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rainbowfic2012-05-01 10:03 am
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2012-05-01 10:03 am
Brown #5, Burnt Umber #17, Tyrian Purple #30
Name: kay_brooke
Story: The Myrrosta
Colors: Brown #5 (brown bagging), Burnt Umber #17 (Sudetes), Tyrian Purple #30 (mother of monsters)
Styles/Supplies: Charcoal
Word Count: 1,719
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply
Summary: Railohn and his mother, running for their lives.
Notes: Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
"Stop here."
Railohn turned around and waited for his mother to catch up. She did eventually, her breathing labored, a funny wheezing coming from her throat. Her hand was pressed tightly against her side, as if she had a stitch. From beneath her hand, a dark stain was spreading across her white shift.
"You're bleeding," he said.
She stopped and leaned over. "I'm fine," she gasped. "I need to tell you something."
"What?" Railohn didn't think his mother was fine at all, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. His life had been strange ever since she had taken him from the family he had up until that point believed was his true one. Since then he had lived among humans in luxury, had been told that he was to rule all of them one day, had been forced to keep himself disguised as a human child who had in reality died a year ago, and then finally bundled into a carriage while the large main building in the Court had burned.
Their time was over, his mother had said, but she hadn't been talking about herself or her son. The humans may have uncovered their plan and driven them out, his mother said, but they didn't understand what they had done.
"We have to live," she had told him.
"Where are we going?" he had asked.
"Back to Okkand," she said. "Back to Grandfather. He'll tell us what to do next."
Railohn had wondered if she would let him go back to the family he had known as a small child. He missed them a lot, even now. But his mother didn't like it when he mentioned them, so he said nothing.
Then it had all gotten very bad.
His mother had stolen food, vegetables laid out to dry on the deck of a dwelling-boat they had stumbled across floating serenely near the bank of a stream. His mother hadn't expected to see anyone there because they were so far from other human dwellings, and for a whole day she had kept the both of them crouched in the hollow of the tree, watching the boat. Railohn slept, but when he woke his mother hadn't moved.
She was waiting for the humans to go to sleep, because they needed water and his mother couldn't obtain it while the humans were alert. They could have left, Railohn thought, they could have left and come out on the bank of the stream at some other point, where there would be no humans. But it wasn't just the water his mother had her eyes on.
The humans had food on their boat, a type of water plant that came from the streams in the area. Railohn had eaten it before and he didn't like it, but his mother had explained that sometimes they didn't have a choice. His mother didn't know the plants around here, she had explained, and all she could identify were the things that she had eaten while she was a resident of the Court of Jaharta (she said "resident" like it was a nasty word, and Railohn knew it was because she had seen herself as the Lady of the Court, and her son as the rightful heir to first the Councilor and then to the Emperor. But then the humans had turned against them). This particular water plant, she said, she at least knew was safe to eat.
Railohn hadn't said anything, because he had learned there was little he could say that would make his mother feel better when she started talking about the things she had lost, and more often than not whatever he said only made her angry.
The humans had settled down not long after dark, but Railohn's mother had waited until the stillest part of the night before she made her move, slinking out of the tree hollow and stepping soundlessly toward the boat. The vegetables were laid on the deck to soak in the moonlight. It was something the commoners did here, his mother had told him. They thought the moon was a god, that it had special powers of protection that it would transfer to food that was laid out in its light.
The boat itself wasn't right against the bank, and they had laid traps besides. But those were no problem for Railohn's mother, and she leapt soundlessly to the boat from the bank, floating as lightly as the air itself. There she crouched for just a moment before she started making her way toward the food.
Later, Railohn wondered why she hadn't seen him. Or maybe she had seen him, and had thought he was asleep. But there was a guard next to the food, one of the young male humans. He had a knife, and he was awake. Lying very still and quiet, but awake just the same. Railohn's mother hadn't even known he was there until he had snapped up and, without even a shout of warning, had slid his knife into the salkiy's abdomen.
He would have done more, because he had taken her by surprise, but Railohn was watching her and he hadn't been injured. He had panicked a little bit, and had lashed out with the first thing that come to mind, which was fire. And his aim was off, because he ended up setting the boat aflame instead of the human.
It didn't matter, because what he had done turned out to be just as effective. The human shouted and dropped his knife, moving instead toward the flames. He wouldn't let the boat burn.
Railohn's mother was hurt, but she knew how to take advantage of a situation. She stumbled off the boat, much less graceful than she had been only moments before, and had run toward Railohn with a lurching gait, favoring her injured side, her hand pressed against the open wound in her belly.
"Run, Railohn!" she had said. "Run as fast as you can into the forest. Don't worry about me."
He had run; he thought he cared about his mother, but he didn't think he cared about her enough to stay behind to protect her. He didn't want to die. He didn't know if that made him bad. Wasn't one supposed to be willing to give one's life for one's mother?
His other mother, the one he had thought was his real mother for his whole life up until two years ago, he thought he might be willing to give his life for. But that was wrong, wasn't it? Because she wasn't his real mother, and he was supposed to be willing to die for his real mother.
The mother he was rapidly leaving behind, his feet pounding against the forest floor, all of his senses engaged to prevent tripping over stones or tree roots.
He had run for awhile, and then she had spoken in his mind, telling him to stop, and he had done so and waited until she caught up to him.
"You have to continue," she told him. "Continue on to Okkand."
He was focused on her wound. "You're bleeding. You have to stop bleeding." She was his real mother and he couldn't give his life for her, but he didn't want her to die.
She smiled at him. "I will. I'll see a healer."
He shook his head. "There aren't any salkiys here."
"I'll find a healer in Okkand." She coughed a little and took a deep breath. "But I'm going to be a little slow, so I need you to go on without me."
"I don't know the way," he protested.
She placed her clean hand on his shoulder. "I know," she said. "Listen to me. Go north, toward the mountains. Do you remember the stories of Border Glory?"
He nodded; that was his mother's favorite story, and she had told him many times about the prophecy of the savior. It was important for him to learn that history, since he was the prophesied savior.
"Go north, across the great river. You'll find rafts to take you and no one will ask you questions. Find the valley. You remember the landmarks from the story?"
He nodded again, but he was frightened. He knew the stories as well as he knew himself, but he had never thought he would have to use them as a map. Suddenly the world seemed very large. He wasn't even sure which direction north was.
"Don't worry," said his mother, reading his thoughts. "You know how to find your way around. You'll remember, once the suns rise. It's only your fear that's making you forget. But I've taught you everything you need to know."
"Yes," he whispered.
"Go north," she repeated. "Find the valley, the ruins of Border Glory. There will be a dwelling in the valley near the ruins. A salkiy lives there by the name of Darmon. Find him, and he will tell you how to find Grandfather."
"Darmon," Railohn repeated.
"Yes. He's a good friend to Grandfather. Tell him that I'm your mother, and what you are. He'll know to take you to Grandfather, and Grandfather will know what to do. He'll keep you safe."
"Until you come to get me," Railohn said uncertainly.
She nodded. "Until I come for you. Go north." And she turned him gently so that he was facing away from her. "That way is north."
He took a deep breath and turned back to look at her. "I'll stay with you until you find a healer, and then I'll go."
"No," she said sharply. "You can't waste time. There's too much work to be done."
"What work?"
"Grandfather will explain," she said. "Now go. You have time before the suns rise. When the sky gets light, find a place to hide. Don't talk to anyone until you're in Okkand. Let as few humans as possible see you. Don't eat plants you don't recognize. Do you understand?"
"Yes," he said, his voice strangled with fear and uncertainty.
"Good," she said. "Go. Now."
He hesitated, but it was only for a moment. Then, for the second time that night, he turned his back on his mother and left her behind, slipping away into the night.
He looked back only once, but his mother was already out of sight.
kay_brookeStory: The Myrrosta
Colors: Brown #5 (brown bagging), Burnt Umber #17 (Sudetes), Tyrian Purple #30 (mother of monsters)
Styles/Supplies: Charcoal
Word Count: 1,719
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply
Summary: Railohn and his mother, running for their lives.
Notes: Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
"Stop here."
Railohn turned around and waited for his mother to catch up. She did eventually, her breathing labored, a funny wheezing coming from her throat. Her hand was pressed tightly against her side, as if she had a stitch. From beneath her hand, a dark stain was spreading across her white shift.
"You're bleeding," he said.
She stopped and leaned over. "I'm fine," she gasped. "I need to tell you something."
"What?" Railohn didn't think his mother was fine at all, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. His life had been strange ever since she had taken him from the family he had up until that point believed was his true one. Since then he had lived among humans in luxury, had been told that he was to rule all of them one day, had been forced to keep himself disguised as a human child who had in reality died a year ago, and then finally bundled into a carriage while the large main building in the Court had burned.
Their time was over, his mother had said, but she hadn't been talking about herself or her son. The humans may have uncovered their plan and driven them out, his mother said, but they didn't understand what they had done.
"We have to live," she had told him.
"Where are we going?" he had asked.
"Back to Okkand," she said. "Back to Grandfather. He'll tell us what to do next."
Railohn had wondered if she would let him go back to the family he had known as a small child. He missed them a lot, even now. But his mother didn't like it when he mentioned them, so he said nothing.
Then it had all gotten very bad.
His mother had stolen food, vegetables laid out to dry on the deck of a dwelling-boat they had stumbled across floating serenely near the bank of a stream. His mother hadn't expected to see anyone there because they were so far from other human dwellings, and for a whole day she had kept the both of them crouched in the hollow of the tree, watching the boat. Railohn slept, but when he woke his mother hadn't moved.
She was waiting for the humans to go to sleep, because they needed water and his mother couldn't obtain it while the humans were alert. They could have left, Railohn thought, they could have left and come out on the bank of the stream at some other point, where there would be no humans. But it wasn't just the water his mother had her eyes on.
The humans had food on their boat, a type of water plant that came from the streams in the area. Railohn had eaten it before and he didn't like it, but his mother had explained that sometimes they didn't have a choice. His mother didn't know the plants around here, she had explained, and all she could identify were the things that she had eaten while she was a resident of the Court of Jaharta (she said "resident" like it was a nasty word, and Railohn knew it was because she had seen herself as the Lady of the Court, and her son as the rightful heir to first the Councilor and then to the Emperor. But then the humans had turned against them). This particular water plant, she said, she at least knew was safe to eat.
Railohn hadn't said anything, because he had learned there was little he could say that would make his mother feel better when she started talking about the things she had lost, and more often than not whatever he said only made her angry.
The humans had settled down not long after dark, but Railohn's mother had waited until the stillest part of the night before she made her move, slinking out of the tree hollow and stepping soundlessly toward the boat. The vegetables were laid on the deck to soak in the moonlight. It was something the commoners did here, his mother had told him. They thought the moon was a god, that it had special powers of protection that it would transfer to food that was laid out in its light.
The boat itself wasn't right against the bank, and they had laid traps besides. But those were no problem for Railohn's mother, and she leapt soundlessly to the boat from the bank, floating as lightly as the air itself. There she crouched for just a moment before she started making her way toward the food.
Later, Railohn wondered why she hadn't seen him. Or maybe she had seen him, and had thought he was asleep. But there was a guard next to the food, one of the young male humans. He had a knife, and he was awake. Lying very still and quiet, but awake just the same. Railohn's mother hadn't even known he was there until he had snapped up and, without even a shout of warning, had slid his knife into the salkiy's abdomen.
He would have done more, because he had taken her by surprise, but Railohn was watching her and he hadn't been injured. He had panicked a little bit, and had lashed out with the first thing that come to mind, which was fire. And his aim was off, because he ended up setting the boat aflame instead of the human.
It didn't matter, because what he had done turned out to be just as effective. The human shouted and dropped his knife, moving instead toward the flames. He wouldn't let the boat burn.
Railohn's mother was hurt, but she knew how to take advantage of a situation. She stumbled off the boat, much less graceful than she had been only moments before, and had run toward Railohn with a lurching gait, favoring her injured side, her hand pressed against the open wound in her belly.
"Run, Railohn!" she had said. "Run as fast as you can into the forest. Don't worry about me."
He had run; he thought he cared about his mother, but he didn't think he cared about her enough to stay behind to protect her. He didn't want to die. He didn't know if that made him bad. Wasn't one supposed to be willing to give one's life for one's mother?
His other mother, the one he had thought was his real mother for his whole life up until two years ago, he thought he might be willing to give his life for. But that was wrong, wasn't it? Because she wasn't his real mother, and he was supposed to be willing to die for his real mother.
The mother he was rapidly leaving behind, his feet pounding against the forest floor, all of his senses engaged to prevent tripping over stones or tree roots.
He had run for awhile, and then she had spoken in his mind, telling him to stop, and he had done so and waited until she caught up to him.
"You have to continue," she told him. "Continue on to Okkand."
He was focused on her wound. "You're bleeding. You have to stop bleeding." She was his real mother and he couldn't give his life for her, but he didn't want her to die.
She smiled at him. "I will. I'll see a healer."
He shook his head. "There aren't any salkiys here."
"I'll find a healer in Okkand." She coughed a little and took a deep breath. "But I'm going to be a little slow, so I need you to go on without me."
"I don't know the way," he protested.
She placed her clean hand on his shoulder. "I know," she said. "Listen to me. Go north, toward the mountains. Do you remember the stories of Border Glory?"
He nodded; that was his mother's favorite story, and she had told him many times about the prophecy of the savior. It was important for him to learn that history, since he was the prophesied savior.
"Go north, across the great river. You'll find rafts to take you and no one will ask you questions. Find the valley. You remember the landmarks from the story?"
He nodded again, but he was frightened. He knew the stories as well as he knew himself, but he had never thought he would have to use them as a map. Suddenly the world seemed very large. He wasn't even sure which direction north was.
"Don't worry," said his mother, reading his thoughts. "You know how to find your way around. You'll remember, once the suns rise. It's only your fear that's making you forget. But I've taught you everything you need to know."
"Yes," he whispered.
"Go north," she repeated. "Find the valley, the ruins of Border Glory. There will be a dwelling in the valley near the ruins. A salkiy lives there by the name of Darmon. Find him, and he will tell you how to find Grandfather."
"Darmon," Railohn repeated.
"Yes. He's a good friend to Grandfather. Tell him that I'm your mother, and what you are. He'll know to take you to Grandfather, and Grandfather will know what to do. He'll keep you safe."
"Until you come to get me," Railohn said uncertainly.
She nodded. "Until I come for you. Go north." And she turned him gently so that he was facing away from her. "That way is north."
He took a deep breath and turned back to look at her. "I'll stay with you until you find a healer, and then I'll go."
"No," she said sharply. "You can't waste time. There's too much work to be done."
"What work?"
"Grandfather will explain," she said. "Now go. You have time before the suns rise. When the sky gets light, find a place to hide. Don't talk to anyone until you're in Okkand. Let as few humans as possible see you. Don't eat plants you don't recognize. Do you understand?"
"Yes," he said, his voice strangled with fear and uncertainty.
"Good," she said. "Go. Now."
He hesitated, but it was only for a moment. Then, for the second time that night, he turned his back on his mother and left her behind, slipping away into the night.
He looked back only once, but his mother was already out of sight.
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Even though this is Charcoal, I can't help but root for the guy.
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Thank you for reading!
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I did find the order of things confusing in this story, what with all the backstory kind of stuck in between bits of current story near the beginning.
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As for age, I intended for him to be about eleven or twelve. He's been sheltered most of his life, but his mother also taught him specific things he needed to do to survive if it came to that.
Thanks for reading!