esp_dragon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
esp_dragon) wrote2011-11-02 09:10 pm
esp_dragon) wrote2011-11-02 09:10 pm
Chosen [Part 2]
Fandom: Original
Summary: Ras has just been chosen by the Gods to protect humans from geists, beings that prey on people's souls. Sent by Them to aid her is Aldran, a psyven; through the bond forged on their first meeting, Aldran can pass his magic to Ras for her to use against the geists. Only those bonded with psyvens can fight the geists, as a psyven's magic is the one magic that is truly effective against them.
But stories are told to children to placate fears and soothe nightmares. Ras has to learn that Aldran and living as a khertan are not what she expected and that the danger is very real.
While she adjusts to her new life, she and Aldran begin to discover all is not as it seems; however, realising and accepting the truth is not easy and ultimately, in the end, is it worth it?
Rating: PG
Notes: You can find them all on my personal journal. XDD
Genre: Fantasy
Word count: 2,439
Total word count: 5,365
Status: Work in progress
Ah. That, Ras could understand. She picked up one dagger and looked at it. The hilt was unadorned and simple, made to be a weapon, not a decoration; the blade was about the span of her hand. Its weight didn't pull her arm down and she twisted her wrist to see how it felt. It was different from a knife, especially since she'd never entertained thoughts about using it on a living being though. Although…
"Are geists living?" she asked, sliding the dagger back into its sheath. This one would hopefully do. When Ras looked up, she saw Aldran studying some of the longer blades a little distance away from her, his tail tip curling and straightening over and over again.
"In the sense that they have a living heart, yes," Ceilha said dryly, watching Aldran. "They bleed too, though their blood glows faintly, not like ours." When Aldran picked up a blade she continued. "Don't assume that these will be effective against them - they're not. They're last measues - the geists heal extremely quickly from wounds not from psyven magic, so they're useful for making them keep the geists keep their distance, but nothing more."
While Ras tied the sheath to her belt, she asked, "How long does it take for them to heal?"
Ceilha flicked her eyes to Ras as she scuffed her boot across the floor. "From a weapon wound? After they've just fed, it only takes them a few minutes before the wound is completely sealed over. And the only time we can find them is after they've fed."
Ras frowned at her words. "There isn't - we can't know there's a geist somewhere before they attack?" She knew that geists looked very close to human, but surely there was something that could be looked for before people died.
Ceilha shook her head. "In terms of looks, there is very few that set geists apart from humans: their skin is slightly greyer than ours, more pronounced fangs, and slitted eyes - the first two can be easily hidden, and so can the third behind a lowered head or merely not looking at sometime directly." She pursed her lips. "The only way we know there's a geist somewhere is what happens to their victims."
That... It churned Ras' stomach hearing that, that it wasn't so easily preventable. How many people did she know that acted like that? Aldran himself was like that, though there wasn't a chance that he was a geist! No-one would suspect a quiet, shy person, or expect them to be a geist.
She heard Aldran's quiet footfalls stop beside her - he had picked a blade the same length as hers, though it looked heavier.
"Are both of you ready?"
They nodded.
"Good," Ceilha said, leading the way out the room. "Now we're going to have breakfast."
Ras hoped Ceilha hadn't been able to hear her stomach rumbling…
* * *
The hall was in the beginning stages of bustling, but it was easy to find places to sit. Everyone looked like they'd just rolled out of bed, still half asleep and not awake yet.
"Don't worry," Dracer said across from Ras, her lips pulled up in a teasing smile, "You're going to be like that in about a week's time."
"It's really hard work then," Ras said as she chewed slowly around her food, still discreetly watching people. Aldran was on her other side, poking at the food on his plate, his tail curled partly around the chair leg, maybe to make sure it stayed out of the way. She was still surprised he even ate, and when she'd made that comment, both Ceilha and Dracer had laughed. Ceilha had thought the same thing when she was first chosen as a khertan.
Ceilha hummed in acknowledgement. "It's both that, and the fact that our numbers are far lower than the geists' - we're constantly being called to fight them, with little break between each one."
Oh. "The Gods don't choose more khertan?"
Both Ceilha and Dracer shook their heads. "They choose however many They think is needed," Ceilha said, her thumb tapping on her spoon. "We're enough."
But not enough for it to be comfortable; Ras could see that much.
"And knowing how things are, we're going to be called much sooner than later," Ceilha said, setting her spoon down, "so you should know about your magic."
Dracer nodded and leaned forward, Aldran doing the same. Ras tuned out Dracer was saying as best as she could as Ceilha continued to speak. "You have a link to Aldran's magic, and you can call it to you on instinct, but it works best if you are both in agreement and know when to call it."
Ras tried to puzzle that out, not quite understanding. "Wouldn't it be best if we constantly kept the link open?" That way, she would always be ready to fight.
"No," Ceilha said quickly, pursing her lips. "Holding the link open and holding onto your magic like that would drain both of you far too quickly. You wouldn’t even be able to do that for half-an-hour before collapsing. Which leads me to my next point: casting magic is very draining for you – this you have to understand. If you throw too much magic around, it may not be the geist that kills you, but your own foolishness."
But if she needed to use Aldran's magic… "There's a lot I need to remember," Ras said worriedly, biting the inside of her cheek. If she forgot any of it, people would die because of her.
"You'll get used to it in time," Ceilha reassured her. "They'll eventually become so normal to you that you don't even think about it anymore."
It really didn't seem like it to Ras, and it didn't abate the queasiness in her stomach any either. She left the rest of her plate untouched, not that she had been eating a lot of it anyway.
"I think you're the youngest khertan here at the moment," Ceilha mused, glancing around the hall.
"Really?" Ras spluttered. She was only past her twenties – which, when she thought about it, actually put part of her mind at ease. The thought of people younger than her fighting against the geists…
"Yes." Ceilha drew the word out, still not paying her full attention. "But then, most khertan don't live much past their forties."
Ras stilled, her thoughts halting. "How long…does a khertan normally live for?" she asked quietly, not sure if Ceilha would even be able to hear her over the other conversations and clatter of cutlery.
Ceilha froze and her eyes flashed to Ras' before she winced. "Ah, that was probably not the best thing to say on your first day…"
"No, I-" Ras frowned, not sure what she was trying to say. She was quiet for a moment as she gathered up her thoughts. "I need to know this – if I were to take this lightly, then I could die."
"That's a good outlook to have." When Ras looked up at Ceilha, she had her fingers twined around each other, her thumbs tapping. "As for your question… The average lifespan of a khertan is somewhere in their thirties. Lesten is one of the oldest – he's in his late thirties.
"Late-" Ras repeated, gaping at Ceilha. That couldn't be right. "He looks more like-" She cut herself off before she said something embarrassing.
"In his sixties or older?" Ceilha finished for her dryly, the corners of her lips twitching.
"I – uh-" Ras had been more leaning towards saying 'grandfather', but if Ceilha wasn't to put it more kindly, Ras wasn't going to correct her.
Ceilha's smile faded and her expression grew distant. "This life is not stress-free –not that anyone but the richest can deny that- but this life takes its toll in a myriad of different ways. Less sleep, our sleep isn't as restful, our bodies are barely allowed any rest, the magic themselves…" She shook her head. "There is a lot that shortens our lifespan, and not much we can do about it."
Bar from running, Ras mused, but that wasn't an option. Being chosen as a khertan was an honour, something that everyone dreamed might happen to them at some point in their life. But then, that was because they had the image of the shining aura and being chosen because they were perfect. The reality, Ras was finding out, was very different.
"I think those are the very important points that you need to know – if not, I'll tell you them as I remember them. And if you have any questions, just ask me. Asking a simple question is a lot more preferable than not asking, especially if the answer may or may not get you killed."
"All right. It's good know I can ask you." It settled Ras somewhat, knowing that. Not by a lot, but it eased her mind.
Whatever Ceilha was about to say was cut off when her necklace started glowing a light green. Both of their necklaces, actually, Ras realised, looking down.
"And as I said," Ceilha said dryly as she stood up, "we're going to be called sooner than later."
Ras couldn't stop her eyes widening. "Now?" She practically squeaked. They were getting called to fight the geists now? But – it had barely been a day since she'd been called and – and there wasn't much she could do. She couldn't refuse, and the only way for her to learn properly would be to be in the situations, not to hear of what she should do when the time came. The thoughts didn't calm her down that much, but she kept repeating them to herself anyway as she stood up and followed Ceilha.
Aldran couldn't seem to decide on whether he should be following after her or not, sometimes a step behind, sometimes walking beside her.
"I don't mind where you are," Ras whispered clumsily, once Aldran was next to her again. Aldran didn’t answer, save for turning his head towards her slightly – he didn't move away though, keeping at the same pace, which relieved Ras. If Aldran was thinking he should defer to her… She hid a sigh, hoping Aldran didn't hear it and think it was caused by him – though it was, but not in a negative way. She should talk to him about this, though when exactly would they have some time alone, or be hurrying from one place to another? There had to be some quiet periods at some point in the near future.
Ras tried to pay as much attention as she could to her surroundings, memorising the direction they were going. "Is there a map of here?" she eventually asked as they went around another corner. She was decent enough at knowing her way around once she had been to a place a number of times, but she didn't want to stumble around for too long, especially if lives were at stake and she couldn't even find her way to the front door.
"There should be one in your room, on the desk," Ceilha told her. "If there isn't, ask at the library."
It was good advice, but there was one problem with that. "…And how do I find the library?"
At that response, Ceilha laughed. "That's a good point. If you can bump into a mage, they can easily direct you there – chances are, they will have just left the library or are going there anyway. If not, head to the east wing and you will eventually find it, if only because that's where everyone else is going."
It was a little too vague for Ras, but it wasn't as if she could ask to be shown where it was at that particular moment.
Ras' eye was drawn towards a door they were walking in the direction of, golden lines carved into the wood, glowing with magic. It fanned out from the door handles like flames, spreading past the doorframes and onto the wall. With every step they took that brought them closer to it, Ras could feel something, a thrum that half-resonated with what they were approaching, but it was off, like water washing off a stone; she could feel it, but she couldn't grasp it.
"Magic," Ceilha supplied, stopping a few steps away from the door, and Ras brought her attention back to her. "You're feeling the magic given off by the mages creating the teleportation spell."
"Huh." Ras gingerly attempted to see if she could use the magic like she could Aldran's magic, but nothing happened. "It's…different?" Before, Ras hadn't known that there were differences between magics, and now she knew and could feel it without even seeing it with her own eyes.
"That's because they are," Dracer informed her. "Their magic comes from within them, while your magic comes from a link to a psyven. They have the same outcome –mostly- but they have a difference source."
Oh. With that question answered, they went into the room. Inside, the magic was almost palatable, making Ras feel like she was wrapped up in a winter blanket. The golden lines encompassed everything; the walls, floor, and right up to the ceiling were covered in a swirling pattern that Ras could recognise, but not understand. In the very middle of the room the lines thickened considerably, marking out a circle, two mages standing around its edge. A third was bustling around the sole table in the room, the sound of jingling coins clear. Directly above the circle, Ras could see the outline of Heast, one spot within it brighter than the rest.
"You're going to Jonset," the mage closest to them said, studying the map. "There's only been one feeding so far, so it should be an easy trip between the four of you."
Ras didn't like the sound of the 'should', but it was better than 'maybe' and definitely better than 'won't'.
"Okay," Ceilha said, nodding to him. "All you have to do is stand in the circle," she continued, turning to Ras and Aldran. "The mages will do the rest. But this way of travel is rather abrupt."
That was it? It sounded simple enough. She followed Ceilha and Dracer into the circle, it being big enough to probably fit a dozen people, Aldran not falling behind this time.
As they crossed the boundary, the three mages placed themselves an equal distance away from each other, their eyes closed. On an unknown signal, they breathed out slowly, raising their hands to parallel the circle. At once, the circle sparked, brightening even more.
Summary: Ras has just been chosen by the Gods to protect humans from geists, beings that prey on people's souls. Sent by Them to aid her is Aldran, a psyven; through the bond forged on their first meeting, Aldran can pass his magic to Ras for her to use against the geists. Only those bonded with psyvens can fight the geists, as a psyven's magic is the one magic that is truly effective against them.
But stories are told to children to placate fears and soothe nightmares. Ras has to learn that Aldran and living as a khertan are not what she expected and that the danger is very real.
While she adjusts to her new life, she and Aldran begin to discover all is not as it seems; however, realising and accepting the truth is not easy and ultimately, in the end, is it worth it?
Rating: PG
Notes: You can find them all on my personal journal. XDD
Genre: Fantasy
Word count: 2,439
Total word count: 5,365
Status: Work in progress
Ah. That, Ras could understand. She picked up one dagger and looked at it. The hilt was unadorned and simple, made to be a weapon, not a decoration; the blade was about the span of her hand. Its weight didn't pull her arm down and she twisted her wrist to see how it felt. It was different from a knife, especially since she'd never entertained thoughts about using it on a living being though. Although…
"Are geists living?" she asked, sliding the dagger back into its sheath. This one would hopefully do. When Ras looked up, she saw Aldran studying some of the longer blades a little distance away from her, his tail tip curling and straightening over and over again.
"In the sense that they have a living heart, yes," Ceilha said dryly, watching Aldran. "They bleed too, though their blood glows faintly, not like ours." When Aldran picked up a blade she continued. "Don't assume that these will be effective against them - they're not. They're last measues - the geists heal extremely quickly from wounds not from psyven magic, so they're useful for making them keep the geists keep their distance, but nothing more."
While Ras tied the sheath to her belt, she asked, "How long does it take for them to heal?"
Ceilha flicked her eyes to Ras as she scuffed her boot across the floor. "From a weapon wound? After they've just fed, it only takes them a few minutes before the wound is completely sealed over. And the only time we can find them is after they've fed."
Ras frowned at her words. "There isn't - we can't know there's a geist somewhere before they attack?" She knew that geists looked very close to human, but surely there was something that could be looked for before people died.
Ceilha shook her head. "In terms of looks, there is very few that set geists apart from humans: their skin is slightly greyer than ours, more pronounced fangs, and slitted eyes - the first two can be easily hidden, and so can the third behind a lowered head or merely not looking at sometime directly." She pursed her lips. "The only way we know there's a geist somewhere is what happens to their victims."
That... It churned Ras' stomach hearing that, that it wasn't so easily preventable. How many people did she know that acted like that? Aldran himself was like that, though there wasn't a chance that he was a geist! No-one would suspect a quiet, shy person, or expect them to be a geist.
She heard Aldran's quiet footfalls stop beside her - he had picked a blade the same length as hers, though it looked heavier.
"Are both of you ready?"
They nodded.
"Good," Ceilha said, leading the way out the room. "Now we're going to have breakfast."
Ras hoped Ceilha hadn't been able to hear her stomach rumbling…
The hall was in the beginning stages of bustling, but it was easy to find places to sit. Everyone looked like they'd just rolled out of bed, still half asleep and not awake yet.
"Don't worry," Dracer said across from Ras, her lips pulled up in a teasing smile, "You're going to be like that in about a week's time."
"It's really hard work then," Ras said as she chewed slowly around her food, still discreetly watching people. Aldran was on her other side, poking at the food on his plate, his tail curled partly around the chair leg, maybe to make sure it stayed out of the way. She was still surprised he even ate, and when she'd made that comment, both Ceilha and Dracer had laughed. Ceilha had thought the same thing when she was first chosen as a khertan.
Ceilha hummed in acknowledgement. "It's both that, and the fact that our numbers are far lower than the geists' - we're constantly being called to fight them, with little break between each one."
Oh. "The Gods don't choose more khertan?"
Both Ceilha and Dracer shook their heads. "They choose however many They think is needed," Ceilha said, her thumb tapping on her spoon. "We're enough."
But not enough for it to be comfortable; Ras could see that much.
"And knowing how things are, we're going to be called much sooner than later," Ceilha said, setting her spoon down, "so you should know about your magic."
Dracer nodded and leaned forward, Aldran doing the same. Ras tuned out Dracer was saying as best as she could as Ceilha continued to speak. "You have a link to Aldran's magic, and you can call it to you on instinct, but it works best if you are both in agreement and know when to call it."
Ras tried to puzzle that out, not quite understanding. "Wouldn't it be best if we constantly kept the link open?" That way, she would always be ready to fight.
"No," Ceilha said quickly, pursing her lips. "Holding the link open and holding onto your magic like that would drain both of you far too quickly. You wouldn’t even be able to do that for half-an-hour before collapsing. Which leads me to my next point: casting magic is very draining for you – this you have to understand. If you throw too much magic around, it may not be the geist that kills you, but your own foolishness."
But if she needed to use Aldran's magic… "There's a lot I need to remember," Ras said worriedly, biting the inside of her cheek. If she forgot any of it, people would die because of her.
"You'll get used to it in time," Ceilha reassured her. "They'll eventually become so normal to you that you don't even think about it anymore."
It really didn't seem like it to Ras, and it didn't abate the queasiness in her stomach any either. She left the rest of her plate untouched, not that she had been eating a lot of it anyway.
"I think you're the youngest khertan here at the moment," Ceilha mused, glancing around the hall.
"Really?" Ras spluttered. She was only past her twenties – which, when she thought about it, actually put part of her mind at ease. The thought of people younger than her fighting against the geists…
"Yes." Ceilha drew the word out, still not paying her full attention. "But then, most khertan don't live much past their forties."
Ras stilled, her thoughts halting. "How long…does a khertan normally live for?" she asked quietly, not sure if Ceilha would even be able to hear her over the other conversations and clatter of cutlery.
Ceilha froze and her eyes flashed to Ras' before she winced. "Ah, that was probably not the best thing to say on your first day…"
"No, I-" Ras frowned, not sure what she was trying to say. She was quiet for a moment as she gathered up her thoughts. "I need to know this – if I were to take this lightly, then I could die."
"That's a good outlook to have." When Ras looked up at Ceilha, she had her fingers twined around each other, her thumbs tapping. "As for your question… The average lifespan of a khertan is somewhere in their thirties. Lesten is one of the oldest – he's in his late thirties.
"Late-" Ras repeated, gaping at Ceilha. That couldn't be right. "He looks more like-" She cut herself off before she said something embarrassing.
"In his sixties or older?" Ceilha finished for her dryly, the corners of her lips twitching.
"I – uh-" Ras had been more leaning towards saying 'grandfather', but if Ceilha wasn't to put it more kindly, Ras wasn't going to correct her.
Ceilha's smile faded and her expression grew distant. "This life is not stress-free –not that anyone but the richest can deny that- but this life takes its toll in a myriad of different ways. Less sleep, our sleep isn't as restful, our bodies are barely allowed any rest, the magic themselves…" She shook her head. "There is a lot that shortens our lifespan, and not much we can do about it."
Bar from running, Ras mused, but that wasn't an option. Being chosen as a khertan was an honour, something that everyone dreamed might happen to them at some point in their life. But then, that was because they had the image of the shining aura and being chosen because they were perfect. The reality, Ras was finding out, was very different.
"I think those are the very important points that you need to know – if not, I'll tell you them as I remember them. And if you have any questions, just ask me. Asking a simple question is a lot more preferable than not asking, especially if the answer may or may not get you killed."
"All right. It's good know I can ask you." It settled Ras somewhat, knowing that. Not by a lot, but it eased her mind.
Whatever Ceilha was about to say was cut off when her necklace started glowing a light green. Both of their necklaces, actually, Ras realised, looking down.
"And as I said," Ceilha said dryly as she stood up, "we're going to be called sooner than later."
Ras couldn't stop her eyes widening. "Now?" She practically squeaked. They were getting called to fight the geists now? But – it had barely been a day since she'd been called and – and there wasn't much she could do. She couldn't refuse, and the only way for her to learn properly would be to be in the situations, not to hear of what she should do when the time came. The thoughts didn't calm her down that much, but she kept repeating them to herself anyway as she stood up and followed Ceilha.
Aldran couldn't seem to decide on whether he should be following after her or not, sometimes a step behind, sometimes walking beside her.
"I don't mind where you are," Ras whispered clumsily, once Aldran was next to her again. Aldran didn’t answer, save for turning his head towards her slightly – he didn't move away though, keeping at the same pace, which relieved Ras. If Aldran was thinking he should defer to her… She hid a sigh, hoping Aldran didn't hear it and think it was caused by him – though it was, but not in a negative way. She should talk to him about this, though when exactly would they have some time alone, or be hurrying from one place to another? There had to be some quiet periods at some point in the near future.
Ras tried to pay as much attention as she could to her surroundings, memorising the direction they were going. "Is there a map of here?" she eventually asked as they went around another corner. She was decent enough at knowing her way around once she had been to a place a number of times, but she didn't want to stumble around for too long, especially if lives were at stake and she couldn't even find her way to the front door.
"There should be one in your room, on the desk," Ceilha told her. "If there isn't, ask at the library."
It was good advice, but there was one problem with that. "…And how do I find the library?"
At that response, Ceilha laughed. "That's a good point. If you can bump into a mage, they can easily direct you there – chances are, they will have just left the library or are going there anyway. If not, head to the east wing and you will eventually find it, if only because that's where everyone else is going."
It was a little too vague for Ras, but it wasn't as if she could ask to be shown where it was at that particular moment.
Ras' eye was drawn towards a door they were walking in the direction of, golden lines carved into the wood, glowing with magic. It fanned out from the door handles like flames, spreading past the doorframes and onto the wall. With every step they took that brought them closer to it, Ras could feel something, a thrum that half-resonated with what they were approaching, but it was off, like water washing off a stone; she could feel it, but she couldn't grasp it.
"Magic," Ceilha supplied, stopping a few steps away from the door, and Ras brought her attention back to her. "You're feeling the magic given off by the mages creating the teleportation spell."
"Huh." Ras gingerly attempted to see if she could use the magic like she could Aldran's magic, but nothing happened. "It's…different?" Before, Ras hadn't known that there were differences between magics, and now she knew and could feel it without even seeing it with her own eyes.
"That's because they are," Dracer informed her. "Their magic comes from within them, while your magic comes from a link to a psyven. They have the same outcome –mostly- but they have a difference source."
Oh. With that question answered, they went into the room. Inside, the magic was almost palatable, making Ras feel like she was wrapped up in a winter blanket. The golden lines encompassed everything; the walls, floor, and right up to the ceiling were covered in a swirling pattern that Ras could recognise, but not understand. In the very middle of the room the lines thickened considerably, marking out a circle, two mages standing around its edge. A third was bustling around the sole table in the room, the sound of jingling coins clear. Directly above the circle, Ras could see the outline of Heast, one spot within it brighter than the rest.
"You're going to Jonset," the mage closest to them said, studying the map. "There's only been one feeding so far, so it should be an easy trip between the four of you."
Ras didn't like the sound of the 'should', but it was better than 'maybe' and definitely better than 'won't'.
"Okay," Ceilha said, nodding to him. "All you have to do is stand in the circle," she continued, turning to Ras and Aldran. "The mages will do the rest. But this way of travel is rather abrupt."
That was it? It sounded simple enough. She followed Ceilha and Dracer into the circle, it being big enough to probably fit a dozen people, Aldran not falling behind this time.
As they crossed the boundary, the three mages placed themselves an equal distance away from each other, their eyes closed. On an unknown signal, they breathed out slowly, raising their hands to parallel the circle. At once, the circle sparked, brightening even more.