More 750 Words. Very rough.
***
That bitch stole my name. Haizea Inon. I can tell you've heard of her. Of course you have. Everyone in this gods-forsaken country has heard of Haizea Inon, the girl mage, scourge of Duke Ochoa, fighter for the people.
Bitch.
When it was my name it was just Haizea Inon. No pretentious titles, no fame, no ballads or stories, no whispered, hopeful rumors. That suited me just fine.
I met the bitch three years ago in a pub called The Marksman. It's far away from here, in the capital. Have you been? Good-- don't bother, Arriol isn't worth the journey. The Marksman was like the rest of that hole, filthy and dank and depressing.
She was sitting at my table. Our table. I told her to move. Ander Bakar, my partner, told me I was being mean to the "poor lass." She did look poor, hair falling out of her braid, dirt on her clothes and smudging her cheeks. She looked lost. I noticed, since my job means I have to notice things, but I didn't like the way Ander said "poor lass," and so we bickered.
At some point I said his name, and he said mine, and there was a gasp. We'd nearly forgotten about her. She looked from me to him and back to me again. "You're Haizea Inon?" she asked.
No one knew my full name. Not even Ander. My family name was my secret, and I hid it to hide my past. My given name I kept close to me as well. In my line of work it doesn't do to be well-known. A famous thief is a thief hanging with a noose around her neck.
If I had been the murdering type I'd have lured her to a back alley and slit her throat. Don't look at me like that. I said "if." I didn't murder. It made things messy, and I'd seen how it complicated jobs.
'Course, the girl didn't know that. So I pulled out my knife, and in that dim corner of The Marksman I held its sharp edge to where her heartbeat fluttered at her throat. Oh, I've wished many nights since then that I'd cut it.
"Never say that name again," I said. Very threatening it was. Her face was pale and she shook on her seat. And Ander took her side, eyes wide.
She was half his age! Ander and I had a past, and yet he sided with this little chit. I left her cowering in the corner and walked out. He was slow to follow, which should have warned me. The bitch already had him.
The day earlier we'd acquired an amulet. Magic, of course. Powerful, too. I wasn't interested in what it could do, though, only how much gold it could get me in the next fiefdom over. Ander wanted to stay longer in Arriol. He said we could use the amulet ourselves, do something about that silly Duke of theirs. It was his home fiefdom, and he had a sentimentality about it.
I'd been considering it. Sooner or later he would get bored, I thought. We could move on to new jobs, and things would stay like they had always been. But now. Now someone knew my name. I didn't know how, but I wanted the hell out of town.
She followed us. I was walking briskly, Ander trailing behind. "We're leaving," I said. He asked what about the Duke, and then she appeared at his elbow.
"You can't leave! You have to fight the Duke!" she said.
Who was she to tell me what I should do? Bitch. Anyway, long story short, I left that night, and Ander stayed with her. It was doomed to failure, and I figured he'd get what he deserved. Figured they both would.
You going to drink that? Thanks. God, this stuff tastes like shit. Barkeep! Where the hell is he...
Anyway, I left. Good riddance, right? But then I heard rumors. People were talking about me. Haizea Inon. There were wanted posters with my name on it. Not my face, though. Her face.
Do you know what it feels like to have your name stolen? I could have been her. I would have stayed.
***
I'm not really sure about this piece. It started off well, or at least different, which I like. Different is good. It loses something in the middle. Ah well.
It's a weird experiment based on a time travel fantasy I wrote a while back. A girl named Maia goes back in time only to find she has to fulfill the role of her hero, Haizea Inon. In the short story there was no original Haizea Inon, but here I started playing around with an idea--that Haizea Inon is a thief who would never have done the things Maia knew her hero to do, and Maia is forced to take her place in history.
So, yeah. Messed around with second person a bit, and trying to inject bitterness into things, as well as unreliable narrator (Haizea would never have stayed.) It didn't go in the same direction as it did when I was writing it in my head, but oh well~
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
750 Words, and Talking Trees
I've been remiss in my New Years Resolution, but for the past 5 days I've been taking part in 750 Words. I've been mostly treating it like a journal, so it doesn't produce much creative writing, but the statistics aspect is pretty interesting, even if it is a bit unsophisticated.
I was going the writing on my hard drive today and found this. I don't know where I was going with it, but I'm going to see where it takes me now.
***
"Come on, Mandy!" Elise tugged at Mandy's hand as she led her down the path towards the woods. Mandy followed behind obediently, wondering what her little sister's imagination had conjured up this time.
"What are you taking me to see? Are the fairies back?" she asked. Last summer Elise had invented a fairy community in the woods near their village. They had visited it almost every day, trying to catch a glimpse of a delicate wing tip or an acorn hat or a tiny footprint.
"No, silly; those weren't real." Elise stopped and turned around to look up at Mandy. She was frowning, obviously put out that Mandy had not realized this earlier.
"Oh," said Mandy, at a loss. At fourteen she knew there were no such things as fairies, but Elise had believed in them so she had always played along. When had Elise shed that illusion?
"Well, what have you found now?"
Elise grinned, pulling her hand free. She ran to the trees, shouting back, "You'll see!"
Mandy caught up with her just as the path became littered with leaves. She took her cue from Elise, and they both proceeded cautiously into the cool shade. Their tip-toeing feet made little noise on the tamped down earth, and the birds were quiet. The stillness struck her as odd and unease prickled up Mandy's spine, but she shook it off.
The path wound between the trees, taking them further into the dimness. A breeze began to blow through the canopy, and the rustling of the leaves reminded Mandy of people whispering. She was startled when Elise spoke, echoing her thoughts.
"The trees are talking," she said, her voice hushed.
"What are they saying?"
Elise paused, then stepped off the path. She strode up to the nearest tree, a beech, and stopped before it. She reached around the trunk as if she were hugging it, and Mandy had to stifle a laugh; Elise's arms didn't even make it halfway around its girth. Elise glanced back reproachfully and put her finger up to her lips before resuming her position, one ear against the smooth bark.
At first, nothing happened. Mandy stood watching, and Elise stood listening, and the branches swept back and forth above them. After a minute or so, however, there was a change, and the gentle swishing of the tree tops became louder as the wind grew stronger. The roar swelled not unlike the sound of waves crashing on the beach; it rose then fell, only to rise again. Unnerved, Mandy picked her way through the scrub to Elise’s side. The young girl's face was scrunched up in concentration, eyes screwed shut.
"Elise. I think we should go," Mandy said, raising her voice over the roar.
Elise opened her eyes. "But they're talking!" She went to put her head back against the trunk, but Mandy grabbed her arm.
"Not now, Elise! There must be a storm coming; we have to get home!"
"But—"
"Not now!" Her heart thumping in her chest, Mandy pulled Elise away from the tree and back to the path. Twigs reached for their clothes and Mandy stumbled on a root.
Elise twisted in her grip, digging her heels into the earth. "Mandy, no!" Above them tree limbs whipped into a fury, and a branch crashed to the ground a few feet from them. Trees groaned as they leaned in the wind, and it felt as if Mandy's breath was being stolen from her lungs.
Pushing and pulling, Mandy dragged Elise along the path a few feet at a time, her sister flailing, yelling. Tears ran down the girl's face, and Mandy looked away, fear clawing at her throat. Leaves rained down on them, so thick Mandy couldn't see the sky. She batted at them with her hand, nearly at the edge of the wood—
And Elise yanked her arm free.
The screaming wind stopped at once. Mandy stood gasping as the final leaves fluttered to the ground around her. Her ears rang in the silence. "Elise? Elise, where are you?" She stumbled in a circle, the tree trunks a blur.
"Elise!"
Mandy ran back into the trees, her shuddering breaths loud in her ears. She reached the beech in less than a minute, but no one was there. "Elise?"
A great sigh rustled the boughs of the trees, and Mandy froze. In between the roots of the tree, where Elise had been standing with her ear to the bark, was a sapling. Its leaves waved in the breeze before falling still.
***
Bleh. I hate it when I have an ending in mind, but I don't manage to do it justice. Guess that's what editing is for, right?
I was going the writing on my hard drive today and found this. I don't know where I was going with it, but I'm going to see where it takes me now.
***
"Come on, Mandy!" Elise tugged at Mandy's hand as she led her down the path towards the woods. Mandy followed behind obediently, wondering what her little sister's imagination had conjured up this time.
"What are you taking me to see? Are the fairies back?" she asked. Last summer Elise had invented a fairy community in the woods near their village. They had visited it almost every day, trying to catch a glimpse of a delicate wing tip or an acorn hat or a tiny footprint.
"No, silly; those weren't real." Elise stopped and turned around to look up at Mandy. She was frowning, obviously put out that Mandy had not realized this earlier.
"Oh," said Mandy, at a loss. At fourteen she knew there were no such things as fairies, but Elise had believed in them so she had always played along. When had Elise shed that illusion?
"Well, what have you found now?"
Elise grinned, pulling her hand free. She ran to the trees, shouting back, "You'll see!"
Mandy caught up with her just as the path became littered with leaves. She took her cue from Elise, and they both proceeded cautiously into the cool shade. Their tip-toeing feet made little noise on the tamped down earth, and the birds were quiet. The stillness struck her as odd and unease prickled up Mandy's spine, but she shook it off.
The path wound between the trees, taking them further into the dimness. A breeze began to blow through the canopy, and the rustling of the leaves reminded Mandy of people whispering. She was startled when Elise spoke, echoing her thoughts.
"The trees are talking," she said, her voice hushed.
"What are they saying?"
Elise paused, then stepped off the path. She strode up to the nearest tree, a beech, and stopped before it. She reached around the trunk as if she were hugging it, and Mandy had to stifle a laugh; Elise's arms didn't even make it halfway around its girth. Elise glanced back reproachfully and put her finger up to her lips before resuming her position, one ear against the smooth bark.
At first, nothing happened. Mandy stood watching, and Elise stood listening, and the branches swept back and forth above them. After a minute or so, however, there was a change, and the gentle swishing of the tree tops became louder as the wind grew stronger. The roar swelled not unlike the sound of waves crashing on the beach; it rose then fell, only to rise again. Unnerved, Mandy picked her way through the scrub to Elise’s side. The young girl's face was scrunched up in concentration, eyes screwed shut.
"Elise. I think we should go," Mandy said, raising her voice over the roar.
Elise opened her eyes. "But they're talking!" She went to put her head back against the trunk, but Mandy grabbed her arm.
"Not now, Elise! There must be a storm coming; we have to get home!"
"But—"
"Not now!" Her heart thumping in her chest, Mandy pulled Elise away from the tree and back to the path. Twigs reached for their clothes and Mandy stumbled on a root.
Elise twisted in her grip, digging her heels into the earth. "Mandy, no!" Above them tree limbs whipped into a fury, and a branch crashed to the ground a few feet from them. Trees groaned as they leaned in the wind, and it felt as if Mandy's breath was being stolen from her lungs.
Pushing and pulling, Mandy dragged Elise along the path a few feet at a time, her sister flailing, yelling. Tears ran down the girl's face, and Mandy looked away, fear clawing at her throat. Leaves rained down on them, so thick Mandy couldn't see the sky. She batted at them with her hand, nearly at the edge of the wood—
And Elise yanked her arm free.
The screaming wind stopped at once. Mandy stood gasping as the final leaves fluttered to the ground around her. Her ears rang in the silence. "Elise? Elise, where are you?" She stumbled in a circle, the tree trunks a blur.
"Elise!"
Mandy ran back into the trees, her shuddering breaths loud in her ears. She reached the beech in less than a minute, but no one was there. "Elise?"
A great sigh rustled the boughs of the trees, and Mandy froze. In between the roots of the tree, where Elise had been standing with her ear to the bark, was a sapling. Its leaves waved in the breeze before falling still.
***
Bleh. I hate it when I have an ending in mind, but I don't manage to do it justice. Guess that's what editing is for, right?
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