Summer #9 & Weekly Prompt
Thyme #18. Face Value and
Vanilla Malt Custard #23. sometimes your friends will tell you something you don’t wanna hear
Story : knights & necromancers rewrite // ( old stuff here)
Rating : G
Timeframe : Book One
Word Count : ~650
Finally getting back to the plan of starting from the beginning. This follows the first installment. I'm not really happy with it, but I think I've put my finger on why and it's something that I should be able to sort out later and I'd rather move on than spend more time on it now.
Also test driving a name change. Thinking I'll keep it.
“Is something amiss?” Ski slowed her horse to match her companion’s pace at the rear of the group as their exploration of Filborough wound its way towards the market district where their new captain awaited them.
The youngest and smallest member of the party blinked at her, obviously not expecting to have drawn such attention. Perhaps she thought she’d kept her feelings hidden, but the melodramatic sighs that had punctuated the last several blocks of their journey were hard to miss.
“It’s just, well, this is hardly what I had anticipated,” said Illia, meekly. She gave a nod to the rows of buildings that hemmed the street, all crafted of the same dull gray stones and small, drab windows and pressed so close to one another not even sunlight passed between them. Decked in the full formal regalia that marked her as an Air Knight, the stark white of her cloak and armor, all the more striking when paired with her platinum curls and ivory skin, she did, indeed, look out of place on the dusty streets of Filborough. But then Illia never quite looked like she belonged anywhere that didn’t require a ball gown.
It was, unfortunately, precisely what Ski had expected of their first assignment as fully-fledged knights. One of many minor hubs along the eastern trade route to the north. Remote enough to avoid any real action, more than large enough to handle any trouble that did come its way without the interference of king or council. Ski suspected the aim in sending a squadron of unproven initiates to such a city was to convince the local government that their presence would have minimal impact on their affairs. She’d tried to tell her as much before they left the capitol, but the girl’s imagination proved resilient as always.
“Now, Illia,” Ski started, ready to patiently explain their orders again when Farran cut in.
“And what were you expecting?” she called over her green-cloaked shoulder as she slowed her own mount to join them, leaving Tess alone in the lead. “A mountain fort to hold against the onslaught of Imperial hordes?”
“Well nothing quite that romantic!” Illia protested. “Besides, we are on good terms with the Empire. I don’t think there would be hordes to fight even in the mountains. And we should, perhaps be better guests and make an effort to rejoin our hosts,” she added, urging her horse past Farran’s, her head bowed in an effort to conceal the blush that had spread across her cheeks.
“Even if there were,” said Farran, quickly regaining a place at her side. “It’s not as if they’re about to send a pair of princesses off to face them.”
The comment would seem to be meant for Illia, but the look was aimed at Ski, and it said Farran had no more desire than Illia to be attached to purely diplomatic assignment. Ski opened her mouth to try to smooth things over, but Illia spoke first.
“We’re not princesses,” she said, quickly adding a meek “yet” as this earned her disapproving looks from all three of her companions. Her cheeks now scarlet, she floundered on. “Well, what explains the two of you then? Neither of you is so important they can’t give you real work, are you? Not that I’m not happy to have you here, but-”
“We’re here to keep you out of trouble,” said Farran.
“What trouble?”
Of course, such a question begged an answer and it was just that moment that Tess came to a sharp stop, throwing a hand out to catch Illia’s bridle and force her to a halt as well. Ski peered past the two of them at the blur of white and orange fur that tumbled out of the alley into the street in front of them.
“Cats, apparently,” said Tess as the animal righted itself and turned, its long, spotted tail swishing, to stare directly at Ski.
Vanilla Malt Custard #23. sometimes your friends will tell you something you don’t wanna hear
Story : knights & necromancers rewrite // ( old stuff here)
Rating : G
Timeframe : Book One
Word Count : ~650
Finally getting back to the plan of starting from the beginning. This follows the first installment. I'm not really happy with it, but I think I've put my finger on why and it's something that I should be able to sort out later and I'd rather move on than spend more time on it now.
Also test driving a name change. Thinking I'll keep it.
“Is something amiss?” Ski slowed her horse to match her companion’s pace at the rear of the group as their exploration of Filborough wound its way towards the market district where their new captain awaited them.
The youngest and smallest member of the party blinked at her, obviously not expecting to have drawn such attention. Perhaps she thought she’d kept her feelings hidden, but the melodramatic sighs that had punctuated the last several blocks of their journey were hard to miss.
“It’s just, well, this is hardly what I had anticipated,” said Illia, meekly. She gave a nod to the rows of buildings that hemmed the street, all crafted of the same dull gray stones and small, drab windows and pressed so close to one another not even sunlight passed between them. Decked in the full formal regalia that marked her as an Air Knight, the stark white of her cloak and armor, all the more striking when paired with her platinum curls and ivory skin, she did, indeed, look out of place on the dusty streets of Filborough. But then Illia never quite looked like she belonged anywhere that didn’t require a ball gown.
It was, unfortunately, precisely what Ski had expected of their first assignment as fully-fledged knights. One of many minor hubs along the eastern trade route to the north. Remote enough to avoid any real action, more than large enough to handle any trouble that did come its way without the interference of king or council. Ski suspected the aim in sending a squadron of unproven initiates to such a city was to convince the local government that their presence would have minimal impact on their affairs. She’d tried to tell her as much before they left the capitol, but the girl’s imagination proved resilient as always.
“Now, Illia,” Ski started, ready to patiently explain their orders again when Farran cut in.
“And what were you expecting?” she called over her green-cloaked shoulder as she slowed her own mount to join them, leaving Tess alone in the lead. “A mountain fort to hold against the onslaught of Imperial hordes?”
“Well nothing quite that romantic!” Illia protested. “Besides, we are on good terms with the Empire. I don’t think there would be hordes to fight even in the mountains. And we should, perhaps be better guests and make an effort to rejoin our hosts,” she added, urging her horse past Farran’s, her head bowed in an effort to conceal the blush that had spread across her cheeks.
“Even if there were,” said Farran, quickly regaining a place at her side. “It’s not as if they’re about to send a pair of princesses off to face them.”
The comment would seem to be meant for Illia, but the look was aimed at Ski, and it said Farran had no more desire than Illia to be attached to purely diplomatic assignment. Ski opened her mouth to try to smooth things over, but Illia spoke first.
“We’re not princesses,” she said, quickly adding a meek “yet” as this earned her disapproving looks from all three of her companions. Her cheeks now scarlet, she floundered on. “Well, what explains the two of you then? Neither of you is so important they can’t give you real work, are you? Not that I’m not happy to have you here, but-”
“We’re here to keep you out of trouble,” said Farran.
“What trouble?”
Of course, such a question begged an answer and it was just that moment that Tess came to a sharp stop, throwing a hand out to catch Illia’s bridle and force her to a halt as well. Ski peered past the two of them at the blur of white and orange fur that tumbled out of the alley into the street in front of them.
“Cats, apparently,” said Tess as the animal righted itself and turned, its long, spotted tail swishing, to stare directly at Ski.