Post by Muse on May 31, 2013 22:41:50 GMT 10
Title: Crystal Sword Paradox IV
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 282
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 3A
Summary: She doesn't stop him in time.
Warning: Character death
AN: Another Paradox prompt, #4; "Alanna neither finds nor does not find the crystal sword."
Faithful’s yowl at the doorflap sends Alanna tumbling off her mat and the chill of the night air slaps her face as she stumbles to one side. She regains her balance, rubbing at her eyes as she searches for her cat, thinking to thank Faithful for waking her from the nightmares again.
Look out! Faithful yowls, Stop him--!
Akhan ibn Nazzir shrieks something in a voice that shreds her eardrums, and the sand before Alanna begins to brighten with a rippling light in twisting curls.
--it looks like Roger’s wizard’s rod, it looks like—
ibn Nazzir uses the crystal sword to connect two of the scrolling edges of the designs, and the Gate of Idramm hums in the night.
Her fingers brush the ember at her throat, and the whole construct glowed orange, greedy glowing tendrils of light that pulled at Alanna, slowly, then faster and harder.
***
“There.” Ali Mukhtab pauses, and Jon follows the line of his finger to the small gleam of light just within eyesight.
“But, Bloody Hawk—she said—“
“It’s gone.” Ali’s voice droned, no inflection to color his words. The sand shifts and burned into a solid sheet of rock—sand turned solid in a single instant—a writhing design of sinuous curves and coils has melted around the blade of a single sword, forced point down into the rock.
Jon takes a step, and Ali catches his wrist.
“Don’t. It is evil. Let the desert take it.”
Jon turns away, not quickly enough to miss the flicker of orange at the edge of his gaze.
It reminds him of –his—magic, and –her— hair.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 282
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 3A
Summary: She doesn't stop him in time.
Warning: Character death
AN: Another Paradox prompt, #4; "Alanna neither finds nor does not find the crystal sword."
Faithful’s yowl at the doorflap sends Alanna tumbling off her mat and the chill of the night air slaps her face as she stumbles to one side. She regains her balance, rubbing at her eyes as she searches for her cat, thinking to thank Faithful for waking her from the nightmares again.
Look out! Faithful yowls, Stop him--!
Akhan ibn Nazzir shrieks something in a voice that shreds her eardrums, and the sand before Alanna begins to brighten with a rippling light in twisting curls.
--it looks like Roger’s wizard’s rod, it looks like—
ibn Nazzir uses the crystal sword to connect two of the scrolling edges of the designs, and the Gate of Idramm hums in the night.
Her fingers brush the ember at her throat, and the whole construct glowed orange, greedy glowing tendrils of light that pulled at Alanna, slowly, then faster and harder.
***
“There.” Ali Mukhtab pauses, and Jon follows the line of his finger to the small gleam of light just within eyesight.
“But, Bloody Hawk—she said—“
“It’s gone.” Ali’s voice droned, no inflection to color his words. The sand shifts and burned into a solid sheet of rock—sand turned solid in a single instant—a writhing design of sinuous curves and coils has melted around the blade of a single sword, forced point down into the rock.
Jon takes a step, and Ali catches his wrist.
“Don’t. It is evil. Let the desert take it.”
Jon turns away, not quickly enough to miss the flicker of orange at the edge of his gaze.
It reminds him of –his—magic, and –her— hair.