thisbluespirit (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thisbluespirit) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2023-10-10 09:28 pm
thisbluespirit) wrote in rainbowfic2023-10-10 09:28 pm
Nacre #20; White Opal #20 [Starfall]
Name: Point of No Return
Story: Starfall
Colors: Nacre #20 (How long did you plan on keeping this from me?); White Opal #20 (hope)
Supplies and Styles: Novelty Beads – Birthday prompt fromdray (I’m afraid there was no other choice) + Graffiti – 11 Years of rainbowfic Part 9 (September Secrets)
Word Count: 3247
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Peril, injury.
Notes: 1337, Starfall Mountains; Leaira Modelen, Marran Delver. (Comes soon after Paper Trail, and we begin to get an answer as to why the Governor behaved oddly with Leaira. *\o/* This was, I think, the second piece I wrote (longhand), so I’ve been sitting on it a while.)
Summary: Leaira finally understands one of the Governor’s secrets, much too late – or too soon – for either of them.
It was a grey and surprisingly chilly autumn day. Leaira didn’t let that put her off, heading out of Starfall Manor up to the Boundary Paths, regardless of the weather. It was a relatively short and easy walk along the winding track and she didn’t intend going all the way in any case. There were several places much nearer that she could find to sit quietly, out of sight of everyone else. She wanted to look at Aimon’s information about Governor Delver and put her thoughts in order before she had to speak to either of them again.
She reached the gate at the north end of the grounds and climbed onto it, perching there as she raised her gaze to the rocky peaks of the Starfall Ranges above. The Manor sat on a large plateau halfway up Imor’s Gate Mountain. What they called the entrance to the Boundary Paths lay a short way further up Imor’s Gate – as the scholars and Pathwalkers would tell her, the Paths were not in this world and couldn’t have a physical entrance. But for practical purposes, that was how most of them thought of it.
Leaira twisted to one side, looking back down the sloping grounds towards the Manor. She spotted a familiar figure walking about in the garden attached to the medical wing and her eyes narrowed. “Curse him!” The Governor was out there, strolling about with Stolley and another member of his staff. He might easily see her if she wasn’t careful. She jumped down from the gate, cursing under her breath, and set off up the path at a pace. The letters Aimon had given her burned a guilty hole in her quilted coat – she wasn’t ready to face Marran Delver yet.
Really, it was his own fault if people couldn’t trust him – he went round being cryptic about everything and leaving secrets in a box locked inside her library store. Still, she reminded herself, he was hardly likely to run up here after her. The Governor had a strict daily schedule and his secretary Stolley made sure he kept to it. She slowed her pace and breathed more easily.
She turned the first bend away from Starfall, out of sight, and up the initial, steepest slope of the track, the effort precluding complicated thoughts. The day was already darker than when she’d left the building hardly ten minutes ago, and the wind had dropped a couple of degrees, biting at her extremities.
Leaira tugged her coat in more closely and then made herself as comfortable as she could, sitting on the nearest conveniently shaped ledge. She pulled out the letter. She had only just smoothed out its sheets on her knees, when she heard the crunching sound of someone ascending the path behind her. She muttered another curse and hastily and clumsily folded the letters, shoving them into her jacket. She’d barely finished fastening the buttons again and not even started on replacing her gloves when Marran Delver’s head appeared from below.
“Stars and Powers,” she muttered under her breath as she jumped to her feet. She hadn’t believed Aimon’s accusations, but she couldn’t think of any good reason the Governor could have for following her up Imor’s Gate. She shivered. What was he thinking? He had no right to be wandering about here exactly when she needed him to stay at Starfall!
“What are you doing?” she demanded, standing across the path as if to bar his way.
His face cleared in relief as he approached her. “That’s what I was going to ask you. This isn’t wise.” He waved a hand at the lowering clouds. “Look at the sky!”
“It’s hardly likely to do much. Not at this time of the year,” said Leaira. It wasn’t his affair; she wasn’t telling him that she was going to turn back round after a few minutes’ peace and quiet anyway. “And you shouldn’t have come up after me! You’re a Governor – you shouldn’t go putting yourself in danger.”
His mouth twitched. “Stolley would agree with you, I’m sure. Look, Leaira, come back. You mustn’t wander about outside the Manor like this, not in this sort of weather, not any more.”
“I’m going to check the message box at the Boundary Paths,” Leaira lied. She did do it every so often – there were message boxes along the circle where Pathwalkers could leave notes if they strayed. Sometimes it was the only way Starfall ever found out what had had happened to a missing Pathwalker. “You go back – I’ll see you later.”
She turned and carried on upwards, round the next bend of the winding track. She didn’t look back at him. A tiny flake of snow fell against her cheek, and then another, but it wasn’t settling yet. She walked on.
“Stop – come back here now!”
His last command nearly halted her, but Leaira raised her head and continued. As soon as he went, she’d double back – she wasn’t going to risk wandering about Imor’s Gate in snow, however light or unlikely to be a full storm, but she refused to go back to Starfall with the very person she was trying to avoid.
There was a rustling sound behind her and footsteps – he hadn’t given up. He caught up with her and suddenly grabbed her arm, pulling her into a slight alcove in the rock beside them. Leaira froze in blank shock for a moment. Then she twisted desperately in his grasp, yelling and kicking. “Let go! How dare you!” He hung onto her, and shook his head, only tightening his grip as she struggled.
“Leaira,” he gasped into her ear as she elbowed him, not quite hitting her target. “Look – there.” He tugged at her, trying to turn her to view the mountain path. “I’m not your enemy – that is!”
Leaira saw it then, and fell abruptly still, her protests dying on her lips. There was a white wolf standing on the path, barely a length away from them. It raised its head, as if sniffing the wind. It was hazy, almost one with the gathering mist, and no amount of blinking brought it fully into focus. It wasn’t flesh; it was made out of snow – no more real than the ice snake that had tried to kill her a month ago. She’d seen something else like it before, too – in a vision in the Great Lightstone when she was a child. She’d had nightmares about it ever since.
The Governor relaxed his hold and Leaira pulled away sharply, her heartbeat thudding in her ears.
“What is that? What did you do?”
“Nothing!” He pushed at her to walk on upwards, away from the creature, putting himself between her and it in the same movement. It leapt for them with a rushing sound, like snow tumbling off a roof. The Governor bit back a yell, holding up his arm to shield himself against it and as the wolf struck him, it disintegrated into a thousand tiny flakes.
Leaira halted. “Is it gone?”
The Governor shook his head. “Move,” he said shortly. He nodded behind him, where the cloud of snow motes was rapidly reforming, becoming slowly, fuzzily, wolf-shaped. “I hope you know another way back down – or where we can find shelter.”
Leaira stopped arguing. The sleeve of the Governor’s jacket was torn where the wolf had caught it with its claws of ice. She could see blood. She raised her head and contemplated the ways up, down and round Imor’s Gate, and then grabbed hold of his unhurt arm to halt him.
“Up here,” she said, a few steps on, pointing at the more direct goat-track up which they could use to cut up the mountainside. She cast a sidelong, measuring glance at him. The short way was easier going than it appeared from here, and he wasn’t that old. He ought to be able to make it up there if she could.
The Governor grabbed a handful of rocks, throwing them down the slope at the following wolf, but this time it only half dispersed into snow as they struck it. Had it grown?
“Come on,” said Leaira. She repressed a shiver. “Don’t worry – it’s not as bad as it looks!”
“Oh, good,” he murmured, keeping close.
The wolf howled behind them; a thin, high sound like the winter wind tearing itself ragged through the mountains. Then it stopped, and darted forwards. The Governor turned sharply, kicking out at it and trying to catch it head on with a flat piece of stone. It swirled into fragments, but there was still a soft padding noise coming down the path towards them – a second snow wolf, howling in answer to the first.
Leaira cursed shortly, and scurried up the steep incline until she paused on a small ledge. Then she eased her way up a step-like formation in the rocks until the last, short stretch was more of a climb, but the path above was already within reach. She hauled herself up onto it, and twisted around to check the Governor was following. He was close behind her. She held out a hand and helped him over the edge. He winced.
“Your arm,” she said. “Is it bad?”
He turned sharply, raising his head. “Leaira!”
She lifted her head. Two white birds dived towards them at speed. Leaira yelped as a sharp beak and tiny claws caught at and dug into her hat and hair. She batted it away wildly. One of her sideswipes shattered it into ice particles that rose up and immediately reformed above them.
“His power’s not strong enough here – yet,” said the Governor. “Shara’s tears. If these things were any more substantial –” He glanced back down the way they’d come. Leaira followed his gaze. The heavy clouds had gathered too thickly for them to see where the creatures were now. He turned his head to her. “We can’t stay here.”
She nodded, and took his hand to lead him along the path. The snow fell – soft, infrequent, but persistent – while the chilly grey mist’s embrace closed around them.
“What did you mean – he’s not strong enough?” said Leaira, as they went onwards. “You know what’s going on, don’t you? Of course you do!”
“Yes. No,” he said. “It’s complicated.”
Another howl came from the lower path, and they both stopped. The Governor let go of Leaira, kicking at loose stones and rocks on the ground to send them rattling down the sharp incline. Leaira heard more howling and a burst of white motes soared upwards suddenly, and for a moment, sparkled impossibly in the midst of the fog.
Something else moved in front of them, white-grey and making only the softest sounds. They swung around to face it, but the mist was too thick to see. The wolves again? The Governor put out a hand behind him, signalling to Leaira to back away.
Leaira reversed her way along the path, hanging onto him, and twisting her head around to see where she was going. Something rustled behind her. She released her hold on the Governor and turned fully as the snow wolf lunged for her. She shrieked and dropped into a crouching position, clapping her hands over her head. A draft icier than the wind cut through her and prickled on the back of her neck, but no sharp claws sliced into her. She raised her head slowly, lowering shaking hands.
The Governor was standing over her. He thrust his hand down and as she grasped it, pulled her onto her feet, and close in against him. When she mustered courage enough to turn to look, the wolf was starting to reform. Snowflakes coalesced and collected to become an indistinctly shaped body of fur and teeth and claws out of which silvery eyes watched her.
“The Paths,” the Governor hissed. “Can you get there?”
“You can’t go on the Paths!” It crossed her mind that maybe that was what he had wanted – to force her into taking him onto them, but there was no time for anything other than getting away from the creatures. They’d hurt the Governor – and the only reason she’d got away so lightly as yet was because he’d stood between her and them. They had to do something, or they’d both be much too dead to worry about his intentions or Starfall’s rules.
“You can,” he said. “Hurry!” He pushed her on, and followed, moving stiffly. Was his leg dragging now? “Head down – run at the creatures, fast as you can. They’re stronger, but not much – it should work. The Paths are near now, yes?”
Leaira ought to have argued, but she swallowed, and gave a quick nod. She took his advice and charged forward along the path with a wild cry. The place that she thought of as the door to the Paths was only a few lengths away. Another snow wolf launched itself at her but the Governor was right – running, she struck it head on with enough force to cause it to dissipate.
The shock made her gasp. Cold shot through her. Her teeth watered and her brain numbed. She stumbled against the rock wall but the freezing fog wouldn’t clear out of her mind. What was she doing? More forlorn howling echoed about the mountain and rang in her ears. She shivered.
“Leaira.” The Governor arrived beside her. He put his good arm around her, as she stared at the entrance, unable to think straight. “The Paths,” he reminded her in a low tone, but with an underlying steely insistence.
Leaira blinked and shook herself. She stretched out her hand to press it against the opalescent marker stone – the Pathwalkers' key, they called it. It glowed a soft blue under her red gloves. The Governor gave a short gasp. She was near enough to feel his body jerk – and then he fell away from her. Leaira swung around with a cry.
The Governor hadn’t fallen far. She nearly dropped to her knees beside him in relief. He was on all fours on the path next to her, and put one hand on the rock wall, his face creasing in pain. There were dark blood stains on the front of his Rosfallen blue coat. “Go,” he ordered. “Go!”
Leaira shook her head. “I can’t – I can’t leave you!” She held out her hand to him.
He shook his head, gritting his teeth, as he pulled himself up by the rock wall, making painfully slow progress. “Go!”
Leaira bent down to catch hold of his jacket but she released it again at once in the shock at finding blood on her gloved fingers. She struggled to speak, but Governor Delver shoved her forwards, right up against the entrance.
“Go, go,” he said. “You’ll understand – I’m sorry – go!”
Leaira put a trembling hand on the glowing stone to open the way. The blue-white light of nowhere shone in front of her. She caught her breath. Her head was still so foggy and stupid, but she couldn’t leave a Regional Governor to die – she mustn’t.
There was a flash of white as a wolf flung itself forward with an unearthly shriek. She jumped hard enough that it carried her forward onto the Paths and out of the real world. The last thing she saw as the stony mountain path vanished into azure-edged nothingness, was the snow creature cannoning into Governor Delver, knocking him off the edge.
Then there was nothing left of the earth she knew. The Paths were all there was and ever had been – only an endless, eerie glow and a silence that echoed in her ears. She was suddenly so crudely loud and rudely alive in that place – heart thudding, breathing too fast, blood rushing around her veins, and salt tears running down her cheeks, while her mind simply would not work.
Leaira hadn’t been on the Paths for a year and more, but she had been taught the basics of how to navigate them by Cam. All Starfall staff with affinity had to learn that much, just in case. She’d wondered at the time, in case of what? She hadn’t been able to come up with an answer. It turned out that you might, after all, find yourself chased onto the Paths by impossible creatures, and be in desperate need to get back and fetch help for a Governor who might have saved your life or endangered it in the first place.
Her head was so woolly and thick. She shook it vigorously, but it didn’t help. Leaira sighed, gazing down at the dark red stains on her scarlet gloves. She closed her eyes, and breathed in and out. She had to get help for Marran Delver – she had to get back to him – she had to get back to Starfall. Her mind drifted away, unable to think any further than that.
And with that in her mind, Leaira fell abruptly out of the unearthly blue-tinged light of the Paths, back into reality – and landed in a strange, rocky place, covered in thick snow. She yelled out wildly. She scrabbled to her feet with difficulty, sliding about in the powdery snow. She’d have tipped right over into a deep drift if someone hadn’t hurried over to catch her.
“What are you doing here?” asked an unfamiliar voice. He steadied her, and kept an arm around her. She saw the military dusty-blue of his sleeve, but not anything more at this close angle. “Captain! Hi! Over here! Look what I’ve found.”
Leaira shivered. “I have to get help,” she managed to get out, her teeth chattering. Her mind was even cloudier than before. The only thing she could keep in her head was her last sight of the Governor as he disappeared over the side of the mountain path – that and the blood on her trembling hands. Her knees weakened and threatened to give out from under her. She leant against the soldier holding her. “Please.”
He didn’t reply, looking instead at a tall figure making their way upwards through the thick snow towards them. “The Captain’s on his way.”
“I have to go back,” said Leaira. “It’s vital!”
“Captain,” said her rescuer, as his superior officer reached them.
The Captain was wearing a thick grey-blue army coat, scarf wrapped solidly round his throat, and a hat with ear-flaps. He made his way over with enviable ease, and stopped in front of them.
“Hilten. What do we have here?”
Leaira froze at the sound of his voice. It was so like the Governor’s, but with the lightness of youth. She raised her gaze unwillingly, trying to get a proper glimpse of his face under the hat and scarf. When she did, her dazed mind gave out entirely.
“You can’t be here! You’re dead,” she said. But she was looking at Marran Delver’s grey eyes, his even mouth, and his rounded, stubborn chin – but he was whole and uninjured and his face was unlined. The strands of hair poking out from under his hat were straw-blond with no trace of grey. She backed away into Hilten; a solid presence behind her. “You’re a ghost!”
“Not yet,” the stranger who looked like Marran Delver said, and held out a hand. He gave her an encouraging smile, tilting his head slightly to one side. “I’m not going to hurt you. Whoever you think I am, don’t worry – I’m not that person. Now – who are you?”
Story: Starfall
Colors: Nacre #20 (How long did you plan on keeping this from me?); White Opal #20 (hope)
Supplies and Styles: Novelty Beads – Birthday prompt from
dray (I’m afraid there was no other choice) + Graffiti – 11 Years of rainbowfic Part 9 (September Secrets)Word Count: 3247
Rating: Teen
Warnings: Peril, injury.
Notes: 1337, Starfall Mountains; Leaira Modelen, Marran Delver. (Comes soon after Paper Trail, and we begin to get an answer as to why the Governor behaved oddly with Leaira. *\o/* This was, I think, the second piece I wrote (longhand), so I’ve been sitting on it a while.)
Summary: Leaira finally understands one of the Governor’s secrets, much too late – or too soon – for either of them.
It was a grey and surprisingly chilly autumn day. Leaira didn’t let that put her off, heading out of Starfall Manor up to the Boundary Paths, regardless of the weather. It was a relatively short and easy walk along the winding track and she didn’t intend going all the way in any case. There were several places much nearer that she could find to sit quietly, out of sight of everyone else. She wanted to look at Aimon’s information about Governor Delver and put her thoughts in order before she had to speak to either of them again.
She reached the gate at the north end of the grounds and climbed onto it, perching there as she raised her gaze to the rocky peaks of the Starfall Ranges above. The Manor sat on a large plateau halfway up Imor’s Gate Mountain. What they called the entrance to the Boundary Paths lay a short way further up Imor’s Gate – as the scholars and Pathwalkers would tell her, the Paths were not in this world and couldn’t have a physical entrance. But for practical purposes, that was how most of them thought of it.
Leaira twisted to one side, looking back down the sloping grounds towards the Manor. She spotted a familiar figure walking about in the garden attached to the medical wing and her eyes narrowed. “Curse him!” The Governor was out there, strolling about with Stolley and another member of his staff. He might easily see her if she wasn’t careful. She jumped down from the gate, cursing under her breath, and set off up the path at a pace. The letters Aimon had given her burned a guilty hole in her quilted coat – she wasn’t ready to face Marran Delver yet.
Really, it was his own fault if people couldn’t trust him – he went round being cryptic about everything and leaving secrets in a box locked inside her library store. Still, she reminded herself, he was hardly likely to run up here after her. The Governor had a strict daily schedule and his secretary Stolley made sure he kept to it. She slowed her pace and breathed more easily.
She turned the first bend away from Starfall, out of sight, and up the initial, steepest slope of the track, the effort precluding complicated thoughts. The day was already darker than when she’d left the building hardly ten minutes ago, and the wind had dropped a couple of degrees, biting at her extremities.
Leaira tugged her coat in more closely and then made herself as comfortable as she could, sitting on the nearest conveniently shaped ledge. She pulled out the letter. She had only just smoothed out its sheets on her knees, when she heard the crunching sound of someone ascending the path behind her. She muttered another curse and hastily and clumsily folded the letters, shoving them into her jacket. She’d barely finished fastening the buttons again and not even started on replacing her gloves when Marran Delver’s head appeared from below.
“Stars and Powers,” she muttered under her breath as she jumped to her feet. She hadn’t believed Aimon’s accusations, but she couldn’t think of any good reason the Governor could have for following her up Imor’s Gate. She shivered. What was he thinking? He had no right to be wandering about here exactly when she needed him to stay at Starfall!
“What are you doing?” she demanded, standing across the path as if to bar his way.
His face cleared in relief as he approached her. “That’s what I was going to ask you. This isn’t wise.” He waved a hand at the lowering clouds. “Look at the sky!”
“It’s hardly likely to do much. Not at this time of the year,” said Leaira. It wasn’t his affair; she wasn’t telling him that she was going to turn back round after a few minutes’ peace and quiet anyway. “And you shouldn’t have come up after me! You’re a Governor – you shouldn’t go putting yourself in danger.”
His mouth twitched. “Stolley would agree with you, I’m sure. Look, Leaira, come back. You mustn’t wander about outside the Manor like this, not in this sort of weather, not any more.”
“I’m going to check the message box at the Boundary Paths,” Leaira lied. She did do it every so often – there were message boxes along the circle where Pathwalkers could leave notes if they strayed. Sometimes it was the only way Starfall ever found out what had had happened to a missing Pathwalker. “You go back – I’ll see you later.”
She turned and carried on upwards, round the next bend of the winding track. She didn’t look back at him. A tiny flake of snow fell against her cheek, and then another, but it wasn’t settling yet. She walked on.
“Stop – come back here now!”
His last command nearly halted her, but Leaira raised her head and continued. As soon as he went, she’d double back – she wasn’t going to risk wandering about Imor’s Gate in snow, however light or unlikely to be a full storm, but she refused to go back to Starfall with the very person she was trying to avoid.
There was a rustling sound behind her and footsteps – he hadn’t given up. He caught up with her and suddenly grabbed her arm, pulling her into a slight alcove in the rock beside them. Leaira froze in blank shock for a moment. Then she twisted desperately in his grasp, yelling and kicking. “Let go! How dare you!” He hung onto her, and shook his head, only tightening his grip as she struggled.
“Leaira,” he gasped into her ear as she elbowed him, not quite hitting her target. “Look – there.” He tugged at her, trying to turn her to view the mountain path. “I’m not your enemy – that is!”
Leaira saw it then, and fell abruptly still, her protests dying on her lips. There was a white wolf standing on the path, barely a length away from them. It raised its head, as if sniffing the wind. It was hazy, almost one with the gathering mist, and no amount of blinking brought it fully into focus. It wasn’t flesh; it was made out of snow – no more real than the ice snake that had tried to kill her a month ago. She’d seen something else like it before, too – in a vision in the Great Lightstone when she was a child. She’d had nightmares about it ever since.
The Governor relaxed his hold and Leaira pulled away sharply, her heartbeat thudding in her ears.
“What is that? What did you do?”
“Nothing!” He pushed at her to walk on upwards, away from the creature, putting himself between her and it in the same movement. It leapt for them with a rushing sound, like snow tumbling off a roof. The Governor bit back a yell, holding up his arm to shield himself against it and as the wolf struck him, it disintegrated into a thousand tiny flakes.
Leaira halted. “Is it gone?”
The Governor shook his head. “Move,” he said shortly. He nodded behind him, where the cloud of snow motes was rapidly reforming, becoming slowly, fuzzily, wolf-shaped. “I hope you know another way back down – or where we can find shelter.”
Leaira stopped arguing. The sleeve of the Governor’s jacket was torn where the wolf had caught it with its claws of ice. She could see blood. She raised her head and contemplated the ways up, down and round Imor’s Gate, and then grabbed hold of his unhurt arm to halt him.
“Up here,” she said, a few steps on, pointing at the more direct goat-track up which they could use to cut up the mountainside. She cast a sidelong, measuring glance at him. The short way was easier going than it appeared from here, and he wasn’t that old. He ought to be able to make it up there if she could.
The Governor grabbed a handful of rocks, throwing them down the slope at the following wolf, but this time it only half dispersed into snow as they struck it. Had it grown?
“Come on,” said Leaira. She repressed a shiver. “Don’t worry – it’s not as bad as it looks!”
“Oh, good,” he murmured, keeping close.
The wolf howled behind them; a thin, high sound like the winter wind tearing itself ragged through the mountains. Then it stopped, and darted forwards. The Governor turned sharply, kicking out at it and trying to catch it head on with a flat piece of stone. It swirled into fragments, but there was still a soft padding noise coming down the path towards them – a second snow wolf, howling in answer to the first.
Leaira cursed shortly, and scurried up the steep incline until she paused on a small ledge. Then she eased her way up a step-like formation in the rocks until the last, short stretch was more of a climb, but the path above was already within reach. She hauled herself up onto it, and twisted around to check the Governor was following. He was close behind her. She held out a hand and helped him over the edge. He winced.
“Your arm,” she said. “Is it bad?”
He turned sharply, raising his head. “Leaira!”
She lifted her head. Two white birds dived towards them at speed. Leaira yelped as a sharp beak and tiny claws caught at and dug into her hat and hair. She batted it away wildly. One of her sideswipes shattered it into ice particles that rose up and immediately reformed above them.
“His power’s not strong enough here – yet,” said the Governor. “Shara’s tears. If these things were any more substantial –” He glanced back down the way they’d come. Leaira followed his gaze. The heavy clouds had gathered too thickly for them to see where the creatures were now. He turned his head to her. “We can’t stay here.”
She nodded, and took his hand to lead him along the path. The snow fell – soft, infrequent, but persistent – while the chilly grey mist’s embrace closed around them.
“What did you mean – he’s not strong enough?” said Leaira, as they went onwards. “You know what’s going on, don’t you? Of course you do!”
“Yes. No,” he said. “It’s complicated.”
Another howl came from the lower path, and they both stopped. The Governor let go of Leaira, kicking at loose stones and rocks on the ground to send them rattling down the sharp incline. Leaira heard more howling and a burst of white motes soared upwards suddenly, and for a moment, sparkled impossibly in the midst of the fog.
Something else moved in front of them, white-grey and making only the softest sounds. They swung around to face it, but the mist was too thick to see. The wolves again? The Governor put out a hand behind him, signalling to Leaira to back away.
Leaira reversed her way along the path, hanging onto him, and twisting her head around to see where she was going. Something rustled behind her. She released her hold on the Governor and turned fully as the snow wolf lunged for her. She shrieked and dropped into a crouching position, clapping her hands over her head. A draft icier than the wind cut through her and prickled on the back of her neck, but no sharp claws sliced into her. She raised her head slowly, lowering shaking hands.
The Governor was standing over her. He thrust his hand down and as she grasped it, pulled her onto her feet, and close in against him. When she mustered courage enough to turn to look, the wolf was starting to reform. Snowflakes coalesced and collected to become an indistinctly shaped body of fur and teeth and claws out of which silvery eyes watched her.
“The Paths,” the Governor hissed. “Can you get there?”
“You can’t go on the Paths!” It crossed her mind that maybe that was what he had wanted – to force her into taking him onto them, but there was no time for anything other than getting away from the creatures. They’d hurt the Governor – and the only reason she’d got away so lightly as yet was because he’d stood between her and them. They had to do something, or they’d both be much too dead to worry about his intentions or Starfall’s rules.
“You can,” he said. “Hurry!” He pushed her on, and followed, moving stiffly. Was his leg dragging now? “Head down – run at the creatures, fast as you can. They’re stronger, but not much – it should work. The Paths are near now, yes?”
Leaira ought to have argued, but she swallowed, and gave a quick nod. She took his advice and charged forward along the path with a wild cry. The place that she thought of as the door to the Paths was only a few lengths away. Another snow wolf launched itself at her but the Governor was right – running, she struck it head on with enough force to cause it to dissipate.
The shock made her gasp. Cold shot through her. Her teeth watered and her brain numbed. She stumbled against the rock wall but the freezing fog wouldn’t clear out of her mind. What was she doing? More forlorn howling echoed about the mountain and rang in her ears. She shivered.
“Leaira.” The Governor arrived beside her. He put his good arm around her, as she stared at the entrance, unable to think straight. “The Paths,” he reminded her in a low tone, but with an underlying steely insistence.
Leaira blinked and shook herself. She stretched out her hand to press it against the opalescent marker stone – the Pathwalkers' key, they called it. It glowed a soft blue under her red gloves. The Governor gave a short gasp. She was near enough to feel his body jerk – and then he fell away from her. Leaira swung around with a cry.
The Governor hadn’t fallen far. She nearly dropped to her knees beside him in relief. He was on all fours on the path next to her, and put one hand on the rock wall, his face creasing in pain. There were dark blood stains on the front of his Rosfallen blue coat. “Go,” he ordered. “Go!”
Leaira shook her head. “I can’t – I can’t leave you!” She held out her hand to him.
He shook his head, gritting his teeth, as he pulled himself up by the rock wall, making painfully slow progress. “Go!”
Leaira bent down to catch hold of his jacket but she released it again at once in the shock at finding blood on her gloved fingers. She struggled to speak, but Governor Delver shoved her forwards, right up against the entrance.
“Go, go,” he said. “You’ll understand – I’m sorry – go!”
Leaira put a trembling hand on the glowing stone to open the way. The blue-white light of nowhere shone in front of her. She caught her breath. Her head was still so foggy and stupid, but she couldn’t leave a Regional Governor to die – she mustn’t.
There was a flash of white as a wolf flung itself forward with an unearthly shriek. She jumped hard enough that it carried her forward onto the Paths and out of the real world. The last thing she saw as the stony mountain path vanished into azure-edged nothingness, was the snow creature cannoning into Governor Delver, knocking him off the edge.
Then there was nothing left of the earth she knew. The Paths were all there was and ever had been – only an endless, eerie glow and a silence that echoed in her ears. She was suddenly so crudely loud and rudely alive in that place – heart thudding, breathing too fast, blood rushing around her veins, and salt tears running down her cheeks, while her mind simply would not work.
Leaira hadn’t been on the Paths for a year and more, but she had been taught the basics of how to navigate them by Cam. All Starfall staff with affinity had to learn that much, just in case. She’d wondered at the time, in case of what? She hadn’t been able to come up with an answer. It turned out that you might, after all, find yourself chased onto the Paths by impossible creatures, and be in desperate need to get back and fetch help for a Governor who might have saved your life or endangered it in the first place.
Her head was so woolly and thick. She shook it vigorously, but it didn’t help. Leaira sighed, gazing down at the dark red stains on her scarlet gloves. She closed her eyes, and breathed in and out. She had to get help for Marran Delver – she had to get back to him – she had to get back to Starfall. Her mind drifted away, unable to think any further than that.
And with that in her mind, Leaira fell abruptly out of the unearthly blue-tinged light of the Paths, back into reality – and landed in a strange, rocky place, covered in thick snow. She yelled out wildly. She scrabbled to her feet with difficulty, sliding about in the powdery snow. She’d have tipped right over into a deep drift if someone hadn’t hurried over to catch her.
“What are you doing here?” asked an unfamiliar voice. He steadied her, and kept an arm around her. She saw the military dusty-blue of his sleeve, but not anything more at this close angle. “Captain! Hi! Over here! Look what I’ve found.”
Leaira shivered. “I have to get help,” she managed to get out, her teeth chattering. Her mind was even cloudier than before. The only thing she could keep in her head was her last sight of the Governor as he disappeared over the side of the mountain path – that and the blood on her trembling hands. Her knees weakened and threatened to give out from under her. She leant against the soldier holding her. “Please.”
He didn’t reply, looking instead at a tall figure making their way upwards through the thick snow towards them. “The Captain’s on his way.”
“I have to go back,” said Leaira. “It’s vital!”
“Captain,” said her rescuer, as his superior officer reached them.
The Captain was wearing a thick grey-blue army coat, scarf wrapped solidly round his throat, and a hat with ear-flaps. He made his way over with enviable ease, and stopped in front of them.
“Hilten. What do we have here?”
Leaira froze at the sound of his voice. It was so like the Governor’s, but with the lightness of youth. She raised her gaze unwillingly, trying to get a proper glimpse of his face under the hat and scarf. When she did, her dazed mind gave out entirely.
“You can’t be here! You’re dead,” she said. But she was looking at Marran Delver’s grey eyes, his even mouth, and his rounded, stubborn chin – but he was whole and uninjured and his face was unlined. The strands of hair poking out from under his hat were straw-blond with no trace of grey. She backed away into Hilten; a solid presence behind her. “You’re a ghost!”
“Not yet,” the stranger who looked like Marran Delver said, and held out a hand. He gave her an encouraging smile, tilting his head slightly to one side. “I’m not going to hurt you. Whoever you think I am, don’t worry – I’m not that person. Now – who are you?”
no subject
OH SHIT THIS IS SO AWESOME OMFGGGGGGGGGGG
ahem. I'm fine. I'm normal now. This was INCREDIBLE.
Here's your novelty beads!
1. "God Made the Automobile," Iron and Wine: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vt_etTpABAM
2. https://41.media.tumblr.com/b07e4b13641ed4783abaebb9d71e1679/tumblr_nwevl4Uaxj1qzdiqvo1_540.jpg
3. "Did I hold you too tight?/Did I not let enough light in?" - the xx, Chained
4. https://i.pinimg.com/564x/a0/3a/c9/a03ac94565171bece052ec6e7eccc068.jpg
5. https://i.pinimg.com/564x/11/4f/09/114f091109bc40c80a47ef8e38c9b17f.jpg
6. "Against All Odds," Phil Collins: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3zJlvq1qJGw
7. read
no subject
Thank you for the novelty beads! And I am deeply, deeply relieved to know that twist landed all right. XD
no subject
no subject
no subject
What did the story start with?
no subject
So, in answer - the first ficlet was Star Storm whil the first piece that I wrote with these two character (which I wrote back to back with this in my notebook) was Say My Name.
(But I didn't type this one up until over a year later.)
no subject
Thank you! I'm afraid I was asking a different question, which was incredibly unclear: since this piece of the story is so important and so old, I was wondering whether it had been one of the first inspirations for writing the rest of the plot to scaffold it, or whether there had been something else that sparked the entire project off (a line of dialogue, a speculative conceit, an actor's face, all or none of the above). It sounds as though there was a substrate in place before Leaira and Delver came into existence, though, so it may have been the wrong question.
the first piece that I wrote with these two character (which I wrote back to back with this in my notebook)
Nice.
no subject
I took you very literally, sorry, lol.
It was from a mix of things, really. Over this decade and more of being so ill, I've had ideas for fantasy stories I haven't been able to use, ones I hoped to and a few just to keep me sane in the worst days, or, often all three in some way. And a librarian lead character more or less like Leaira has been involved since the earliest one, which also had a villain similar but different to the Ice Prince. There was a short-lived politicking version with the librarian and a visiting civil servant, so the oldest parts of the story are Leaira, the Ice Prince, and Aimon. I was trying to make a new canon for
Marran Delver came about because I wanted a secondary character who was seemingly an antagonist but not in a villainous way, just because he was operating under his own agenda and getting in their way, and then I had to work out what he was doing, exactly, and why, and of course he inevitably didn't stay secondary at that point.
So, Leaira predated the whole thing by many years but Marran came in comparatively late in the process last summer.
I was supposed, while getting enough else posted to finally type this bit, to do more with more of the others, but unfortunately there's still a point at which I can only worldbuild organically, so in the end, I had to do a separate, earlier arc to allow me to do that properly, which is where the newer (older-set) Portcallan arc comes in, but it worked beautifully for that, expanded loads of things, was great fun to do in rough at least, and will connect in to some of the Starfall things in the end.
But the good thing about
(I never really thought about saying where it came from. It felt too new and fragile last year where I began, and it never really occurred to me that anyone would want to know!)
ETA: Apologies for all the editing, I got interrupted by the phone - I meant to say, if you meant very specifically this plot twist, then I knew what I wanted the main storyline to be at least vaguely, and once I knew what Marran had been doing that led to him behaving oddly, I can't say anything clever. I just had one of those lovely lightning bolt moments where things suddenly connect, and you're just, BUT OF COURSE! XD
no subject
Nice! I am glad you were finally able to synthesize all the pieces and that you have had the stamina since to keep adding to them.
So, Leaira predated the whole thing by many years but Marran came in comparatively late in the process last summer.
I mean, crashing suddenly into people's lives and catalyzing them around him is one of the things he canonically does.
But the good thing about rainbowfic is I can do it one strand at a time if that's the only way I can cope with it these days, and that's not nothing.
No, and the results seem to be prolific. Your wordcount very healthily exceeded novella some time back.
And thank you very much for reading and for asking!
You're welcome! Thank you for answering. I understand your attitude toward writing is not oriented toward traditional publishing/self-publishing beyond the internet, but as an expression of support, it is strong enough worldbuilding and character work that if you were to tell me that the finished cycle would become available as a book, I would throw money in its general direction; I trust you to stick the landing and I really like print.
(I never really thought about saying where it came from. It felt too new and fragile last year where I began, and it never really occurred to me that anyone would want to know!)
I don't want even slightly to disturb your writing process, so I don't mind at all that you weren't talking about the project's origins. I am always interested in what starts off people's stories because the sources can be so disparate: a concept, an image, an emotional effect. And your comment about casting answered one of my questions also.
Apologies for all the editing, I got interrupted by the phone - I meant to say, if you meant very specifically this plot twist
I really was curious about the entire thing! No worries.
then I knew what I wanted the main storyline to be at least vaguely, and once I knew what Marran had been doing that led to him behaving oddly, I can't say anything clever. I just had one of those lovely lightning bolt moments where things suddenly connect, and you're just, BUT OF COURSE!
It's always convenient when your brain turns out to have been doing all of the plotting and foreshadowing for you, even if it didn't bother to let you know at the time.
no subject
That is true! I suppose it's therefore only right that he and Zila were both actual wild cards as well.
I am always interested in what starts off people's stories because the sources can be so disparate: a concept, an image, an emotional effect.
"I want a 'canon' for
And your comment about casting answered one of my questions also.
I get a bit conscious about that sometimes, so I don't talk about it, but idk why. It makes sense in lots of ways! It's better than randomly ending up with all my relatives distributing attributes of themselves about which is what often happens otherwise (very disturbing!). I suppose because I think people will assume it's about me finding x or y sexy when thank you I took my casting director role here very seriously! (mostly. occasionally there are jokes. which sometimes backfire.)
Not all the characters are, though, because once some of them are, that provides a framework that sometimes shapes others fully already. But the
Anyway, there's been an interesting lot of TV/film watching going on the last year or so and only a couple of them got out of hand, so that's also a positive. XD
it is strong enough worldbuilding and character work that if you were to tell me that the finished cycle would become available as a book, I would throw money in its general direction; I trust you to stick the landing and I really like print.
I like print too. ♥ And thank you so much for saying this; it means a lot. In my head, this is very much what I would like in the end, too - to have something that might work in at least some sort of little self-pub collection, but I also know that realistically it's very unlikely unless things change for the better. But if it does, I have dreams that maybe aren't all that unrealistic after all! <3
And I do like it enough so far that I will certainly try and collect it somewhere, even if just on AO3, in a tidier fashion where it can be kept or downloaded. But at the moment, it's still all early days, which is a nice feeling in itself.
In the meantime, I tried to photograph my maps with my phone, and re. the starting point, here is the terribly scribbly original map (I will hopefully do a clean one for the post eventually, but this is all there is for now):
no subject
I find the entire idea of a prompt community for original fiction really interesting. I'm glad it works!
I suppose because I think people will assume it's about me finding x or y sexy when thank you I took my casting director role here very seriously! (mostly. occasionally there are jokes. which sometimes backfire.)
(a) In case it makes a difference, I never assume that people have crushes on the actors their characters draw from. I tend not to assume people have crushes period unless they say as much.
(b) I'm just saying, if Marran Delver isn't meant to have such big Martin Jarvis energy, then he shouldn't go around with his microexpressions.
(And if they're somebody else's microexpressions, I'm very sorry, but the character started to show up in your work around the same time the actor crashed through my screen and here we are.)
Not all the characters are, though, because once some of them are, that provides a framework that sometimes shapes others fully already.
One of my favorite stories about character-writing comes from Le Guin's essay on her novelette "Nine Lives" (1969) in Those Who Can: A Science Fiction Reader (1973) in which she explains how she sat down to write a story about clones and instead got a middle-aged Welsh geologist, nearsighted, untidy, quirky, and obstinate, and only after she had finished the story did she realize that he had to be all of these things because the ten-member clone were all ferociously efficient and young and homogeneously normal and American: the negative space of what he he was. (He is one of the characters Bertie Owen was named after. I remain very fond of him.)
But the isurrendered fake TV shows were revolutionary to me in how helpful casting was to deal with some of my weaker points in writing. But also omg no one should know! What if they Think Things?? Even when it's painfully obvious (or to me at least).
I expect literally no one to notice that there is some of Peter Capaldi's Frobisher from Torchwood: Children of Earth (2009) in my version of Namtar in "Cuneiform Toast," but he still ended up there. I do assume that anyone conversant with ITV's Casting the Runes (1979) will detect echoes in "Tea with the Earl of Twilight," mostly centered around Edward Petherbridge. The novella isn't online to link to, but it is a matter of record that the writing of "The Salt House" was jumpstarted by seeing, within weeks of one another in the summer of 2006, I Capture the Castle and Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest and consequently one of the characters has a serious infusion of Bill Nighy, although his daughter is not played by Romola Garai. I have one friend a lot of whose characters were influenced by music and musicians from the British folk revival. I think it's not unusual.
Anyway, there's been an interesting lot of TV/film watching going on the last year or so and only a couple of them got out of hand, so that's also a positive.
I have been secondhand enjoying the Jeremy Northam blitz!
And thank you so much for saying this; it means a lot. In my head, this is very much what I would like in the end, too - to have something that might work in at least some sort of little self-pub collection, but I also know that realistically it's very unlikely unless things change for the better. But if it does, I have dreams that maybe aren't all that unrealistic after all!
If the stamina for the logistics of making the self-publication happen is the sticking point, it is not unrealistic for people to help out with such things. In the meantime, I will be delighted by the writing whenever it happens. It doesn't look anywhere near endgame from my side, so I look forward without expectations to the rest of it.
And I do like it enough so far that I will certainly try and collect it somewhere, even if just on AO3, in a tidier fashion where it can be kept or downloaded. But at the moment, it's still all early days, which is a nice feeling in itself.
Good!
In the meantime, I tried to photograph my maps with my phone, and re. the starting point, here is the terribly scribbly original map (I will hopefully do a clean one for the post eventually, but this is all there is for now)
Thank you! That's great.
no subject
Heh, I knew there was no way you hadn't spotted that one by now, now I know you've been reading them! ♥ (That was the joke that backfired - I had him in the previous canon and never actually used him, so I thought I should put him in this one and I had 8 District Governors and one High Governor to sort out, so... And then I rewatched Varos for important research and suddenly things got out of hand. But since I had a nice time and then also you had a nice time and not only did the casting work out, but I even found Breakaway and then these thousand and one radio dramas, so not too dusty, really. XD)
I like your casting choices too! All distinctive voices as well as faces, yes. And, yes, I know - I think I first came across it when I was reading Cornelia Funke's The Thief Lord and the dedication was something like "To Bob Hoskins, who looks just like Victor." (She also apparently mentally cast Brendan Fraser in Inkheart and then they got him for the film, which was a nice thing, really.)
♥
no subject
It was an invaluable accidental crash course! I would have had to extrapolate much more about Portcallan-era Marran without The Forsyte Saga.
That was the joke that backfired - I had him in the previous canon and never actually used him, so I thought I should put him in this one and I had 8 District Governors and one High Governor to sort out, so... And then I rewatched Varos for important research and suddenly things got out of hand.
I do see how that happened.
But since I had a nice time and then also you had a nice time and not only did the casting work out, but I even found Breakaway and then these thousand and one radio dramas, so not too dusty, really.
Win all round from my perspective. Marran Delver is my favorite character, in case it is not equally obvious from space.
I don't recognize your casting for Zila or Leaira—may I ask? Viyony I feel I should recognize, but perhaps only at second hand.
I like your casting choices too! All distinctive voices as well as faces, yes.
Thank you!
(She also apparently mentally cast Brendan Fraser in Inkheart and then they got him for the film, which was a nice thing, really.)
That is great; I feel like that never actually happens.
no subject
Whcih reminds me - did you and your Mum ever make it to the end?
Win all round from my perspective. Marran Delver is my favorite character, in case it is not equally obvious from space.
Aww. ♥ (I'm not sure who mine is at the mo, but then I have a head full of plans and two notebooks full of untyped things, so I'm in a very different position. BUt he does have all the interesting backstory and as well as being a catalyst, while the rest are mostly younger and still working on what will be their backstory one day.)
I don't recognize your casting for Zila or Leaira—may I ask? Viyony I feel I should recognize, but perhaps only at second hand.
I kind of deliberately chose non-typical shots for the icons, so I'm glad to hear it worked, heh. (Well, also ones that just looked right in some way.) Leaira's casting also came from the original nameless librarian, who has been Gugu Mbatha-Raw for a long time; for Zila's I used Tiya Sircar and for Viyony, Shelley Conn.
That is great; I feel like that never actually happens.
Yes, even if nothing else, there's been too long a time gap for when the author thought of it (and which role of theirs played into it) through book publication to adaptation for it to be viable, but it was a nice thing. (It gets even more meta later on, because Inkheart is the name of a fantasy book within the novel and the author of that book, Fenoglio, when he winds up living inside his own novel in the second two, starts tinkering and adds in a character based on Mo (the character based on Brendan Fraser) and then Mo winds up inside the book and nearly dying of becoming the fictional hero based on himself. (The film is only of the first book, though, so less meta.))
Although I have no idea if she also intended that, but as soon as I found at that fact I always copnfidently imagined Mo's wife Resa as Rachel Weisz, because you would, wouldn't you? XD
no subject
We did not! We made it into the Jon-and-Fleur material and then the DVDs were due back to the library at the same time as
Leaira's casting also came from the original nameless librarian, who has been Gugu Mbatha-Raw for a long time; for Zila's I used Tiya Sircar and for Viyony, Shelley Conn.
Okay: I have seen Gugu Mbatha-Raw, but only in Fast Color (2018), although both she and it are great; I have seen Shelley Conn, as I thought, in other people's icons and gifs because of Bridgerton and Good Omens; I have not seen Tiya Sircar.
and then Mo winds up inside the book and nearly dying of becoming the fictional hero based on himself. (The film is only of the first book, though, so less meta.)
I am sorry no one filmed that, since I would have loved to see Brendan Fraser play it.
Although I have no idea if she also intended that, but as soon as I found at that fact I always copnfidently imagined Mo's wife Resa as Rachel Weisz, because you would, wouldn't you?
Sounds legit to me.
no subject
Oh, well, I'm glad you at least did make it to the third generation! I hope it works out again. As you know, I like that part, even if there are a lot of board meetings in the middle. :-)
Okay: I have seen Gugu Mbatha-Raw, but only in Fast Color (2018), although both she and it are great; I have seen Shelley Conn, as I thought, in other people's icons and gifs because of Bridgerton and Good Omens; I have not seen Tiya Sircar.
Gugu Mbatha-Raw was in a lot of UK TV back in the 2000s - both DW and Spooks for a while, so I know her from lots of things; Shelley Conn also guested in a lot of things and I know her from Mistresses and she turned up in Death in Paradise when I was binge-watching unwise amounts of it earlier this year and her turn in that got me thinking and that's where Viyony came from. I am intermittently watching my way through Terra Nova for research (and that's where I got the caps for the icon). I have not seen Bridgerton or GO s2 either! Tiya Sircar was great in The Good Place and then when I was looking her up, it turned out she also voiced Sabine in SW: Rebels, which unexpectedly turned out to be one of my favourite bits of SW.
(linked are my tumblr tags for research, although all three of those need work, but apparently I have to do it all myself if I want suitable things and I've been meh about giffing most of the year.)
I am sorry no one filmed that, since I would have loved to see Brendan Fraser play it.
It would have been very interesting, not least because I'm not sure how they would have adapted the second two parts of the trilogy, but i would certainly, like you, have been up for finding out. XD
no subject
The *tension* in this is just nail-bitingly good!
no subject
no subject
no subject
If you liked the map, I did finish the information post with all of the current ones in: https://starfall-stories.dreamwidth.org/21726.html
I second the encouragement for this to become a self-pub collection, in whatever form it takes, because it's such a cool and multi-layered story! <3
Aw, that is very sweet of you! (It is very unlikely at the mo, but it is extremely lovely to hear nevertheless. I can still dream!)
no subject
Their current form is just as valid--I like reading stories as they pop up, it's a bit like reading a serial in a magazine! <3
no subject