Post by Seek on Apr 10, 2015 2:04:50 GMT 10
Series: Where the Wind Blows
Title: Scars
Rating: PG
Event: 4x100 "Types of Love" Relay
Competition: Decathlon
Words: 400 words
Summary: Old scars never heal over completely.
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i. hath no other
This is before they both undertake the first rite of the god; before Erik almost bites through his lip to keep from screaming or twitching, before Inar endures, staring dispassionately at the ravaged bark of the god’s oak.
These are the kinder days; they master the prayers and chants, draw runes in fire-ash and whistle up small magics. To be Gifted in Scanra is to be called by the gods to the path of the shaman-mage, and they believe they’re going to walk it together.
This is before Inar attempts the Great Rite and Erik flees; his back ravaged, bleeding.
-
ii. old scars
Valeria sees the scars on his back after they make love for the first time, as they lie, sated, on the thin cotton sheets. “What are they?” she asks; he feels her tracing the sharp, angular cuts of the runes.
“Don’t do that,” Erik says, more sharply than he intends. For a moment, he’s a boy again in Scanra, feeling the oldest shaman cut the runes into his back, blood in his mouth. “They’re nothing. Just scars.”
“We all have scars,” Valeria murmurs. He’s never seen them, though he’s known her now, intimately. “Here,” she says. She takes his hand.
-
iii. letting go
Arram Draper is shy, awkward, and brilliant. Ozorne is the Emperor’s nephew: powerful, ambitious, and clever. All of these make for a bad combination, and Lindhall recognises that.
He tries, at first, to separate them, in his gentle way. He assigns Arram more work, occupies the boy with advanced research projects. But Ozorne is determined—he enters the library and hauls Arram out and—well. Erik had been blind, once.
He knows what it’s like.
“You can’t coddle them,” Valeria says. He doesn’t know how long she’s been watching. “You have to let him go, Erik.” And so he does.
-
iv. shattering chains
There’s only so long he can watch Ozorne’s slow spiral into madness before he feels that if he doesn’t do anything at all, he’ll snap. It’s surprisingly easy to rebel. The breaking point happens when a slave spills wine at a state banquet. Ozorne doesn’t even need to snap his fingers—a guard drags the boy away by the scruff of his neck.
Something in Lindhall twists; he rises from his seat to follow.
A whistled magic half-forgotten; the guard falls and Lindhall says, “Trust me.”
The look in the boy’s eyes cuts at his heart like the shaman’s knife.
Title: Scars
Rating: PG
Event: 4x100 "Types of Love" Relay
Competition: Decathlon
Words: 400 words
Summary: Old scars never heal over completely.
-
i. hath no other
This is before they both undertake the first rite of the god; before Erik almost bites through his lip to keep from screaming or twitching, before Inar endures, staring dispassionately at the ravaged bark of the god’s oak.
These are the kinder days; they master the prayers and chants, draw runes in fire-ash and whistle up small magics. To be Gifted in Scanra is to be called by the gods to the path of the shaman-mage, and they believe they’re going to walk it together.
This is before Inar attempts the Great Rite and Erik flees; his back ravaged, bleeding.
-
ii. old scars
Valeria sees the scars on his back after they make love for the first time, as they lie, sated, on the thin cotton sheets. “What are they?” she asks; he feels her tracing the sharp, angular cuts of the runes.
“Don’t do that,” Erik says, more sharply than he intends. For a moment, he’s a boy again in Scanra, feeling the oldest shaman cut the runes into his back, blood in his mouth. “They’re nothing. Just scars.”
“We all have scars,” Valeria murmurs. He’s never seen them, though he’s known her now, intimately. “Here,” she says. She takes his hand.
-
iii. letting go
Arram Draper is shy, awkward, and brilliant. Ozorne is the Emperor’s nephew: powerful, ambitious, and clever. All of these make for a bad combination, and Lindhall recognises that.
He tries, at first, to separate them, in his gentle way. He assigns Arram more work, occupies the boy with advanced research projects. But Ozorne is determined—he enters the library and hauls Arram out and—well. Erik had been blind, once.
He knows what it’s like.
“You can’t coddle them,” Valeria says. He doesn’t know how long she’s been watching. “You have to let him go, Erik.” And so he does.
-
iv. shattering chains
There’s only so long he can watch Ozorne’s slow spiral into madness before he feels that if he doesn’t do anything at all, he’ll snap. It’s surprisingly easy to rebel. The breaking point happens when a slave spills wine at a state banquet. Ozorne doesn’t even need to snap his fingers—a guard drags the boy away by the scruff of his neck.
Something in Lindhall twists; he rises from his seat to follow.
A whistled magic half-forgotten; the guard falls and Lindhall says, “Trust me.”
The look in the boy’s eyes cuts at his heart like the shaman’s knife.