(no subject)
Title: Golden Rider
Story: The Dragonfire Chronicles
Characters: Istvan, Orla
Flavours: Chocolate Gelato #20 [Bona fide]
Toppings: Butterscotch [How things used to be]; Gummy Bunnies - 500themes #12 [Central power]
Extras: N/A
Word count: 906
Rating: G
Summary: In which a magic user uses magic.
Notes: I'm playing my favourite game again: catch-up!
Istvan missed the crisp, clean smell of snow in the mountains. He missed the dazzling white that made him shield his eyes when the sun came up and the ever-present chill that kept him alert, made him feel alive.
Here, the air seemed almost sluggish; too hot by far, turning his mind to mush. He'd left his furs in his rented room when he'd set out to explore, but even the clothes he would wear inside his house - deerskin leggings and a rough wool tunic - were too stifling for this place.
Still, Istvan wandered on. He would have to buy new clothes, but he would have no chance of doing that before he got a job. He'd spent almost all of his coin renting that room - though if it ran out and he had no job, he'd simply move on.
He was certain Miraes was the place, though. Despite the heat, the unfamiliar noise, the feeling of magic here was stronger than it had ever been up in the mountains. The dragon towers, far away as they were, could still be seen in the distance. Power resonated from them and Istvan spent a moment, a long moment, simply staring-
Magic crackled behind him and Istvan turned instinctively, watching as a woman ran past, dodging magical blasts from the two men who chased her. She was quick and sure-footed, but Istvan was sure she was going to be caught. No one seemed all that concerned, so Istvan frowned - he'd heard city-folk were hard-hearted, but not like this- and set off after the three of them.
They'd cornered her when he found them, holding twin balls of fire over their palms. The woman was smirking, her eyes golden and narrowed in concentration. They widened when she saw Istvan, who wasted no time- He murmured a few words, words that were harsh on his tongue - and allowed himself a flash of satisfaction when the fire extinguished and the men fell to the ground.
The woman looked between him and the fallen men, her mouth agape. Istvan waited for her to say something, shifting from foot to foot.
"What did you just do?"
"I just saved you," Istvan said. He thought it was obvious.
She shook her head. "First of all, saved me? We're riders, you moron. This is training!" She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose as Istvan felt his heart sink into his boots. He'd done the wrong thing, again. "No, I mean, what was that thing you just did? You said something-"
"Um." Istvan shifted from foot to foot again. Her eyes were focussed on him - and it had been riders he'd been wanting to meet, after all- "I realised, when my magic surfaced, that it was difficult to concentrate unless I had a concept - either a word or an image, though preferably both - to focus on, so I began to assign words to what I wanted to happen."
"I didn't understand what you just said."
"I mean, when I wanted to summon fire, for instance-"
"No, not that!" The woman stomped over to him, around the bodies of her fallen comrades. She was a lot shorter than Istvan, but it didn't make her any less intimidating. "I mean, I didn't understand the words you said, before you did the magic."
"Oh, that!" Istvan smiled sheepishly. "I figured that there had to be a way to make the whole thing more natural - so I observed the animals that lived up in the mountains, amongst others - and I devoured any information about dragons I could find and put it all together to sort of- I don't know, I guess I created my own language? In a way? It's not really a language, though; I mean, you can't use it to communicate with other people, it's just - it gives you a better handle on your magic."
"How old are you?"
Istvan blinked, taken aback by the sudden change in topic. "Twenty-six this summer."
"You're a bit young to have done all that research, aren't you?"
"There's not a lot to do in the mountains. A lot of free time to think, even if you are doing a job."
She nodded. "I think I'll need to take you to see my superiors…"
"Istvan."
"Istvan. My name is Orla."
"It's nice to meet you, Orla."
Her smile was surprised and genuine. "You're going to have to wake my boys up though, Istvan," she said after a moment. "And tell them they've failed."
Istvan frowned, but said the words that would wake them. As they shook their heads and got to their feet, he looked at Orla again. "How do I know that you're a rider?"
She turned the lapel of her jacket, showing him a small, gold pin. It was in the shape of a dragon - but of course - with tiny rubies for eyes.
Istvan looked up at her, a question in his eyes, and she smiled. "My dragon's name is Insula. He's red."
Istvan nodded again even as Orla's smile widened into a slightly evil grin. She turned and looked at the two men - her two students, Istvan supposed - and clapped her hands. "Come on boys, quick time back to the towers. You can have another go tomorrow."
They cast surly looks Istvan's way and he kept away from them the entire trip.
Story: The Dragonfire Chronicles
Characters: Istvan, Orla
Flavours: Chocolate Gelato #20 [Bona fide]
Toppings: Butterscotch [How things used to be]; Gummy Bunnies - 500themes #12 [Central power]
Extras: N/A
Word count: 906
Rating: G
Summary: In which a magic user uses magic.
Notes: I'm playing my favourite game again: catch-up!
Istvan missed the crisp, clean smell of snow in the mountains. He missed the dazzling white that made him shield his eyes when the sun came up and the ever-present chill that kept him alert, made him feel alive.
Here, the air seemed almost sluggish; too hot by far, turning his mind to mush. He'd left his furs in his rented room when he'd set out to explore, but even the clothes he would wear inside his house - deerskin leggings and a rough wool tunic - were too stifling for this place.
Still, Istvan wandered on. He would have to buy new clothes, but he would have no chance of doing that before he got a job. He'd spent almost all of his coin renting that room - though if it ran out and he had no job, he'd simply move on.
He was certain Miraes was the place, though. Despite the heat, the unfamiliar noise, the feeling of magic here was stronger than it had ever been up in the mountains. The dragon towers, far away as they were, could still be seen in the distance. Power resonated from them and Istvan spent a moment, a long moment, simply staring-
Magic crackled behind him and Istvan turned instinctively, watching as a woman ran past, dodging magical blasts from the two men who chased her. She was quick and sure-footed, but Istvan was sure she was going to be caught. No one seemed all that concerned, so Istvan frowned - he'd heard city-folk were hard-hearted, but not like this- and set off after the three of them.
They'd cornered her when he found them, holding twin balls of fire over their palms. The woman was smirking, her eyes golden and narrowed in concentration. They widened when she saw Istvan, who wasted no time- He murmured a few words, words that were harsh on his tongue - and allowed himself a flash of satisfaction when the fire extinguished and the men fell to the ground.
The woman looked between him and the fallen men, her mouth agape. Istvan waited for her to say something, shifting from foot to foot.
"What did you just do?"
"I just saved you," Istvan said. He thought it was obvious.
She shook her head. "First of all, saved me? We're riders, you moron. This is training!" She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose as Istvan felt his heart sink into his boots. He'd done the wrong thing, again. "No, I mean, what was that thing you just did? You said something-"
"Um." Istvan shifted from foot to foot again. Her eyes were focussed on him - and it had been riders he'd been wanting to meet, after all- "I realised, when my magic surfaced, that it was difficult to concentrate unless I had a concept - either a word or an image, though preferably both - to focus on, so I began to assign words to what I wanted to happen."
"I didn't understand what you just said."
"I mean, when I wanted to summon fire, for instance-"
"No, not that!" The woman stomped over to him, around the bodies of her fallen comrades. She was a lot shorter than Istvan, but it didn't make her any less intimidating. "I mean, I didn't understand the words you said, before you did the magic."
"Oh, that!" Istvan smiled sheepishly. "I figured that there had to be a way to make the whole thing more natural - so I observed the animals that lived up in the mountains, amongst others - and I devoured any information about dragons I could find and put it all together to sort of- I don't know, I guess I created my own language? In a way? It's not really a language, though; I mean, you can't use it to communicate with other people, it's just - it gives you a better handle on your magic."
"How old are you?"
Istvan blinked, taken aback by the sudden change in topic. "Twenty-six this summer."
"You're a bit young to have done all that research, aren't you?"
"There's not a lot to do in the mountains. A lot of free time to think, even if you are doing a job."
She nodded. "I think I'll need to take you to see my superiors…"
"Istvan."
"Istvan. My name is Orla."
"It's nice to meet you, Orla."
Her smile was surprised and genuine. "You're going to have to wake my boys up though, Istvan," she said after a moment. "And tell them they've failed."
Istvan frowned, but said the words that would wake them. As they shook their heads and got to their feet, he looked at Orla again. "How do I know that you're a rider?"
She turned the lapel of her jacket, showing him a small, gold pin. It was in the shape of a dragon - but of course - with tiny rubies for eyes.
Istvan looked up at her, a question in his eyes, and she smiled. "My dragon's name is Insula. He's red."
Istvan nodded again even as Orla's smile widened into a slightly evil grin. She turned and looked at the two men - her two students, Istvan supposed - and clapped her hands. "Come on boys, quick time back to the towers. You can have another go tomorrow."
They cast surly looks Istvan's way and he kept away from them the entire trip.