[ first thread - location: sanctuary - holo ]
For a brief moment, home had finally felt like home again. She and Briar had argued, loudly and with the reasoning of children, but in that small instant of irritation Sandry had seen their old sibling bond. She had stormed around Daja’s house, taking measurements and debating the best fabrics and colors for her foster brother and sisters. That afternoon, despite her somewhat childish behavior, Sandry had returned hom with a new spark of hope in her chest. Thy were going to be okay. They had to be okay.
What she hadn’t expected was to wake the next morning--or was it still the same night?--in seamless metal chamber with no sign of an exit. For several moments Sandry took in the room, blinking at the walls around her for any sign of magic. The heaviness at her wrist distracted fairly quickly, and she turned to inspect the bracelet on her wrist. It told her nothing, and without Daja’s knowledge of metal there was no telling how or why it had been placed on her. The obvious answer, at least at first, was that she had been taken for ransom, and that the wrist was some sort of magic inhibitor. But there was no magic within the bracelet, and Sandry could feel her own magic as plain and clean as was normal. “Either they’re very good, or very stupid,” she mused to herself. Of course she couldn’t do anything with metal, but there might be other options...
Brow furrowed, the noble finally rose from the ground and checked for the pouch around her neck. Whoever had taken her hadn’t been very smart at all. The pouch was still there, as were its contents. The room was bright for now, but if whatever source was causing the light went out, at least she still had her crystal. More importantly, she had the thread that represented the bond between her foster siblings and herself. The lumps that lately had been warm with Tris and Daja’s magics were cold, but Briar’s gave a faint pulse. She gave it a slight tug, but the connection was still firmly closed. Unless she absolutely could not find a way out it would stay that way. Briar didn’t want her there, and she wasn’t about to force it after their arguments the day before.
Sandry sighed and placed the pouch back under her nightclothes, then smoothed the material over before firmly setting her jaw and addressing the empty room. “I am Lady Sandrilene fa Toren, Clehame fa Landreg, and I demand an immediate explanation as to why I have been brought here.”
No response.
“I won’t sit quietly and wait, if that’s what you’re thinking, so you may as well just answer me now. The very least you can do is give me your terms. It will be much easier on you if you cooperate now.”
Nothing. Mildly frustrated now, Sandry pushed her magic out, seeking some sort of material she could get a grasp on. There were wires in the walls, but she pulled her magic back quickly with a sharp, “Oh!” when she felt the electricity running through them--she would need Tris’ help to even think about doing anything with those.
“Oh, cat dirt.”
What she hadn’t expected was to wake the next morning--or was it still the same night?--in seamless metal chamber with no sign of an exit. For several moments Sandry took in the room, blinking at the walls around her for any sign of magic. The heaviness at her wrist distracted fairly quickly, and she turned to inspect the bracelet on her wrist. It told her nothing, and without Daja’s knowledge of metal there was no telling how or why it had been placed on her. The obvious answer, at least at first, was that she had been taken for ransom, and that the wrist was some sort of magic inhibitor. But there was no magic within the bracelet, and Sandry could feel her own magic as plain and clean as was normal. “Either they’re very good, or very stupid,” she mused to herself. Of course she couldn’t do anything with metal, but there might be other options...
Brow furrowed, the noble finally rose from the ground and checked for the pouch around her neck. Whoever had taken her hadn’t been very smart at all. The pouch was still there, as were its contents. The room was bright for now, but if whatever source was causing the light went out, at least she still had her crystal. More importantly, she had the thread that represented the bond between her foster siblings and herself. The lumps that lately had been warm with Tris and Daja’s magics were cold, but Briar’s gave a faint pulse. She gave it a slight tug, but the connection was still firmly closed. Unless she absolutely could not find a way out it would stay that way. Briar didn’t want her there, and she wasn’t about to force it after their arguments the day before.
Sandry sighed and placed the pouch back under her nightclothes, then smoothed the material over before firmly setting her jaw and addressing the empty room. “I am Lady Sandrilene fa Toren, Clehame fa Landreg, and I demand an immediate explanation as to why I have been brought here.”
No response.
“I won’t sit quietly and wait, if that’s what you’re thinking, so you may as well just answer me now. The very least you can do is give me your terms. It will be much easier on you if you cooperate now.”
Nothing. Mildly frustrated now, Sandry pushed her magic out, seeking some sort of material she could get a grasp on. There were wires in the walls, but she pulled her magic back quickly with a sharp, “Oh!” when she felt the electricity running through them--she would need Tris’ help to even think about doing anything with those.
“Oh, cat dirt.”