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rainbowfic2012-04-05 11:44 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2012-04-05 11:44 pm
Scarlet #4, Lotus #2, Emerald #13
Story: Intake
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Scarlet #4. After all, tomorrow is another day., Lotus #2. The jewel in the lotus, Emerald #13. What's coming will come and we'll meet it when it does.
Supplies and Materials: brush (cockalorum), modeling clay, glue ("It appears that you're ready to take a risk to get something you want. But behind your optimistic veneer, you might be more calculating than anyone realizes. Fortunately, once you finally climb out on a precarious limb, you're confident that you won't fall. A concrete plan can make the difference between failure and success, so build your strategy on proven facts and not faulty assumptions based on unrealistic dreams.")
Word Count: 964
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Prince Isshiri, Mel Artwick
Warnings: Enslavement, some abuse from the guards
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
Things had happened very fast at first, after Isshiri had revealed himself. He'd been arrested, harangued at by some sort of official--not King Sorell or Crown Prince Kellom, being too young to be the former and too old to be the latter--brought to a detention center, and locked in a stone box, all within two or three hours of his dragon stunt.
And then he'd waited.
He had no cell mate to question, and his guards didn't speak to him except to occasionally cuff him and call him a freak or not human. When he'd tried to glean more information from them, they'd laughed and ignored him. He'd been in this cell for three days now--he guessed, it was hard to be sure, cut off from the sun as he was--and hadn't been put to work or even collared. Maybe they're working on making a collar I can't burn through that won't suffocate me, he thought. That would explain the delay. Except they already had some fire-mages--the box they'd had his hands in proved that. So gods alone knew why he was being ignored.
They had, unfortunately, discovered his incompleteness and taken the false leg Nolani had so carefully constructed for him before he left, and broken it right in front of him. So he wouldn't be able to run, even if he saw an opportunity.
Maybe that had something to do with his continued lack of a collar.
I should've taken a couple more days and planned this out better, he thought, ruefully, several times. If this goes south, I have no way out. Somehow I doubt my letting them know I'm King Amassa's grandnephew will save me. He sighed and tried to shift to a more comfortable position.
It seemed, however, that at last his wait was over. Before too long, something very unusual happened. His door opened.
One of the guards, accompanied by a silent, collared young man, entered the cell. The collared man murmured something, and the stone floor and walls grew up around his foot, stump, and arms. The guard, smirking, approached and snapped a collar around his neck. Isshiri was tempted to breathe some magic and set the guard's hair on fire, but decided that his spy mission didn't require learning the consequences of that sort of misbehavior. Besides, it was probably best to keep back at least one secret weapon. So he remained still.
Once he was securely collared, the guard kicked the earth-mage, who released Isshiri from the wall and floor. The guard dragged him up by the collar. "You're working the gates today, freak, destroying contraband."
Isshiri nodded. "Right, then. How am I getting there? You took my leg, I can't exactly walk."
The guard backhanded him. "No questions."
The fire-mage fell silent, cursing the guard to every form of hell imaginable, and submitted to being dragged out of his cell and onto some sort of wagon.
There was another pair of slaves on the wagon. One of them waved a little at him, the other stared stonily off at nothing.
Once the wagon was moving, the friendlier one spoke. "You're a new one."
Isshiri nodded. "I'm Isshiri. Fire-mage. What about you two?"
"Mel," the other supplied, promptly. "Water. Tellan's earth, but he don't talk."
"Nice to meet you. I wish it could be under better circumstances."
Mel laughed. "Yeah, that'd be nice. How'd you get caught, anyhow?"
"Stupidity," Isshiri admitted. "I made a fire-dragon to entertain a little girl. A policeman saw me do it."
"No good deed goes unpunished," Mel said, with a sigh.
"What about you?"
"Me? I fixed my neighborhood fountain, and was dragged out of bed middle of the night by the police."
"That must have been fun."
Mel gave a wry little smile. "Yeah."
"Well, at least I'm on gate-duty," Mel said, stretching. "It's not as bad as some of the stuff they put my folk up to."
"How is this going to work?" Isshiri asked. Always better to go in prepared. Easier to plot out an escape if he was a model prisoner; his guards' vigilance might be relaxed a bit in time.
"Simple enough. Guards search all goods comin' in. You burn most of the contraband, I flood any that gives off toxic smoke or pleasin', and Tellan here buries anything what shouldn't be burned or watered."
He nodded. That was about what he'd expected. "Good to know."
They were silent for a few minutes, then arrived at the gate. One of the guards did something with his collar, then shoved him. "Wait there 'til we give you something."
Isshiri tried to catch himself and failed, ending up sprawled on the grass. Mel bent down and helped him up, not letting go 'til he was steadier.
"Thanks," he muttered.
"Don' mention it." Mel eyed him. "Don' try to use your magic outside of when they tell you. They've shut your collar off for now, but they're faster'n you think."
"Shut it off?" Isshiri asked.
"So it won't shock you," he answered. "Hell if I know how these things work, but it ain't fun when they do."
Doubly glad I didn't set that guard on fire, Isshiri thought, touching the collar gingerly. "Thanks for the head's up."
"No talking," one of the guards snapped, as the first cart of potential contraband pulled up.
Isshiri nodded briefly at Mel, trying to indicate he was more or less balanced now, and the older man stepped away so they could get to work.
It didn't take much thought, at least, and if his collar wouldn't shock him while he was out here...
Patience didn't exactly come easily to Isshiri, but he sure as hell wasn't going to botch his escape the way he'd botched his infiltration.
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Scarlet #4. After all, tomorrow is another day., Lotus #2. The jewel in the lotus, Emerald #13. What's coming will come and we'll meet it when it does.
Supplies and Materials: brush (cockalorum), modeling clay, glue ("It appears that you're ready to take a risk to get something you want. But behind your optimistic veneer, you might be more calculating than anyone realizes. Fortunately, once you finally climb out on a precarious limb, you're confident that you won't fall. A concrete plan can make the difference between failure and success, so build your strategy on proven facts and not faulty assumptions based on unrealistic dreams.")
Word Count: 964
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Prince Isshiri, Mel Artwick
Warnings: Enslavement, some abuse from the guards
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
Things had happened very fast at first, after Isshiri had revealed himself. He'd been arrested, harangued at by some sort of official--not King Sorell or Crown Prince Kellom, being too young to be the former and too old to be the latter--brought to a detention center, and locked in a stone box, all within two or three hours of his dragon stunt.
And then he'd waited.
He had no cell mate to question, and his guards didn't speak to him except to occasionally cuff him and call him a freak or not human. When he'd tried to glean more information from them, they'd laughed and ignored him. He'd been in this cell for three days now--he guessed, it was hard to be sure, cut off from the sun as he was--and hadn't been put to work or even collared. Maybe they're working on making a collar I can't burn through that won't suffocate me, he thought. That would explain the delay. Except they already had some fire-mages--the box they'd had his hands in proved that. So gods alone knew why he was being ignored.
They had, unfortunately, discovered his incompleteness and taken the false leg Nolani had so carefully constructed for him before he left, and broken it right in front of him. So he wouldn't be able to run, even if he saw an opportunity.
Maybe that had something to do with his continued lack of a collar.
I should've taken a couple more days and planned this out better, he thought, ruefully, several times. If this goes south, I have no way out. Somehow I doubt my letting them know I'm King Amassa's grandnephew will save me. He sighed and tried to shift to a more comfortable position.
It seemed, however, that at last his wait was over. Before too long, something very unusual happened. His door opened.
One of the guards, accompanied by a silent, collared young man, entered the cell. The collared man murmured something, and the stone floor and walls grew up around his foot, stump, and arms. The guard, smirking, approached and snapped a collar around his neck. Isshiri was tempted to breathe some magic and set the guard's hair on fire, but decided that his spy mission didn't require learning the consequences of that sort of misbehavior. Besides, it was probably best to keep back at least one secret weapon. So he remained still.
Once he was securely collared, the guard kicked the earth-mage, who released Isshiri from the wall and floor. The guard dragged him up by the collar. "You're working the gates today, freak, destroying contraband."
Isshiri nodded. "Right, then. How am I getting there? You took my leg, I can't exactly walk."
The guard backhanded him. "No questions."
The fire-mage fell silent, cursing the guard to every form of hell imaginable, and submitted to being dragged out of his cell and onto some sort of wagon.
There was another pair of slaves on the wagon. One of them waved a little at him, the other stared stonily off at nothing.
Once the wagon was moving, the friendlier one spoke. "You're a new one."
Isshiri nodded. "I'm Isshiri. Fire-mage. What about you two?"
"Mel," the other supplied, promptly. "Water. Tellan's earth, but he don't talk."
"Nice to meet you. I wish it could be under better circumstances."
Mel laughed. "Yeah, that'd be nice. How'd you get caught, anyhow?"
"Stupidity," Isshiri admitted. "I made a fire-dragon to entertain a little girl. A policeman saw me do it."
"No good deed goes unpunished," Mel said, with a sigh.
"What about you?"
"Me? I fixed my neighborhood fountain, and was dragged out of bed middle of the night by the police."
"That must have been fun."
Mel gave a wry little smile. "Yeah."
"Well, at least I'm on gate-duty," Mel said, stretching. "It's not as bad as some of the stuff they put my folk up to."
"How is this going to work?" Isshiri asked. Always better to go in prepared. Easier to plot out an escape if he was a model prisoner; his guards' vigilance might be relaxed a bit in time.
"Simple enough. Guards search all goods comin' in. You burn most of the contraband, I flood any that gives off toxic smoke or pleasin', and Tellan here buries anything what shouldn't be burned or watered."
He nodded. That was about what he'd expected. "Good to know."
They were silent for a few minutes, then arrived at the gate. One of the guards did something with his collar, then shoved him. "Wait there 'til we give you something."
Isshiri tried to catch himself and failed, ending up sprawled on the grass. Mel bent down and helped him up, not letting go 'til he was steadier.
"Thanks," he muttered.
"Don' mention it." Mel eyed him. "Don' try to use your magic outside of when they tell you. They've shut your collar off for now, but they're faster'n you think."
"Shut it off?" Isshiri asked.
"So it won't shock you," he answered. "Hell if I know how these things work, but it ain't fun when they do."
Doubly glad I didn't set that guard on fire, Isshiri thought, touching the collar gingerly. "Thanks for the head's up."
"No talking," one of the guards snapped, as the first cart of potential contraband pulled up.
Isshiri nodded briefly at Mel, trying to indicate he was more or less balanced now, and the older man stepped away so they could get to work.
It didn't take much thought, at least, and if his collar wouldn't shock him while he was out here...
Patience didn't exactly come easily to Isshiri, but he sure as hell wasn't going to botch his escape the way he'd botched his infiltration.
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Isshiri's there for three or four months, give or take.
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Do all earth mages not talk--is that why the ship people wanted non-earth mages to talk to?
Poor Isshiri. I hope he doesn't fall down too often.
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No, earth-mages talk--the ones on the ship don't because seasickness makes that unwise. Pretty much all earth-mages get horribly seasick.
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Good job!
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Yeah, Isshiri is dangerously curious and more than a little reckless, but he does pay attention and course-correct when he can.
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Also, for all of their hardship? Isshiri interacting with Mel is ADORABLE.
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They are, aren't they?