing free of her hand. She gaped. The clutter of the abandoned classroom was gone. She stood amongst shelves of scrolls and books, and before her sat a man. He wore a red tunic and on the desk in front of him lay several scrolls and writing instruments.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he said, punctuating his statement with a jab of his quill. He scowled at her silence.

“I—I—” Maia grabbed her satchel and held it in front of her.

“Guards!”

Maia jumped at his roar. Spurred into action, she ran to the door and flung it open. An arm reached for her but she ducked under it, skidding into the opposite wall. Men were shouting and yelling, and she caught a glimpse of several red uniforms as she fled.

Down one corridor, turn left at the end, through this room, then another, heart in her throat. She knew the University like her own hand, and this was it. But where were all the students and professors? Everywhere she ran there were men in red, all of them shocked or outraged at her presence. What was going on?

What have I done?

She stumbled into the kitchen. A cook screeched at her from behind a giant pot of stew, nearly thwacking her with a ladle. Maia fell back into a servant who swore.

“Watch where you’re going, will ya!”

Through the steam, past the dry heat of the giant ovens, out the servants’ entrance, shoes slapping the dirt. The street was as busy as she’d hoped, merchants, sellers, and customers all yelling over the din. Maia pushed her way through the crowd, glancing back. She saw the purple of the well-off and the browns of commoners, but no red.

Several streets away she dared to stop to catch her breath. Crouching on the stoop of a shop, she dangled the sapphire on its chain and stared. It was not supposed to do this. It did not have the power to change things like this. Maia looked around. This was Arriol City, no mistaking. And she had just escaped from the University, her University. But things aren’t right.

She watched a woman setting out vegetables on a stall opposite. Something was off about her clothes, about everyone’s clothing. Maia shook her head. And what about the men in red? Some wore armor, but there hadn’t been an army within the city since the reign of Duke Ochoa. Her history lessons with Professor Ibarra rang in her head.

“Duke Ochoa, who despised the work of mages, dissolved the University and used its buildings as his military headquarters. Our place of learning was only restored when his niece, our Duchess, overthrew him with the help of Haizea Inon.”

“No…” Maia whispered, feeling dazed. It wasn’t possible. She tucked the sapphire inside her blouse and jumped up, grabbing the sleeve of the first person to walk by. “What year is it? Please!”

The look the washerwoman gave her was full of pity. Maia was suddenly aware of her appearance; her skirt was rumpled and dirty where she’d fallen, and her hair was coming loose from its plait. The woman gently pulled her hand free and continued on. “Poor lass…”

The next woman spat at her feet, and the man that followed tried to give her a copper piece, which Maia refused. “I just need to know the year, please!”

“Three hundred an’ seventy eight, miss.”

Maia turned at the voice. A man leaned in the doorway she had just vacated, watching her with curiosity. Then the meaning of his words reached her, and Maia’s knees gave way.

“Steady on!” He stepped forward to grab her arm.

“Twenty four years,” she mumbled, swaying on her feet.

“What’s that, you say?” He peered at her and she gulped.

“Twenty four years. Not hours—years.” The world spun as the man helped her to the step where she collapsed.

“Easy there.” He patted her awkwardly on the shoulder and disappeared into the building, but Maia barely noticed.

There was no way back. The sapphire could only take one to the past, not the future. Her mother, her friends, her life, all gone. She wouldn’t see them again for twenty four years, all because she had wanted a bit more time. Maia laughed bitterly. Well, she certainly had more than enough now.

How could I have been so foolish?

Maia pulled her satchel to her and opened it. She searched through the scrolls and quills for the book she always carried with her. Her hand brushed the familiar worn leather, and she pulled it out slowly. She traced the title, “Haizea Inon,” and fought tears. Her mother had given it to her on her last birthday. As a child she’d asked for stories about the famous woman mage again and again. And now here she was, in Arriol before the unseating of the Duke. Of all the times to end up…

“What’s that?” The man was back, leaning over to look at the book.

“It’s nothing,” Maia said thickly. She went to put it away.

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

He reached out to take it and Maia panicked. He couldn’t read about things that hadn’t happened yet! “It’s a diary,” she blurted. “Private.”

The man drew back his hand. “Nice to meet you, Haizea Inon.” He smiled.

“Wait, no, I’m not—”

“If that’s not your name,” he said, pointing at the cover, “then whose diary is it?” His eyes were laughing at her. “Mayhap I can help you find the owner.”

“No, it is mine, I’m just not—”

“As I said, nice to meet you, Haizea Inon. I’m Ander Bakar.”

“I told you, I—” Maia stopped. Ander Bakar. It couldn’t be! Maia’s hands shook as she opened the book, flipping to the first page.

“Haizea Inon rode into Arriol as the sun set. On its streets she met Ander Bakar, a merchant. She was weary from her journey from a far off and distant land, and he offered her a room at his friend’s inn. The great mage told him that she was here to overthrow a tyrant, and he, like many others in the years to come, joined with her. He was to become her closest ally.”

Maia began to feel faint again. Fingers snapped in front of her face and she jumped. Ander Bakar, the Ander Bakar, stood over her, frowning.

“Do you have a place to stay? My friend runs an inn just around the corner. I wouldn’t feel well with myself if I just left you here, the state you’re in.”

Maia shook her head, mute. He pulled her to her feet and led her down the street.

“So what’s your business here in our lovely city?”

“I think—I think I’m here to overthrow the Duke,” she whispered.

***

Technically I shouldn't really have ended it here. It gives a different impression than the one I would like to give. The twist is that the stories she knows, the ones she learned and the ones in the book, aren't entirely accurate. They sanitize things--Ander is a buyer and seller of questionable merchandise (aka a thief), not a merchant; right after this line he laughs uproariously and says she's mad, instead of saying "okay, when can we start?" And all the adventures she has as Haizea turn out in entirely different ways than she expects, making it almost as difficult and confusing as it would be if she didn't have the book and knowledge of the future. Sometimes it's even more confusing.

Basically, if I wanted to I could write a novel based on this idea. I might one day, when I have more of the details worked out...

Translation

So! I have not written for... quite a while. I could beat myself up about it, but that's not productive, so no worries. 

There's a contest going on at Locution at the moment, so I'm trying to write something for it. Not sure if this will end up being my entry—at the moment I'm just thinking of it as a warm up, to get back into writing (again).

***

Stacy rubbed her eyes stared blearily at the metal table in front of her. She was in a windowless room God knew where, and there was no coffee. Who drags someone out of their bed at three in the morning and shuttles them off to a government facility without offering them cup of coffee? Stacy frowned. The brass wanted help—for what they had yet to say—but how they expected her to think in these conditions she didn’t know.

The door clicked open; Stacy glanced up and did a double-take. “Alec?”

He had the nerve to grin. “How’s it going, Stace?” he asked, sliding into the seat across from her and slapping a folder onto the table.

“That’s Dr. Evans to you.” Stacy shifted in her seat and crossed her arms, glaring.

“Touchy!” Alec didn’t stop smiling, the bastard.

“I was abducted in the middle of the night by the military. I think I have a right to be touchy. Why the hell am I here, Alec?”

Alec had the grace to look a little uncomfortable. “Abducted is a bit harsh, Doctor. We knocked on the door, didn’t we? And I’m sure someone explained that we needed your help.”

“Ha! That’s hardly an explanation. So come on, spit it out. How can such a humble scientist help the likes of you?”

Shooting a glance at the camera in the corner, Alec leaned closer. “Come on, Stace, please. Just—just forget about us for a second. I told them you were the best, and I thought you’d find this interesting, and…” He trailed off.

Stacy sighed and turned her attention to the folder. She flipped open the cover, ignoring Alec for the moment. There were some photos of a crater and some sort of meteor. There were other papers, but Stacy didn’t bother reading them.

“I’m a linguist, not a geologist. Next time wake up someone else.”

***

Not much... ah well~ I got distracted reading up about linguistics. Reading this, I wonder if I haven't unintentionally followed the optional prompt... ^_^