My first ever story, a really cruddy one-shot.
Arya waited.
Soon it would begin again. It always did. There was no cease, no halt…nothing. Just pain, pain, endless crimson waves of never-ending pain. Pain that she could drown in.
But she would never give in. Her breoal had been dishonored enough with her capture. She could not, would not betray her people.
That was not the elven way. Elves were stoical; unemotional…they didn't let their feeling control them.
Then why had she come so near to insanity?
It was not just the pain. No, as great as it was, it was not just the pain.
Fäolin. Fäolin, whom she loved, who had loved her, was dead.
The first time she had ever seen a dead animal, she had screamed. She had stumbled upon a dead fawn in the woods. The stiff body, the blood-matted hide, but above all, the look of its eyes.
She'd had nightmare for weeks.
And Fäolin, Fäolin, had that same look, blank, empty, lifeless.
It had nearly driven her mad.
And now here she was, uncertainly waiting for her punishment.
But there were new minds.
An innocent, childlike mind, shot through with stabs of worry. She had sensed a flow of magic coming from him earlier, when her wounds had been healed.
A strange mind, one that seemed familiar, somehow, like a constant companion…no. it couldn't be…the egg? Had it hatched? The mind felt similar to the great gold dragon, Glaedr's.
Joy pulsed through her. She had not failed entirely; one might even say that she had completed her duty, in a roundabout fashion.
A Rider. The world will change, and I helped bring it about.
And then…another mind. This too seemed familiar. Wary, cautious, with shields of iron. A fear of being controlled, with an air of rebellion ghosting through it. But what she sensed most was loyalty. The owner of the mind would remain loyal to the grave, if it could help it. Again, the feeling of familiarity surged through Arya.
Who could this be?
Then she realized it. This mind was shockingly like her own. Not exactly, but so very, very close. She gently brushed up against it.
The mind jerked away like it had been burned, suspicion emanating off it in waves. She got a vague impression of a question.
By the fires below, who is that?
Arya gave the mental equivalent of a smile. That would have been her answer, too.
Maybe…maybe these people weren't going to harm her.
Maybe.
But Arya never jumped into anything.
Arya waited.
There y'all go. My first story. Review if you liked it. Review if you hated it. Flame is you feel sorry for a pyromaniac. And go to my account and vote on my poll on what I should do next. PLEASE! IT'S CALLING YOU!
