summer piece #8
Vanilla Malt Custard #24. she's gonna make him more miserable than you ever did
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : PG
Timeframe : Book 1,
Word Count : ~500
I feel like it's both a cheap piece and a potential spoiler, but I kept coming back to the underlying idea and had to finally spit it out.
Roul stopped short as a few paces farther down the hall a door banged open and Kairn came bounding through, hopping and yelping as though his feet were on fire.
Clad only in his undershorts and sporting a ghastly cloud of angry red welts on his back and more on his legs, the boy tore on down the hall without so much as a glance behind him.
The animated shell of a creature whose only identifiable feature on its awkwardly cobbled body was the tail of what must have been a very large scorpion scuttled after him.
A head popped out of an open door, face framed by short-cropped ruddy hair, and then an arm, a tub of salve clutched in its hand. Reida made a tsking sound at Kairn’s approach. “And here I thought I’d catch you naked this time,” she said, scowling.
Kairn swiped at the salve as his passed and, grinning, she snatched it back out of his reach. With a nervous look back at the construct, now close enough that it was swinging at his heels with its wicked tail, Kairn shot her a rude gesture and pressed on.
The girl in the doorway laughed and the sound echoed in Roul’s own head.
“You know,” he said, his voice kept low enough to restrict the conversation to his private audience, “I always thought this sort of pigtail pulling nonsense was the domain of five-year-olds.”
Perhaps some of us are just even younger at heart than others.
“So what happens?” he asked. The girl was still lingering in the doorway, idly humming to herself as she popped the cap off the tub and poked a finger into its contents.
What happens to what?
There was an edge to her voice, but Roul was never one to let that stop him. “Does she wise up or does he wear down?”
Where do you get that idea?
“Twelve hundred years is a long time. There’s clearly something you’re not telling-”
Nothing happens.
“But-”
As it was…
“Yeah, yeah.” Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he continued down the hall.
Reida leaned against the doorframe, the jar clutched against her chest, casting glances down the hall while trying look unconcerned. Roul almost felt sorry for her. But only almost, he assured himself.
“What do you want, old man?” she snapped as he strode past.
“Me? Nothing. What you want is with Sethan by now. I wouldn’t bother waiting here for him.”
“You use your lousy visions to tell you that?”
“Paying attention to a few cues now and then wouldn’t hurt if you ever expect to get anywhere.”
“Hmph.” Reida wrinkled her nose as she jammed the lid back on the tub. “I got to see him squirm. That’s what it’s all about.” She didn’t give him time to respond, instead retreating into her room with a last look down the hall and a shrug, the door sliding shut behind her.
“I don’t know,” said Roul, ostensibly continuing the conversation with himself. “Is that what it’s all about?”
What? Watching you squirm? There was a long, thoughtful pause. Perhaps.
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : PG
Timeframe : Book 1,
Word Count : ~500
I feel like it's both a cheap piece and a potential spoiler, but I kept coming back to the underlying idea and had to finally spit it out.
Roul stopped short as a few paces farther down the hall a door banged open and Kairn came bounding through, hopping and yelping as though his feet were on fire.
Clad only in his undershorts and sporting a ghastly cloud of angry red welts on his back and more on his legs, the boy tore on down the hall without so much as a glance behind him.
The animated shell of a creature whose only identifiable feature on its awkwardly cobbled body was the tail of what must have been a very large scorpion scuttled after him.
A head popped out of an open door, face framed by short-cropped ruddy hair, and then an arm, a tub of salve clutched in its hand. Reida made a tsking sound at Kairn’s approach. “And here I thought I’d catch you naked this time,” she said, scowling.
Kairn swiped at the salve as his passed and, grinning, she snatched it back out of his reach. With a nervous look back at the construct, now close enough that it was swinging at his heels with its wicked tail, Kairn shot her a rude gesture and pressed on.
The girl in the doorway laughed and the sound echoed in Roul’s own head.
“You know,” he said, his voice kept low enough to restrict the conversation to his private audience, “I always thought this sort of pigtail pulling nonsense was the domain of five-year-olds.”
Perhaps some of us are just even younger at heart than others.
“So what happens?” he asked. The girl was still lingering in the doorway, idly humming to herself as she popped the cap off the tub and poked a finger into its contents.
What happens to what?
There was an edge to her voice, but Roul was never one to let that stop him. “Does she wise up or does he wear down?”
Where do you get that idea?
“Twelve hundred years is a long time. There’s clearly something you’re not telling-”
Nothing happens.
“But-”
As it was…
“Yeah, yeah.” Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he continued down the hall.
Reida leaned against the doorframe, the jar clutched against her chest, casting glances down the hall while trying look unconcerned. Roul almost felt sorry for her. But only almost, he assured himself.
“What do you want, old man?” she snapped as he strode past.
“Me? Nothing. What you want is with Sethan by now. I wouldn’t bother waiting here for him.”
“You use your lousy visions to tell you that?”
“Paying attention to a few cues now and then wouldn’t hurt if you ever expect to get anywhere.”
“Hmph.” Reida wrinkled her nose as she jammed the lid back on the tub. “I got to see him squirm. That’s what it’s all about.” She didn’t give him time to respond, instead retreating into her room with a last look down the hall and a shrug, the door sliding shut behind her.
“I don’t know,” said Roul, ostensibly continuing the conversation with himself. “Is that what it’s all about?”
What? Watching you squirm? There was a long, thoughtful pause. Perhaps.