peaches & cream 4. rose petals//wedding cake 13. speak now//red hot cinnamon 7. over an open flame
AUTHOR: Shrimp
CHALLENGE: peaches & cream. wedding cake. red hot cinnamon. cookie crumbs.
WORD COUNT: 1,555
RATING: PG-13 (cussin')
NOTES: So, back when I was on the site for the first time I posted a piece about a resurrection ritual. Little bits of the story have changed since then and (I'd like to think) I'm a better writer. So I redid the piece (red hot cinnamon 11. embers/coals) with some new things added and the POV more Bliss than Reynard. I hope this is actually how cookie crumbs works...
“What do you think you’re doing?” Reynard yelled almost as soon as he dismounted his horse. Bliss sat cross legged on the ground with one hand still on Addison’s body. He stood over her, shocked and offended at her touching of his dead friend. “I told you to watch the body not desecrate it!” Bliss looked down at Addison’s body for a moment, understanding yet not understanding what Reynard meant. While he had gone to town to arrange for someone to pick up Bertrand’s body she had stayed at the campsite they had set up around Addison’s body. She had stayed close enough to be certain that no animals had taken to eating the flesh but had wandered slightly to gather herbs and flowers. She had scattered petals around the body and proceeded to make a salve out of the leaves of the plants she had found. With it she had plugged the hole in Addison’s throat. Bliss didn’t doubt that this was what had upset Reynard.
“They’re healing herbs,” she explained. Reynard simply looked at her. His body was trembling still from shock and it hurt Bliss’s heart to see the man so distraught. She barely knew either of them but she shared a portion of the pain of the situation. She supposed that just underscored the fact that they truly were amazing people. “I…” she started uncertainly, “I think I can do something.”
“Do something? There’s nothing to do, Bliss! He’s dead! Addison… Addison is dead,” his voice cracked noticeably as he uttered his friend’s name. Bliss stood.
“Don’t say that. If no one hears it then it can be reversed.” She admitted that she felt a little silly. These were all things she had been taught as a young child and had learned didn’t exist in the world anymore. They were myths and legends about magic and gods. Magic far more severe than any simple illusion or entertainment she could conjure. She believed she could do something though. She believed she could bring Addison back.
“What?”
“I think I can undo this.” She gestured at the body. “I think I can resurrect him.” Reynard grabbed her roughly by the arm. She made a startled noise. He had surprised her in both his strength and his quickness.
“Do you hear yourself? You sound crazy,” he muttered through clenched teeth. Bliss straightened her shoulders and glared up at him.
“If you really don’t believe I can do it then what’s the harm of letting me try? Letting me know that I did everything I could?” They stared at each other for a long second. He released her and sighed.
“If it makes you feel better.” He shook his head and dropped his gaze to Addison’s slowly stiffening corpse.
“Are you sure?” He nodded.
“Do you need me to do anything?” Bliss placed a supportive hand on his arm and smiled forcefully.
“Make a fire.”
By the time everything was ready night had fallen. Reynard had done as he was told and a fire now marked the center of the site. While had been occupied with his task Bliss had gone washed and covered the body with a sheet and moved the petals to form a circle around Addison. Reynard watched everything she did with morbid curiosity. She could see by his face that he still didn’t believe her but that something in him blindly hoped that this would work. She vowed to herself that she wouldn’t disappoint him. She had heard about the ritual only once. It was the only thing she had ever learned by reading and she didn’t think that Warmund had ever meant her to see the book. She had found it long ago hidden in the mattress of the old man. At this point in her life she couldn’t remember why she had been snooping in his room to begin with. However, within that ancient text she had learned more about the gods and the magic that specifically pertained to them.
“Should you be standing so close to the fire?” Reynard asked skeptically. Bliss ignored him and took a deep breath. She dipped her hand into a pouch she had tied to her waist. It seemed a simple thing and really it was. Warmund had given it to her when she had been sold. She didn’t doubt that she had only been allowed to keep it because of its trivialness. A threadbare pouch filled with white sand. Certainly not anything of any value or worth. Bliss closed her eyes and took another calming breath. Gods, how she hoped everyone had been wrong.
She tossed the sand over the flames, opening her eyes and marveling silently at the sight. The air above the fire glittered and wavered and as the sand came in contact with the flame it jumped. It turned and jostled with itself. Bliss’s heart pounded as she watched the measly little campfire come alive before her very eyes. From the corner of her eye she saw Reynard moving, fidgeting as he watched. She couldn’t focus on that though. All of her energy had to be funneled into the ritual, into the fire. Every last bit of her concentration needed to be about that task at hand. She was playing with fire here, after all. She was manipulating life and death. She dug into a pouch at her waist again and pulled forth another handful of sand. Under the moonlight it was like holding a thousand glittering stars.
This time when she threw it into the fire a pale, unearthly green glow floated on the air. It trailed backwards along the path the sand had flown, slithering through the air and back onto Bliss’s hand. Wisps of smoke rose from the campfire. White and hazy they spread like fog between and around the warm, living bodies of Bliss and Reynard. She smiled unconsciously as she inhaled the smoke into her body. It felt like her blood was vibrating. Every thump of her pulse made her quiver with the simple feeling of it. Every part of her body was alive and thrumming. All of her was working together to push every ounce of magic out into the air. She felt limitless. She felt powerful.
“We gave it our best--” Reynard started as a slight clearness returned to the campsite. He must have presumed that everything was over, that the ritual had failed. Bliss wanted to shake her head at him but she was too absorbed with what she had to do. Tentatively she took a step closer to the burning embers of the fire’s bed. Reynard promptly stopped what he was saying as he glanced at her. She had Addison’s dagger I her hand. She had taken from his body when she cleaned it. The blade itself was mostly free of Bertrand’s blood, but this was the knife that had been used to slay him. She raked it across her palm and flung the droplets of blood onto where the fire was quietly dying. The fire lunged. Its burning tongues lapped up at her flesh and blood with a desire that had rarely been seen in a living creature before, let alone in a fire. She felt nothing though. There was no pain. There was nothing.
She pulled her hand away from the animate flames and watched as they immediately died out. There was silence as the entire world seemed to wait. When nothing happened lowered her head in defeat. Bliss’s heart ached. Her chest swelled with pain that even the throbbing of her burnt palm couldn’t drown out. She pulled her injured hand to her chest and bit her lip in anger. She was a failure. From closer than she had remembered him being she heard Reynard sigh. How was she supposed to look at him now? How was she supposed to look at herself?
“Bliss…” he trailed. She watched him kick at the smoldering embers as he tried to find words to cheer her. Bliss shook her head and opened her mouth to tell him how sorry she was. From the other side of the fire Addison sat bolt up right. “Impossible!” Reynard screamed with disbelief and fear on the edges of his voice. Bliss stared wide eyed at the sitting form. Her heart was beating fast again and the ache of her hand was once again a secondary sensation. Her lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile. She had down it. She had brought him back to life. “Impossible,” Reynard said again before taking a step towards the body that was flailing to be free of the sheet. “Addison?”
“What the fuck is going on here?! Who the fuck is Addison?! Will someone get me the fuck out of here?!” Reynard steadied his stance and put an arm out to block Bliss. His brows were drawn and his face hard. The voice wasn’t Addison’s but it wasn’t unfamiliar to Bliss either. She narrowed her eyes as if it would give her some insight to who-or what-was behind the sheet. “Where the fuck are those bastard knights? Did we get ‘em?”
“Oh no,” Bliss whispered as she took a sharp inhale.
“What? What’s going on?” Reynard whispered back. She looked up at him, her face fallen and distraught.
“It’s Bertrand. I brought Bertrand back.”
CHALLENGE: peaches & cream. wedding cake. red hot cinnamon. cookie crumbs.
WORD COUNT: 1,555
RATING: PG-13 (cussin')
NOTES: So, back when I was on the site for the first time I posted a piece about a resurrection ritual. Little bits of the story have changed since then and (I'd like to think) I'm a better writer. So I redid the piece (red hot cinnamon 11. embers/coals) with some new things added and the POV more Bliss than Reynard. I hope this is actually how cookie crumbs works...
“What do you think you’re doing?” Reynard yelled almost as soon as he dismounted his horse. Bliss sat cross legged on the ground with one hand still on Addison’s body. He stood over her, shocked and offended at her touching of his dead friend. “I told you to watch the body not desecrate it!” Bliss looked down at Addison’s body for a moment, understanding yet not understanding what Reynard meant. While he had gone to town to arrange for someone to pick up Bertrand’s body she had stayed at the campsite they had set up around Addison’s body. She had stayed close enough to be certain that no animals had taken to eating the flesh but had wandered slightly to gather herbs and flowers. She had scattered petals around the body and proceeded to make a salve out of the leaves of the plants she had found. With it she had plugged the hole in Addison’s throat. Bliss didn’t doubt that this was what had upset Reynard.
“They’re healing herbs,” she explained. Reynard simply looked at her. His body was trembling still from shock and it hurt Bliss’s heart to see the man so distraught. She barely knew either of them but she shared a portion of the pain of the situation. She supposed that just underscored the fact that they truly were amazing people. “I…” she started uncertainly, “I think I can do something.”
“Do something? There’s nothing to do, Bliss! He’s dead! Addison… Addison is dead,” his voice cracked noticeably as he uttered his friend’s name. Bliss stood.
“Don’t say that. If no one hears it then it can be reversed.” She admitted that she felt a little silly. These were all things she had been taught as a young child and had learned didn’t exist in the world anymore. They were myths and legends about magic and gods. Magic far more severe than any simple illusion or entertainment she could conjure. She believed she could do something though. She believed she could bring Addison back.
“What?”
“I think I can undo this.” She gestured at the body. “I think I can resurrect him.” Reynard grabbed her roughly by the arm. She made a startled noise. He had surprised her in both his strength and his quickness.
“Do you hear yourself? You sound crazy,” he muttered through clenched teeth. Bliss straightened her shoulders and glared up at him.
“If you really don’t believe I can do it then what’s the harm of letting me try? Letting me know that I did everything I could?” They stared at each other for a long second. He released her and sighed.
“If it makes you feel better.” He shook his head and dropped his gaze to Addison’s slowly stiffening corpse.
“Are you sure?” He nodded.
“Do you need me to do anything?” Bliss placed a supportive hand on his arm and smiled forcefully.
“Make a fire.”
By the time everything was ready night had fallen. Reynard had done as he was told and a fire now marked the center of the site. While had been occupied with his task Bliss had gone washed and covered the body with a sheet and moved the petals to form a circle around Addison. Reynard watched everything she did with morbid curiosity. She could see by his face that he still didn’t believe her but that something in him blindly hoped that this would work. She vowed to herself that she wouldn’t disappoint him. She had heard about the ritual only once. It was the only thing she had ever learned by reading and she didn’t think that Warmund had ever meant her to see the book. She had found it long ago hidden in the mattress of the old man. At this point in her life she couldn’t remember why she had been snooping in his room to begin with. However, within that ancient text she had learned more about the gods and the magic that specifically pertained to them.
“Should you be standing so close to the fire?” Reynard asked skeptically. Bliss ignored him and took a deep breath. She dipped her hand into a pouch she had tied to her waist. It seemed a simple thing and really it was. Warmund had given it to her when she had been sold. She didn’t doubt that she had only been allowed to keep it because of its trivialness. A threadbare pouch filled with white sand. Certainly not anything of any value or worth. Bliss closed her eyes and took another calming breath. Gods, how she hoped everyone had been wrong.
She tossed the sand over the flames, opening her eyes and marveling silently at the sight. The air above the fire glittered and wavered and as the sand came in contact with the flame it jumped. It turned and jostled with itself. Bliss’s heart pounded as she watched the measly little campfire come alive before her very eyes. From the corner of her eye she saw Reynard moving, fidgeting as he watched. She couldn’t focus on that though. All of her energy had to be funneled into the ritual, into the fire. Every last bit of her concentration needed to be about that task at hand. She was playing with fire here, after all. She was manipulating life and death. She dug into a pouch at her waist again and pulled forth another handful of sand. Under the moonlight it was like holding a thousand glittering stars.
This time when she threw it into the fire a pale, unearthly green glow floated on the air. It trailed backwards along the path the sand had flown, slithering through the air and back onto Bliss’s hand. Wisps of smoke rose from the campfire. White and hazy they spread like fog between and around the warm, living bodies of Bliss and Reynard. She smiled unconsciously as she inhaled the smoke into her body. It felt like her blood was vibrating. Every thump of her pulse made her quiver with the simple feeling of it. Every part of her body was alive and thrumming. All of her was working together to push every ounce of magic out into the air. She felt limitless. She felt powerful.
“We gave it our best--” Reynard started as a slight clearness returned to the campsite. He must have presumed that everything was over, that the ritual had failed. Bliss wanted to shake her head at him but she was too absorbed with what she had to do. Tentatively she took a step closer to the burning embers of the fire’s bed. Reynard promptly stopped what he was saying as he glanced at her. She had Addison’s dagger I her hand. She had taken from his body when she cleaned it. The blade itself was mostly free of Bertrand’s blood, but this was the knife that had been used to slay him. She raked it across her palm and flung the droplets of blood onto where the fire was quietly dying. The fire lunged. Its burning tongues lapped up at her flesh and blood with a desire that had rarely been seen in a living creature before, let alone in a fire. She felt nothing though. There was no pain. There was nothing.
She pulled her hand away from the animate flames and watched as they immediately died out. There was silence as the entire world seemed to wait. When nothing happened lowered her head in defeat. Bliss’s heart ached. Her chest swelled with pain that even the throbbing of her burnt palm couldn’t drown out. She pulled her injured hand to her chest and bit her lip in anger. She was a failure. From closer than she had remembered him being she heard Reynard sigh. How was she supposed to look at him now? How was she supposed to look at herself?
“Bliss…” he trailed. She watched him kick at the smoldering embers as he tried to find words to cheer her. Bliss shook her head and opened her mouth to tell him how sorry she was. From the other side of the fire Addison sat bolt up right. “Impossible!” Reynard screamed with disbelief and fear on the edges of his voice. Bliss stared wide eyed at the sitting form. Her heart was beating fast again and the ache of her hand was once again a secondary sensation. Her lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile. She had down it. She had brought him back to life. “Impossible,” Reynard said again before taking a step towards the body that was flailing to be free of the sheet. “Addison?”
“What the fuck is going on here?! Who the fuck is Addison?! Will someone get me the fuck out of here?!” Reynard steadied his stance and put an arm out to block Bliss. His brows were drawn and his face hard. The voice wasn’t Addison’s but it wasn’t unfamiliar to Bliss either. She narrowed her eyes as if it would give her some insight to who-or what-was behind the sheet. “Where the fuck are those bastard knights? Did we get ‘em?”
“Oh no,” Bliss whispered as she took a sharp inhale.
“What? What’s going on?” Reynard whispered back. She looked up at him, her face fallen and distraught.
“It’s Bertrand. I brought Bertrand back.”