Post by Muse on Jun 1, 2013 21:49:18 GMT 10
Title: Dead Zone
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 574
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 3A
Summary: The Skinners, as they call them, are terrifying beings and Alanna can’t find their friends when she scries.
Alanna checked her mirror again, sending a violet wash of her Gift over the scrying tool before she said anything to Jon.
Nothing.
“Jon.”
The king looked up from the map of Tortall that covered the table. Tokens marked different locations, colors indicating what kind of Immortal had been seen where. Since Daine had left with Numair a day earlier, no new tokens had been added to the board.
Alanna hoped that it was because everything had remained quiet, and not because they were sitting pretty, blind and in the dark.
“I can’t find them.”
Numair and Daine had been their only choice to send when reports of strange creatures stripping the land of every living thing had reached Corus. The dry smog that the wyverns had brought had left everyone with hacking coughs, and loathe though Jon had been, the two mages have been the only possible people that could do anything.
Jon straightened abruptly, striding over to peer over Alanna’s shoulder. “What do you mean?”
Alanna tried to keep her hands from shaking. “I’m looking and looking, but Jon—“ she glanced up, face pale, “—I can’t see them anywhere.” She offered him the mirror. “This is all the spell shows me.”
The mirror showed a view of a lush, green landscape, cut divisively in half by a swathe of brown, dried, dead growth. No matter how Alanna or Jon move the spell, there is no sign of Numair or Daine.
“There—“ Alanna points, and the focus sharpens and moves closer.
The ground is torn up, ripped up in chunks that look almost as though—Jon swallows, hard—hands clawed at it from underneath.
Jon swears, hands shaking as grips the frame of the mirror, knuckles white.
“Great Goddess, what happened there?” Alanna mutters under her breath, one hand moving to the ember stone around her neck unconsciously. “Please tell me—“
To one side, a grey pony ambles into, and then out of, the limits of the spell.
“That’s Daine’s Cloud.” Alanna sucks in a breath. “Jon, what the hell—“
He shakes his head. “I’ve never in my life seen anything like this.” He leans back against the table, head hanging. “The Jewel is no help—that dead zone goes for miles, and the earth screamed as the zone grew.”
Alanna took the mirror from his hands gently.
“I shouldn’t have sent them alone.”
“Don’t.” she says, and it’s sharper than she intended. She softens it by clasping his shoulder and trying a smile.
It fails, miserably, but Jon’s lips twitch as he tries to reply in kind.
“They went willingly. And, besides,” Alanna grasped at straws, but what else did they have, when two of their friends were potentially—
“—you weren’t in Carthak, you didn’t see what Daine did. If anyone can survive that, it’s her and Numair.”
For a long moment, Jon rubbed at his face with both hands, obscuring his eyes. Alanna waited silently, giving him the space he needed.
“Someone will need to go retrieve their mounts.”
Glancing at the map and her mirror, Alanna pursed her lips. “I can do that, and make sure the area’s clear.”
Jon looked her in the eye. “Come back quickly.” (Stay safe. Be careful)
“I’ll take the Own with me.” (Don’t worry. I will.)
Jon nodded once. (Thank you.)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 574
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 3A
Summary: The Skinners, as they call them, are terrifying beings and Alanna can’t find their friends when she scries.
Alanna checked her mirror again, sending a violet wash of her Gift over the scrying tool before she said anything to Jon.
Nothing.
“Jon.”
The king looked up from the map of Tortall that covered the table. Tokens marked different locations, colors indicating what kind of Immortal had been seen where. Since Daine had left with Numair a day earlier, no new tokens had been added to the board.
Alanna hoped that it was because everything had remained quiet, and not because they were sitting pretty, blind and in the dark.
“I can’t find them.”
Numair and Daine had been their only choice to send when reports of strange creatures stripping the land of every living thing had reached Corus. The dry smog that the wyverns had brought had left everyone with hacking coughs, and loathe though Jon had been, the two mages have been the only possible people that could do anything.
Jon straightened abruptly, striding over to peer over Alanna’s shoulder. “What do you mean?”
Alanna tried to keep her hands from shaking. “I’m looking and looking, but Jon—“ she glanced up, face pale, “—I can’t see them anywhere.” She offered him the mirror. “This is all the spell shows me.”
The mirror showed a view of a lush, green landscape, cut divisively in half by a swathe of brown, dried, dead growth. No matter how Alanna or Jon move the spell, there is no sign of Numair or Daine.
“There—“ Alanna points, and the focus sharpens and moves closer.
The ground is torn up, ripped up in chunks that look almost as though—Jon swallows, hard—hands clawed at it from underneath.
Jon swears, hands shaking as grips the frame of the mirror, knuckles white.
“Great Goddess, what happened there?” Alanna mutters under her breath, one hand moving to the ember stone around her neck unconsciously. “Please tell me—“
To one side, a grey pony ambles into, and then out of, the limits of the spell.
“That’s Daine’s Cloud.” Alanna sucks in a breath. “Jon, what the hell—“
He shakes his head. “I’ve never in my life seen anything like this.” He leans back against the table, head hanging. “The Jewel is no help—that dead zone goes for miles, and the earth screamed as the zone grew.”
Alanna took the mirror from his hands gently.
“I shouldn’t have sent them alone.”
“Don’t.” she says, and it’s sharper than she intended. She softens it by clasping his shoulder and trying a smile.
It fails, miserably, but Jon’s lips twitch as he tries to reply in kind.
“They went willingly. And, besides,” Alanna grasped at straws, but what else did they have, when two of their friends were potentially—
“—you weren’t in Carthak, you didn’t see what Daine did. If anyone can survive that, it’s her and Numair.”
For a long moment, Jon rubbed at his face with both hands, obscuring his eyes. Alanna waited silently, giving him the space he needed.
“Someone will need to go retrieve their mounts.”
Glancing at the map and her mirror, Alanna pursed her lips. “I can do that, and make sure the area’s clear.”
Jon looked her in the eye. “Come back quickly.” (Stay safe. Be careful)
“I’ll take the Own with me.” (Don’t worry. I will.)
Jon nodded once. (Thank you.)