Heyla! I wrote this as a chapter for my Science Fiction and Fantasy class. The assignment was to create an original character and insert them into the story, making them fit in with the plot, meet and communicate with at least one of the main characters, and be three pages in length. And, of course, I flipped out, being as you cannot write a proper story in three pages. Well, here is the result.
Of course, as always, I would not have had the imagination to create the Riftwar Saga, therefore, go sue somebody who does. :Ducks as said person chucks a melon at her head: Sorry, sorry, only kidding. Get thee pack to whomever spawned thee spawning self! Begone! I banish thee in the name of fanfiction! Get thee away before I sic my muse on thee!
Ahem...erm...A bit carried away there...
Chapter 17.5 : Dreams and Dust
Smoke. It curled around her. She could taste the acrid scent on her tongue. Her throat burned with it. She choked, sitting up and rolling off the bed. She knelt on the floor as she tried to get as low to the ground as was possible, to where she knew the fresh air would be. She felt stifled and trapped. Groping around, she searched for something that could direct her to the door. "Calron!" she rasped. "Fire!"
"Mei. Mei!" There was a hand on Meithryn's shoulder, shaking gently. With a small gasp, she sat up, her hand rising to her throat. She swallowed hard; her heart thumped quickly in her chest. Her other hand stretched out, feeling the thin coverlet under her fingertips, cool ridges marking where the thread had pierced the cloth. Although her breathing was easier, she could still taste ash in her mouth. Her eyes burned. Reaching out quickly, she grasped her brother's sleeve tightly in one fist. The very solidity of him was reassuring. "You were dreaming again. Here." Mei felt Calron's hands, strong and callused from hard work, wrap her own around a mug. "Drink this."
The mug felt cool against the heat of her fingers. She tried to keep them from shaking too badly as she brought it to her lips. The liquid, warm milk and cinnamon, slid easily down her throat. "Thank you." She licked milk from her lips as Cal took the mug back. The milk helped rid the taste of cinder from her mouth, but she repressed a shudder. It'd been so real... Stop that, she commanded herself. It was just a nightmare. Not...not like when Da died. She swallowed again, hard, to force down the lump that rose. If only she'd told him... but Cal had just shrugged her off. M had told her not to speak of such things before making the sign against evil on her chest. And then later her dream had come true. Why hadn't he believed her? He should have believed her! She calmed herself automatically. Now was not the time to panic. For a long time, her dreams had been vague and harmless. There was no reason to believe that she was going to start having true-dreams again. She shoved the fear aside, burying it.
Cal looked worriedly at his sister. "Are you sickening?" he asked, brow furrowed. The light from the candle reflected on her pale, thin face, nearly white from being cooped up indoors for so long. Mei's mossy nightgown hung loosely on her frail frame. Her sightless eyes stared blankly ahead, pointed just above his shoulder. How long had it been since they'd been bright with curiosity and youth? He sighed, tugging the blanket up within the reach of her questing fingers. Her dark blue eyes were their father's. How fitting, perhaps, for fate to take her sight at his death.
"I'm fine, Cal," she said, a light smile touching the corner of her mouth. She blindly reached out a hand to touch his shoulder; her fingertips just brushed the coarse fabric of his tunic. This wasn't the first time she'd woken with a nightmare, but Cal was always there with a mug of warm milk. "You worry too much." Not the first time - and likely not the last either. Lately her sleep had been troubled by visions of blood and war.
There was an explosion. Cal yelled, pulling Mei from the bed and sending her tumbling to the ground as the window above the bed shattered. Glass flew everywhere, glinting in the light of the candle like deadly diamond bits. There were shrieks from the other houses in town. The sound of splintered wood made Mei flinch, and involuntary scream was wrenched from her throat. Cal leapt to his feet. "Ma!" He grabbed a poker from the fire and shook the glass from Mei's blanket, flinging it over her head. "Stay there, and lay still!" he ordered, running from the room.
It was hot and stuffy under the blanket. There was the sound of scuffling from the next room. Mei pressed her hands over her ears to block the screams, curling up into a ball on the floor. Ma...Cal...please, don't leave me. Please be okay.
She flinched at a hand on her shoulder. "Shush, Mei, it's me," Cal's voice was husky and shaky. He gently helped her to her feet, wrapping the blanket around her firmly. "Come on," he grabbed her hand, tugging her forward.
"But...but what about Ma?"
There was a brief pause, thick with the unsaid. Mei reached back, grasping his shoulder firmly, an anchor as the darkness around her seemed to swim. "Don't speak, Mei. Not until we get up to the Keep."
Mei nodded, bowing her head and shuffling after her brother as grief rose in her chest. Silent tears tracked down her face. The scent of ash was thick in the air, and her body shook with coughs. Cal refused to look back as the crackling of red-gold flames met his ears. The cabin went up in flames, a funeral pyre for the deceased.
Mei clasped her hands neatly in her lap, staring blankly ahead as her brother spoke with Prince Arutha. They've been talking for the last fifteen minutes, she thought, her back stiff and straight. Her lips tightened at her brother's thread of conversation. He wanted to fight in the war against the Tsurani, to revenge their Mother. I don't want to lose another family member, she thought as sorrow rushed through her. I don't want him going off to war. But what could she do to stop him? He wouldn't have listened to her even if she weren't only thirteen, let alone a girl. She knew that anything she said would be brushed aside. The sense of hopelessness that filled her made her want to scream, yet the constriction around her middle made her feel as if her father's death had taken her speech along with her sight.
"My sister shall bring Meithryn to where she can get some rest," Prince Arutha's voice cut through Mei's thoughts. A strange hand lightly touched her shoulder.
"Come, Meithryn." Mei rose, and Carline took her hand to lead her out of the room. The Princess' voice was calm and clear. Mei was grateful for the absence of pity in her voice. Mei padded silently behind the Princess on bare feet, surprised to not hear the rustle of skirts. "I'll have some clothes brought up for you. I assume your clothes were burned in the attack?"
"Yes, Highness," Mei replied. Her steps faltered slightly as a memory rose unbidden, that of sitting beside her Ma, spinning the wool that her mother had used for tunics. She hadn't needed sight for spinning, not once she'd learned how to spin evenly to avoid lumps in the thread. You can learn a lot from a good thread, Mei thought. Her mother's thread had been long and fine, albeit a bit coarse.
Carline's steps slowed. "Watch the steps here," Carline informed her. Mei stepped gingerly until she felt the first step under her foot, whereupon her feet regained their confidence. She counted the steps silently to keep her mind from turning inward. Without light, without color, she'd long ago learned that the slightest thing could become an exercise to keep the mind busy. They continued along the landing for a while before Carline pushed open a door. She led Mei around the room, showing her where the bed and dresser were. "Do you have all that?" Carline asked, wondering silently how anyone could ever get used to living in darkness.
"I can remember," Mei informed her solemnly. "Thank you, Highness."
"You're welcome," Carline watched her closely for a moment. "Call me Carline. I am sorry for your mother. I – I lost someone very dear to me a little while ago as well." Mei kept silent, unsure how to reply, and not trusting herself to speak. She hadn't thought she'd had any more tears left, but now they pressed against her eyes like a hot washcloth and her chest caught. The thought of the Baroness' death had weighed heavily on Crydee, but Carline's loss only reminded her of her own. Mei couldn't force any words from her throat.
Carline laid a hand on her arm for a moment, sighing as she remembered Pug before heading toward the door. So many kinsmen being killed in this war...she wished with all of her heart that it had never begun. "I will send someone up with some clothes. In the meantime, I wish you a good nights rest."
"Thank you, Highness," Mei whispered, and waited until the door was closed to let the tears pour down her cheeks. All of her dreams, and she could do nothing. Hopesless. She squeezed her eyes shut as if it would block out the tears, stuffing the corner of the blanket into her mouth to stifle sobs. Calron was going off to war. She was stuck in the Keep, to wait and dream, hopefully to catch a glimpse of his triumphant return home. Ma was dead. And the boy who had haunted her dreams of late, with strange clothes and Calron's thick hair, was tumbling to the ground with a arrow through his heart.
Like it? Hate it? Curse the lunacy of my teacher for setting a limit of three pages? I know I do...or did...Hmm, wonder where they went? Fantus! What are you doing to those poor women! Get them out of your mouth right this instant:Smacks Fantus on the nose with a rolled up newspaper: Bad Fantus! Very bad Firedrake! You can't eat my teachers! And I thought having sugar-happy chipmunks for a muse was exasperating!