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rainbowfic2023-12-06 08:49 pm
thisbluespirit) wrote in rainbowfic2023-12-06 08:49 pm
Azul #1; Light Black #5 [Starfall]
Name: Winter in the Waste
Story: Starfall
Colors: Azul #1 (Shelter); Light Black #5 (fall)
Supplies and Styles: Chiaroscuro + Novelty Beads (Birthday prompt (2019?) - "Grey skies above".)
Word Count: 1902
Rating: PG
Warnings: None/some disorientation.
Notes: 1317, North Fort; Leaira Modelen, Marran Delver, Ennan Hilten, Jaian Fyler. (Follows on from Point of No Return.)
Summary: Leaira is trapped twenty years in the past. It’s cold, it’s bleak and she needs to get out of here.
“We won’t eat you.” The person who looked impossibly like a young Governor Delver continued to hold his hand out to Leaira. He tried an encouraging smile when she didn’t move. “Hilten did think you might be something we could take back for dinner when he first saw you, but we’re not that desperate yet.”
Hilten, behind Leaira, holding onto her gave a cough. “Captain.”
“Yes, sorry,” he said, drawing back. He raised his glance skywards. “Don’t mind my terrible sense of humour. We must get back – the weather seems to be on the turn again and we’ve gone as far as we can anyhow. The pass is still unreachable.”
Leaira tugged herself free of Hilten’s hold. Her head remained befogged and even though she’d put on a quilted coat for her walk, it wasn’t sufficient to keep out the cold here – wherever here was. Given the nature of the Paths, she couldn’t be sure of anything. “I can’t go with you – I have to get back to the Paths – I can’t stay here!”
“We can’t make it through to the pass,” Hilten said slowly, as if that would help her understand. “Like Captain Delver said, Imai –?”
Leaira had been trying to avoid looking at the Captain. Now she had to. It was Marran Delver, standing there, waiting for her to speak, although he was already poised to go. She put a hand to her head, half ready to collapse again. “Not the pass, the Paths – the Boundary Paths, the Circle!”
“We can’t get near enough to the nearest entrance to the Paths either,” said Captain Delver, taking a few steps back through the snow to reach her. He grasped her gloved hands in his and surveyed her with more gravity than before. “You came through the Paths? Did Starfall send you?”
Leaira blinked away tears that turned icy and stung her face. “I need to go back! Someone – I – I – someone is hurt! I can’t just let them die!” She took a deep breath and tried again not to look at Delver. In her mind’s eye, she saw instead the Governor falling away from her at the last moment, already badly injured. She shut her eyes.
Hilten shifted about from foot to foot, making light crunching sounds in the snow. “Captain.”
Delver bent in towards Leaira. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do. We can’t leave you here – you’d die. Besides, we’ll need to prove your story – the Colonel will want to speak to you.” He frowned, watching her. “Do you understand?”
“No, no.” Leaira stumbled back into the snow. “Let me go!” She couldn’t seem to think – walking the Paths was disorientating, and the snow creature had breathed on her and robbed her of her wits even before she'd entered them. Everything seemed to have existed in a world of fog ever since.
“Hilten.”
The other soldier reached a hand down and hauled her up. “Come on, Imai, you have to come with us. It’ll be all right. We’ll take you up to the Boundary Circle as soon as we can.”
Leaira choked back a sob that might otherwise have turned into something uncontrollable and made herself catch hold of Hilten’s proffered hand. He helped her stand and smile. From this angle, she could see him clearly for the first time. He was shorter, slighter, and younger than the Captain, with an open face; his skin a shade darker than her own. Leaira opened her mouth to try and explain her woolly-headedness, but the cold defeated her, her teeth chattering.
“Hurry up,” Delver ordered Hilten. The younger soldier nodded and then marched Leaira along, gripping her arm firmly.
The three of them made their way down the lower slopes of the mountainside, stopping when they reached what looked to Leaira like a vast, gently waving sea of white. It merged with a blank grey sky threaded through with wisps of pale mist. She blinked, unsure if it was real or her eyes had given up on making sense of anything along with her mind. At the edge, between where the ground's incline grew sharper, they'd left a sledge. It had a piece of sacking over the top of several unidentifiable small items, visible only in the vaguest outline underneath.
“You’re in the Wastelands,” said Delver, catching Leaira staring at her surroundings. “We’re part of the military detail at North Fort. It’s not far from here. Can you walk? We could pull you along, but I think you ought to keep moving – keep warm.”
Leaira nodded. After that, it wasn’t too hard to put one foot in front of the other, as long as she didn’t think about the Governor or what odd memories she retained of the mess they must have left behind them at Starfall. Hilten kept his hand on her arm, helping her along. The terrain was utterly flat but for ripples in the snow left by the wind. Leaira settled into a vague, dreamlike state, as she trudged on through the alien snowy void until, eventually – minutes or hours later - she glimpsed the towers of a great grey stone edifice, obscured by the mist until it suddenly solidified in front of them.
A flake of snow landed on Leaira’s nose. She brushed it away, shivering at the memory of the snow wolves up on Imor’s Gate, back in the future.
Captain Delver exchanged a glance with Hilten. “Quickly!” Delver barked.
Hilten broke into a run, dragging Leaira with him, while the Captain followed as fast as he could with the sled. The snow, still tiny flecks yet, fell faster. Somewhere behind them, something howled.
“Hilten,” said the Captain suddenly, more sharply. “Hilten!”
Leaira couldn’t work out what had alarmed him until she fell backwards right out of Hilten’s hold, and passed out.
Leaira was aware of being manhandled inside by one or both of them, but she had gone past worrying about the details. She half-registered a gloomy stone hall within, and being handed over to another soldier, who picked her up in their arms. Captain Delver fired out orders in tones that were immensely distant and unimportant. She leant against the stranger, too far gone to care about anything other than her own exhaustion, closed her eyes and let it all go.
She recovered what was left of her wits sitting full-length on an infirmary bed with a faded green blanket draped around her shoulders. She breathed out and leant back against the thin feather pillow behind her.
The physician, marked out by the long, loose grey jacket she wore over her clothes, approached her. She had light-skin and a general faded air – pale blue eyes, greying blonde hair, and softly-worn face. “Good. You’re back with us, now, yes? What’s your name?”
“Adeleaira.” She shivered under the blanket. They’d helped her out of the bloodied and damp quilted coat and boots, but her trousers, jacket and shirt underneath weren’t in a much better state. “Where am I?”
“North Fort. Captain Delver and Soldier Hilten found you not far from the pass – do you remember that?”
Leaira nodded. “Yes, thank you. I’m feeling a bit m-more myself.” She tugged the blanket closer. Captain Delver. That had been real, too, and no mistake on her part. She had stepped off the Paths and into the past. She’d been thinking of the Governor she'd had his blood on her hands, and the Paths had led her to this time when he’d been living close to the Boundary Circle. He’d kept telling her she’d understand soon. Now she did.
(“If you aren’t careful on the Paths, you can end up anywhere,” Cam Tolling had warned her two years ago, when she’d first come to Starfall. “They aren’t in our reality – our universe. Time doesn’t exist there as we know it.”)
“We need to get you out of those clothes and into bed,” said the physician. She had a long nightshirt hanging over her arm, presumably ready for Leaira to use. “I’m Jaian Fyler. I’m the medical officer here.” She paused, her brow furrowing. “There was blood on your coat and it’s not yours. Is there anybody else we should be looking for?”
Leaira had to bite her lip to prevent herself from breaking into laughter that might rapidly become hysteria. It was far too soon for them to go looking for the Governor – twenty or so years early. She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. “That happened – elsewhere. I came through the Boundary Paths. The only way I can help them is to go back, but Captain – the Captain said it was impossible.”
“I see,” said Jaian, although Leaira wasn’t convinced she did. She set about moving a wooden screen across and then departed to let Leaira shed her clothes, put on the nightshirt and scramble into the bed. The sheets felt harder against her skin than the linen she was used to. It could have been much worse, she reminded herself. She could have fallen out a hundredlengths from the Paths, or thought of even worse times and places than this.
When Jaian returned, she brought Leaira a hot water bottle wrapped in a cover of the same material as the blanket, and then waved someone else over with a tray that had a hot drink and a bowl of soup that looked thin and grey, but smelled tasty enough to make Leaira’s stomach grumble. It would, after all, be another twenty years before she’d have had her last meal.
“Where is the Captain?” she asked. She picked up the spoon and dipped it into the soup, investigating the contents, which seemed to be largely water and stock and little white dumplings, with some strips of cabbage and root vegetables.
Jaian had been about to move away, and paused. “I sent him out. He wanted to question you, but I wasn't having any interrogations until you were feeling more yourself. Now, eat that – slowly.”
“I don’t mind,” said Leaira. “I think I’d rather explain as soon as I can.” Seeing Marran Delver like this was unnerving, but he was also the most familiar face she might find anywhere in the whole northerly regions at this date.
The physician nodded. “I’ll let him know.”
Leaira waited for the soup to cool and then risked a sip, screwing up her face even before she tasted it. The flavour was about as weak and watery as it looked, although it wasn’t unpleasant and it was warming.
“Not what you’re used to?” said Captain Delver, rounding the screen between her and the next bed unexpectedly.
Leaira spluttered and he leaned over to take the tray from her before she sent it flying.
“Careful,” he said, smiling as he put it down on the table by her bed. “Mustn't waste rations.”
Leaira watched him move away to find a chair and carry it over. It still seemed unreal about seeing him like this. His voice was lighter; he moved and smiled more easily. The Governor had not only been older, but more cautious – wearier, perhaps, weighed down by time and secrets. This Marran Delver was a long way yet from becoming the man she had met at Starfall.
Marran straightened the chair and then sat on it. “Hello again. I, as you may or may not remember, am Captain Marran Delver. I think it’s time we talked, don’t you?”
Story: Starfall
Colors: Azul #1 (Shelter); Light Black #5 (fall)
Supplies and Styles: Chiaroscuro + Novelty Beads (Birthday prompt (2019?) - "Grey skies above".)
Word Count: 1902
Rating: PG
Warnings: None/some disorientation.
Notes: 1317, North Fort; Leaira Modelen, Marran Delver, Ennan Hilten, Jaian Fyler. (Follows on from Point of No Return.)
Summary: Leaira is trapped twenty years in the past. It’s cold, it’s bleak and she needs to get out of here.
“We won’t eat you.” The person who looked impossibly like a young Governor Delver continued to hold his hand out to Leaira. He tried an encouraging smile when she didn’t move. “Hilten did think you might be something we could take back for dinner when he first saw you, but we’re not that desperate yet.”
Hilten, behind Leaira, holding onto her gave a cough. “Captain.”
“Yes, sorry,” he said, drawing back. He raised his glance skywards. “Don’t mind my terrible sense of humour. We must get back – the weather seems to be on the turn again and we’ve gone as far as we can anyhow. The pass is still unreachable.”
Leaira tugged herself free of Hilten’s hold. Her head remained befogged and even though she’d put on a quilted coat for her walk, it wasn’t sufficient to keep out the cold here – wherever here was. Given the nature of the Paths, she couldn’t be sure of anything. “I can’t go with you – I have to get back to the Paths – I can’t stay here!”
“We can’t make it through to the pass,” Hilten said slowly, as if that would help her understand. “Like Captain Delver said, Imai –?”
Leaira had been trying to avoid looking at the Captain. Now she had to. It was Marran Delver, standing there, waiting for her to speak, although he was already poised to go. She put a hand to her head, half ready to collapse again. “Not the pass, the Paths – the Boundary Paths, the Circle!”
“We can’t get near enough to the nearest entrance to the Paths either,” said Captain Delver, taking a few steps back through the snow to reach her. He grasped her gloved hands in his and surveyed her with more gravity than before. “You came through the Paths? Did Starfall send you?”
Leaira blinked away tears that turned icy and stung her face. “I need to go back! Someone – I – I – someone is hurt! I can’t just let them die!” She took a deep breath and tried again not to look at Delver. In her mind’s eye, she saw instead the Governor falling away from her at the last moment, already badly injured. She shut her eyes.
Hilten shifted about from foot to foot, making light crunching sounds in the snow. “Captain.”
Delver bent in towards Leaira. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do. We can’t leave you here – you’d die. Besides, we’ll need to prove your story – the Colonel will want to speak to you.” He frowned, watching her. “Do you understand?”
“No, no.” Leaira stumbled back into the snow. “Let me go!” She couldn’t seem to think – walking the Paths was disorientating, and the snow creature had breathed on her and robbed her of her wits even before she'd entered them. Everything seemed to have existed in a world of fog ever since.
“Hilten.”
The other soldier reached a hand down and hauled her up. “Come on, Imai, you have to come with us. It’ll be all right. We’ll take you up to the Boundary Circle as soon as we can.”
Leaira choked back a sob that might otherwise have turned into something uncontrollable and made herself catch hold of Hilten’s proffered hand. He helped her stand and smile. From this angle, she could see him clearly for the first time. He was shorter, slighter, and younger than the Captain, with an open face; his skin a shade darker than her own. Leaira opened her mouth to try and explain her woolly-headedness, but the cold defeated her, her teeth chattering.
“Hurry up,” Delver ordered Hilten. The younger soldier nodded and then marched Leaira along, gripping her arm firmly.
The three of them made their way down the lower slopes of the mountainside, stopping when they reached what looked to Leaira like a vast, gently waving sea of white. It merged with a blank grey sky threaded through with wisps of pale mist. She blinked, unsure if it was real or her eyes had given up on making sense of anything along with her mind. At the edge, between where the ground's incline grew sharper, they'd left a sledge. It had a piece of sacking over the top of several unidentifiable small items, visible only in the vaguest outline underneath.
“You’re in the Wastelands,” said Delver, catching Leaira staring at her surroundings. “We’re part of the military detail at North Fort. It’s not far from here. Can you walk? We could pull you along, but I think you ought to keep moving – keep warm.”
Leaira nodded. After that, it wasn’t too hard to put one foot in front of the other, as long as she didn’t think about the Governor or what odd memories she retained of the mess they must have left behind them at Starfall. Hilten kept his hand on her arm, helping her along. The terrain was utterly flat but for ripples in the snow left by the wind. Leaira settled into a vague, dreamlike state, as she trudged on through the alien snowy void until, eventually – minutes or hours later - she glimpsed the towers of a great grey stone edifice, obscured by the mist until it suddenly solidified in front of them.
A flake of snow landed on Leaira’s nose. She brushed it away, shivering at the memory of the snow wolves up on Imor’s Gate, back in the future.
Captain Delver exchanged a glance with Hilten. “Quickly!” Delver barked.
Hilten broke into a run, dragging Leaira with him, while the Captain followed as fast as he could with the sled. The snow, still tiny flecks yet, fell faster. Somewhere behind them, something howled.
“Hilten,” said the Captain suddenly, more sharply. “Hilten!”
Leaira couldn’t work out what had alarmed him until she fell backwards right out of Hilten’s hold, and passed out.
Leaira was aware of being manhandled inside by one or both of them, but she had gone past worrying about the details. She half-registered a gloomy stone hall within, and being handed over to another soldier, who picked her up in their arms. Captain Delver fired out orders in tones that were immensely distant and unimportant. She leant against the stranger, too far gone to care about anything other than her own exhaustion, closed her eyes and let it all go.
She recovered what was left of her wits sitting full-length on an infirmary bed with a faded green blanket draped around her shoulders. She breathed out and leant back against the thin feather pillow behind her.
The physician, marked out by the long, loose grey jacket she wore over her clothes, approached her. She had light-skin and a general faded air – pale blue eyes, greying blonde hair, and softly-worn face. “Good. You’re back with us, now, yes? What’s your name?”
“Adeleaira.” She shivered under the blanket. They’d helped her out of the bloodied and damp quilted coat and boots, but her trousers, jacket and shirt underneath weren’t in a much better state. “Where am I?”
“North Fort. Captain Delver and Soldier Hilten found you not far from the pass – do you remember that?”
Leaira nodded. “Yes, thank you. I’m feeling a bit m-more myself.” She tugged the blanket closer. Captain Delver. That had been real, too, and no mistake on her part. She had stepped off the Paths and into the past. She’d been thinking of the Governor she'd had his blood on her hands, and the Paths had led her to this time when he’d been living close to the Boundary Circle. He’d kept telling her she’d understand soon. Now she did.
(“If you aren’t careful on the Paths, you can end up anywhere,” Cam Tolling had warned her two years ago, when she’d first come to Starfall. “They aren’t in our reality – our universe. Time doesn’t exist there as we know it.”)
“We need to get you out of those clothes and into bed,” said the physician. She had a long nightshirt hanging over her arm, presumably ready for Leaira to use. “I’m Jaian Fyler. I’m the medical officer here.” She paused, her brow furrowing. “There was blood on your coat and it’s not yours. Is there anybody else we should be looking for?”
Leaira had to bite her lip to prevent herself from breaking into laughter that might rapidly become hysteria. It was far too soon for them to go looking for the Governor – twenty or so years early. She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. “That happened – elsewhere. I came through the Boundary Paths. The only way I can help them is to go back, but Captain – the Captain said it was impossible.”
“I see,” said Jaian, although Leaira wasn’t convinced she did. She set about moving a wooden screen across and then departed to let Leaira shed her clothes, put on the nightshirt and scramble into the bed. The sheets felt harder against her skin than the linen she was used to. It could have been much worse, she reminded herself. She could have fallen out a hundredlengths from the Paths, or thought of even worse times and places than this.
When Jaian returned, she brought Leaira a hot water bottle wrapped in a cover of the same material as the blanket, and then waved someone else over with a tray that had a hot drink and a bowl of soup that looked thin and grey, but smelled tasty enough to make Leaira’s stomach grumble. It would, after all, be another twenty years before she’d have had her last meal.
“Where is the Captain?” she asked. She picked up the spoon and dipped it into the soup, investigating the contents, which seemed to be largely water and stock and little white dumplings, with some strips of cabbage and root vegetables.
Jaian had been about to move away, and paused. “I sent him out. He wanted to question you, but I wasn't having any interrogations until you were feeling more yourself. Now, eat that – slowly.”
“I don’t mind,” said Leaira. “I think I’d rather explain as soon as I can.” Seeing Marran Delver like this was unnerving, but he was also the most familiar face she might find anywhere in the whole northerly regions at this date.
The physician nodded. “I’ll let him know.”
Leaira waited for the soup to cool and then risked a sip, screwing up her face even before she tasted it. The flavour was about as weak and watery as it looked, although it wasn’t unpleasant and it was warming.
“Not what you’re used to?” said Captain Delver, rounding the screen between her and the next bed unexpectedly.
Leaira spluttered and he leaned over to take the tray from her before she sent it flying.
“Careful,” he said, smiling as he put it down on the table by her bed. “Mustn't waste rations.”
Leaira watched him move away to find a chair and carry it over. It still seemed unreal about seeing him like this. His voice was lighter; he moved and smiled more easily. The Governor had not only been older, but more cautious – wearier, perhaps, weighed down by time and secrets. This Marran Delver was a long way yet from becoming the man she had met at Starfall.
Marran straightened the chair and then sat on it. “Hello again. I, as you may or may not remember, am Captain Marran Delver. I think it’s time we talked, don’t you?”
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